At five p.m. the vidphone rang. Jeff swivelled in his chair and pressed the accept call button with one hand, while the other kept a careful hold of his granddaughter. Lyra was burbling, quite content to be cradled in her grandfather's strong arms.
"Hello?" Jeff asked as the screen sprang to life.
A very tired face appeared.
"Good evening, Mr Tracy. This is April Mackenzie from the Victim Support Unit within Essex police. I hope I haven't called at a bad time."
Jeff shook his head, adjusting the child in his arms.
"Actually, no," he said. "For once, an international call has come in at a decent hour for us."
Mackenzie smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes. Jeff drew his chair a little closer to the screen.
"Is there news?" he asked.
Lyra made a small choking noise and Jeff adjusted her position, grabbing a nearby muslin square as she began to spew.
"Yes, Mr Tracy," Mackenzie said. "I'm making this call so early - for us, at least - because I want John to have the news before it breaks on this morning's news telecast."
As he wiped Lyra's face, Jeff's frown deepened.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's policy to give the information directly to the victim…" she said, though there was reluctance in her tone.
"My son is indisposed at the moment," Jeff said.
That was painfully true. John had been confined to the sick room for several days after the incident on the roof, unwell after the soaking he received in the storm. He was still there, barely speaking to anyone.
"I am authorised to speak on his behalf," Jeff said.
Mackenzie nodded.
"Well, as you know, a forensic search has been carried out at Grace Thomas's property. Two bodies were found under one of the flowerbeds. However." She paused.
Jeff's face turned to stone.
"There are more," he said.
The woman nodded.
"Yes. Our teams carried out a full search of the property and found two more bodies - both male. We're awaiting test results to confirm their identities but we suspect they are Thomas's father and her husband. We couldn't track down either men; now we can see why."
Sitting back, Jeff shook his head.
"Why do you suspect that?" he asked.
"The bodies were found in a totally different part of the farm and were killed in different ways from those under the flowerbed," Mackenzie said. "Both appear to have been killed in a frenzied knife attack, rather than strangulated or suffocated. Their ages also don't fit the pattern of her other victims and their state of decomposition suggests they were killed long before the other victims."
Lyra yawned, her little red gums shining, and snuggled into Jeff's chest. How could someone so beautiful come from something so ugly?
"That's very unfortunate news for Amelia," Jeff said.
"Yes," Mackenzie said, her face marred by the dark smudges under her eyes. "However, for the case, it proves that Thomas had killed previously and with four victims, the case against her will be strengthened. Her defence was likely going to pin the blame on John and suggest that he abused her, but with four bodies in the ground on her property that were dead long before John ever set foot in the house, that defence won't wash. Then there's all the evidence from inside the house - most damning of all, the photographs."
Shuddering, Jeff closed his eyes for a moment. Thomas had kept photographic evidence of the abuse she inflicted on his son. And to think I may have to see those images in court... He shook his head to clear the anguish away.
"It looks as though there will be enough to convict her," Jeff said.
Mackenzie nodded, although there was a reluctance in her movements.
"Yes, there is. However, it's likely that her defence team will move to have her found not guilty through diminished responsibility. The prosecution will need to prove that she knew what she was doing was wrong."
Jeff grunted.
"Hopefully there will be enough evidence to suggest malice aforethought."
"We can being a very strong case against her," Mackenzie said. "The outcome will hinge on the make-up of the jury. The main question they will ask is, why didn't John leave?"
"To save a child's life," Jeff spat.
Mackenzie's face was impassive; Jeff flushed.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"That's understandable," she said. "The evidence that Amelia will give is of paramount importance. Her account will either support her mother's claims or John's."
"Will she need to testify?" Jeff asked. "That's a lot for a teenager to go through."
"It depends on the legal team's decision. A first-hand account given in court could convince the jury, but on the other side of the coin, the defence cross-examination could tear her to pieces. In any case, Mr Tracy, I thought it was best that you knew first, rather than finding out through media speculation."
"Thank you," Jeff said. "I appreciate that it's been an early start for you."
Mackenzie gave him a tired smile.
"We'll keep you updated," she said.
Jeff thanked her again and the line clicked off. He looked down at Lyra, whose eyes were shut, her little eyelashes brushing her chubby cheeks.
"Well, my dear," he said. "I think it's time we visited your daddy."
As he lifted the child up onto one shoulder, Jeff marvelled at how quickly everything had come back to him. He could remember exactly how to make formula, change diapers, how to hold the delicate little pink bundle. He could even still decipher the differences in cries. And it's been nearly a quarter of a century since I was father to a new-born! he thought. Of course, he'd had some practice with Adam. However, since it had become clear that John was in no condition to care for his daughter, Jeff had taken on the fatherhood mantle again - and, in truth and in spite of the difficult circumstances, he was loving it. It brings back good memories, he thought. Sometimes it feels like Lucy is standing over my shoulder. She would love this little one. A girl, at long last!
His mirth subsided, however, as he made his way past the kitchen and towards the sick room. The smell of dinner would soon draw his sons to the dining room - all bar one.
When he pushed the door of the sick room open, he could see that John was still facing the wall. I need to get a therapist out here, and fast, Jeff thought.
Elijah stood up from his nurse's station and gave Jeff a small nod.
"Sir," he said.
Jeff smiled. He had told the man not to call him that but it seemed that Elijah preferred to.
"Is he awake?" Jeff asked.
"Yes," Elijah said, "although he still isn't very talkative."
He motioned for Jeff to take a seat at the side of John's bed and reached out for the baby. Jeff passed her over and sat beside his son. John didn't move.
"Son," he said.
No response.
"John, turn around."
The words came out harsher than Jeff had intended but they had the desired effect. John turned to face him. Jeff kept his expression neutral as his chest tightened. His son looked destitute, his pallor pale, his hair stiff and straw-like.
"I just had a call from the Victim Support Unit," he said. "Son, they've found two more bodies."
No response.
"Although it's unconfirmed as yet, the police believe that one of those bodies might be Amelia's father."
Something glimmered in John's eyes. He blinked and sat up, his movements laboured. His arms were stick-thin underneath his baggy t-shirt. Good, Jeff thought. At least he's moving.
"Grace told me that Amelia's father left her," John said. His voice was hoarse. "She said his leaving was part of the reason she started kidnapping and killing men."
"If the police's suspicions are proved to be correct, it would seem that was not the entire truth," Jeff said. "Perhaps he threatened to leave and she killed him."
John drew his knees up to his chin.
"I wouldn't surprise me," he said. "Poor Amelia. To find out that your mother killed your father. She thought all these years that he abandoned her. I always wondered about that. It sounded callous for a father to leave his daughter behind in an unbearable situation."
As if on cue, Elijah coughed. John's attention was drawn to him - and the child in his arms. John's face creased with something that looked like guilt, then softened again.
"How is Lyra?" he asked.
Elijah brought the child to him and held her out.
"Ask her yourself," he said.
There was a moment of hesitation. But, and Jeff didn't see what happened exactly, something happened between the two men. There was a look of some sort. Then John reached out for his daughter.
"Hey, my little star," he said, his voice wavering. "How are you?"
Slowly turning his head, Jeff looked at Elijah - who, in a rare moment, was smiling. He threw him a questioning look. What was that? Elijah gave a little shrug of his shoulders. Jeff looked back at his son and granddaughter. This is good, he said.
"Who's been looking after her?" John asked, tracing a finger along one of her red cheeks.
Jeff could not stop himself from puffing a little with pride.
"Me," he said.
"You, Dad?" John asked.
One side of his mouth lifted in a disbelieving smile. Jeff crossed his arms.
"I'm no rookie," he said. "I've changed more dirty diapers than you've had hot meals."
John laughed - it was hoarse, but at least it was there.
"I guess so," John said. Then he looked down at his daughter, whose eyes were open and bright. "I'm sorry I'm not..."
His voice caught. Jeff shook his head.
"Enough," he said. "No apologies." John gave him a wobbly smile. "You're not yourself, son, and we all understand that. But I think it's time that we called in some help."
Watching the play of emotions on John's face was like watching a flip book animation. Despair was quickly followed by anger, then supplemented by disgust, then reluctance. Finally, he settled on defeat.
"I guess you're right," he said.
"Good," Jeff said. "I'll make some calls."
"Dad -" John's voice caught again, but he swallowed against it and continued. "I don't want to be admitted to a psych ward. I just... I don't want to leave the island. Not yet, anyway."
"I understand," Jeff said. "I'm sure one of our agents can source someone reliable who can come to you and who won't divulge the nature of our organisation."
Relief flooded across John's face. Jeff watched as his son cradled little Lyra, simply watching her.
"Perhaps," Elijah said, tapping his chin, "you'd like to go out for an evening stroll with her. You could use the fresh air - and so could I, for that matter."
Jeff gave the nurse a grateful look.
"And, maybe," Elijah continued, "after that you could give Amelia a call - assuming she knows about the bodies and the fact that one of her might be her father, she might need a virtual shoulder to cry on."
Clever, Jeff thought. Very clever.
John allowed the thoughts to swirl in his head for a moment before he eventually nodded.
"Okay," he said. "I could go for a walk. And I would like to talk to Amelia."
"Good," Elijah said. "I'll get you some clean clothes."
The nurse disappeared. Jeff stood and planted his hands on his hips.
"Mind if I join you, son?" he asked.
John's face crinkled into a smile - the most genuine smile that had graced his face in weeks.
"Not at all, Dad," he said. "That sounds good."