‘Have you been to visit Bronte? That might help. I’m sure she’d love a cuddle from her…’ she paused, not sure whether the well-spoken woman would be a grandma or nanna.
‘Nannie, that’s what the girls call me. I’m not old enough to be a grandma, horrible thought.’
Morgan smiled. She had no idea how old Helen Taylor was, but she imagined the day before she found out her family had been brutally murdered she’d looked a lot younger and less haggard than she did now.
Helen stared at Morgan, making her feel like squirming.
‘You found them? You’re so young, that must have been a terrible shock for you too.’
She nodded. ‘It was my first day on independent patrol.’
‘You poor girl, thank you. I’m glad it was you, you seem like a nice person.’
Morgan squeezed Helen’s hand. ‘Did you want to tell me something? We desperately want to find out who did this and if you know something that might help the investigation…’
‘I loved her very much despite our differences. Do you get on with your mum?’
She decided that honesty was the best policy. ‘Yes, I did, I loved her very much. She died when I was eighteen.’
‘Oh my dear, then I’m sorry too.’
‘Thank you, I still miss her. It’s hard not being able to ring her when everything is going wrong or right. Did you and Olivia have a rocky relationship then?’
Helen let out a small laugh. ‘Something like that. I’m afraid I used to stick my nose in a little too much. Not to be awful, I thought I was helping. Olivia hated being told what to do, a bit like her father. I should have kept quiet, but I couldn’t. It was too much this time, too blatant.’
‘What was?’ Morgan was sitting straight, wondering what she was going to be told.
‘Her lack of morals, her disregard for other people’s feelings. The fact that she cared about herself a lot more than those beautiful girls or Saul.’
Every image Morgan had of Olivia Potter had just been blown into pieces. In her mind she had pictured her as a wholesome family woman who doted on her children and husband, and now she had just been told the woman could possibly have been a narcissist.
‘My daughter was having an affair. It wasn’t the first by any means; I have no idea how Saul put up with her wretched behaviour. He was a far better man than she deserved.’
‘You mean she was involved with another man until a few days ago? Did Saul know about it?’
Helen nodded. ‘Poor man, he did. He came to me a few days before, asking what he should do. He said he couldn’t take any more.’
A shiver ran down Morgan’s spine. ‘What advice did you give to him?’
‘To sort it out for good, to stop letting her walk all over him. To tell her to leave, get out of his house. I mean she’s my flesh and blood, but I didn’t condone her carrying on like that. I’m terrified he took my words to heart and killed them all. How would I ever live with myself?’ Her voice broke; it was barely a whisper.
Fresh tears began to trickle from her eyes.
‘Helen, we don’t believe that Saul killed his family. His injuries were as severe as everyone else’s, and there was no evidence at the scene to suggest that was a possibility. We believe he was killed.’
‘Then what about my daughter? Did she kill them in a fit of rage and kill herself because she couldn’t live with what she’d done?’
Morgan didn’t know; it was a possibility. Where was Ben or Amy? She stared towards the door, realising that no one was coming to help her out. She was going to have to sort this out herself.
‘Do you know who she was seeing, Helen? We’ll need to speak to them urgently.’
‘I’m sorry, she never told me names. I heard a rumour he was a councillor, but you know what this place is like. For all I know it could have been the postman or the gardener.’
Morgan’s heart almost jumped from her chest at the mention of the gardener.
‘Did they have a regular gardener, do you know?’ Her fingers were crossed under the table. She was hoping they employed another gardener.
‘Yes, they did. I’m not accusing him though, he’s a bit too old and I shouldn’t imagine he had anything about him that Olivia would find attractive. She liked wealthy, powerful men and I think he’s a bit of a