68
TULLOCH STOOD, STRODE ACROSS TO THE WINDOW, PUT her hands on the ledge and took a deep breath.
‘Go on,’ she said.
‘I got suspicious when I heard Neil say that Victoria had claimed her grandfather’s inheritance,’ said Joesbury. ‘If he died intestate then his money would be divided equally between his nearest surviving relatives. Victoria would have been given half of it, the rest saved for Cathy when she eventually showed up.’
‘For Victoria to be given it all meant she was the only one left alive,’ said Tulloch. ‘Shit, I should have thought of that.’
‘Cathy Llewellyn died in an accident ten years ago,’ said Joesbury. ‘She left home about six months after the alleged rape. I assume she made her way to London, because the following summer she was living in a semi-derelict houseboat near Deptford Creek. Squatting along with a group of other kids.’
‘Go on,’ said Tulloch.
‘It broke away from its moorings one night and caught fire at the same time. Nobody is entirely sure how many kids were on board, but five bodies were found in the river. One boy survived, a lad called Tye Hammond, and he could only remember another five people.’
‘How do you know all this?’ asked Tulloch.
‘I checked the death register,’ said Joesbury. ‘I found the date of Cathy’s death and checked the coroner’s report and then press archives.’
‘There’s no doubt it was Cathy?’ asked Tulloch. ‘Did they check dental records?’
‘Not that was recorded,’ said Joesbury. ‘But they didn’t need to. The body was identified. It wasn’t badly burned, apparently. She drowned.’
‘Who identified her?’
‘Big sister Victoria. Once the coroner’s inquest was over, she claimed the body and arranged cremation.’
Tulloch closed her eyes. For a few moments we watched her breathing. Then she opened them again.
‘What about Victoria?’ she said.
‘Still nothing,’ said Joesbury. ‘Nothing’s been heard of her since she claimed her grandfather’s money.’
Tulloch raised her head. Her face was drawn and pinched. ‘Well, it makes things simpler,’ she said. ‘Victoria’s the one we want.’