Edwards would neither confirm nor deny that Lloyd’s arrest is linked to the discovery, yesterday, of the remains of three men in a house in the Shepherd’s Hill district of the town.
* * *
Once again, the story went quiet. The paper carried picture-stories of friends and neighbours leaving flowers and gifts for the dead woman and her daughter, and there was a small piece that was mainly speculation on the part of neighbours and friends, most of whom believed the young couple to be very happy and devoted to their daughter. Finally, on 29 May, an update.
* * *
In a statement given today at 2 p.m. this afternoon, Detective Chief Superintendent Edwards told waiting reporters that Wilfred Lloyd has been charged with three counts of murder, of Thomas Lee, 35, Ron Lovell, 29 and Jake Ellery, 34. All three men were known to have carried out work on the Lloyds’ property in recent months. Edwards went on to confirm that Lloyd would not now be facing charges for the murder of his wife, or for the abuse of his daughter. The police are not seeking anyone else in connection with those crimes.
* * *
The next day, a very brief piece.
* * *
Wilfred Lloyd pleaded guilty yesterday at Salisbury Magistrates Court to three charges of murder. The magistrate referred the case to the Crown Court and remanded Lloyd in custody. The trial is expected in the summer.
* * *
The door opens again and Jack appears. Without speaking, Joe hands over the articles before turning back to the email from Delilah’s detective sergeant. The detective wrote:
Faye Lloyd hired three men to help her clear the garden before the summer. If she’d known that two of them had convictions for sex offences and the third for GBH she probably wouldn’t have. They realised she and the little girl were alone in the house and decided to move in.
They kept her as a sex slave, subjecting her to abuse and torture, for three days before her husband arrived back on extended leave. He got in, arms full of souvenirs, looking forward to a marital reunion, to find his wife dead in the bedroom. Felicity had been locked in the under-stairs cupboard for God knows how long.
* * *
‘Did these blokes hurt Felicity too?’ Jack asks, when he’s caught up.
Joe nods. ‘Medical evidence suggested she’d been raped and beaten too. The public were hugely sympathetic to Lloyd, but he’d deliberately hunted down his wife’s killers and murdered them in cold blood. And showed no remorse. The judge had no choice but to send him down. He got a whole life tariff.’
All colour seems to have drained from Jack’s face. ‘Does Felicity know any of this?’
‘She was three years old. People retain very few memories from being so young. She did recall some of it under hypnosis one time but it was very confused.’
‘How so?’
‘She remembered her mother screaming and being locked in the cupboard. And she talked about the bad men coming to get her out of the cupboard and hurting her.’
Jack is looking through the newspaper reports again. ‘According to this, her father found her.’
‘Found her and then fled, never to reappear in her life. So, her terrified, toddler brain confused him with the bad men. All Felicity’s fears of a man she knew as Freddie stem from inaccurate recollections of when she was three years old.’
‘So, she has no reason to be afraid of Freddie?’
Joe drops his head into his hands. ‘No. He’s the one in danger.’
76
Freddie
‘Felicity? Felicity? Are you still there?’
She has backed away from the fissure edge. For several seconds there is no response, and then Freddie hears her voice, low and unhappy.
‘Bamber?’ she says. ‘What’s he talking about?’
‘Felicity,’ he shouts up. ‘Lissy, why on Earth do you think I’m your husband? Are you married? I suppose you could be, and you might have married someone who reminds you of me, people do that, but how could you even remember me after so much time? Felicity, please come back. Please talk to me.’
There is movement above, loose snow falls, then she reappears. Thank God, she’s put the lump of ice down. Instead she holds her flashlight and shines it directly onto his face.
‘Stop trying to trick me,’ she says. ‘You’re Freddie.’
The light half blinds him. ‘Yes, Freddie is my name. Wilfred, actually, but your mother always called me Freddie and you did too when you were tiny. You said Freddie, not Daddy. Do you remember anything about back then?’
She mutters something.
‘What?