by Carla Kovach
‘Did Pete, the reporter, leave before you?’
‘Yeah, maybe ten, twenty minutes before.’ Gina scrunched her brow. Her story was now matching with the reporter’s.
‘Where was your car parked?’
‘Just opposite where the Meegans live. I got into my car, waited for the mist to clear from the windscreen and met my husband with his lunch. That’s it, I would have been with him at one thirty because that’s when he has his break.’
‘Where does your husband work?’
‘Cleevesford Plastics, he’s the logistics manager. You’re going to check with him, aren’t you?’
‘We wouldn’t be doing our job if we didn’t. A woman was nearly killed so we have to be thorough. Do you remember seeing anything or anyone at that point?’
‘Oh my… yes. I saw a flash of green plastic through the rain. A person was carrying it and heading around the back. It could have been a petrol can.’
‘Can you tell me how tall this person was, build and features?’
‘Only that they were wearing a dark jacket, navy blue, I think. The rest was a very fast blur. I just remember the colour green as it stood out. I drove off then.’
Gina watched as Jacob caught up with the notes. She wondered if Pete, the reporter, had hung around and not noticed Lara in her car.
‘Where is Sandy going to end up?’
‘I really don’t know, Mrs Blakely.’
After the interview, Gina headed out into the corridor, leaving Jacob to finish up.
‘Guv?’ Wyre’s plait swished from side to side as she jogged towards Gina. ‘We have a fingerprint match on the petrol can. You need to come, quick.’
Fifty
‘Pick up, pick up, pick up,’ Caro said as she gripped her phone.
‘What is it? I’m helping my dad at work. If he sees I’m slacking, he’ll have a frenzy.’ Anthony sniffed.
‘I needed to speak to someone. My mum has been called into the police station for another interview or something and I don’t know why. I don’t know what to do.’ She peered around the door to see Jake sitting in front of the oven staring at the cakes rising behind the glass.
‘Why would they want to speak to her again? It’s not like she’s the killer. Idiots. It’s probably nothing.’
‘Easy for you to say. Have you heard any more from the police?’
‘Nah.’
‘Have you spoken to any of the others? Oscar, Elsa or Naomi?’
‘I’ve called them all. Oscar said to just shut up and say nothing. He literally threatened to pound my head if I spoke about the party we were at and, after last time, I know he would. I had a go back about him drugging you but he kept saying that he hardly gave you any and I needed to chill.’
‘What if he drugged the others though? What if he drugged Leah? He’s so good at putting on a butter-wouldn’t-melt act. When the police interviewed him and his dad in their big house, they’d have looked perfect, not like the rest of us.’
‘It was weird. Both Elsa and Naomi have had a cop each spending most of their time at their houses, saying that they could be in danger. Naomi is losing her shit but she’s sitting tight. I don’t know what to do for the best. Shit’s gettin’ serious. Maybe we should say something.’
Caro leaned against the wall and Jake shuffled past and went into the downstairs toilet where he sang as he peed. ‘We can’t say anything. We all agreed. We did things we could be charged with. There’s the damage to cars, the graffiti. Why did we let Oscar talk us into doing such stupid things?’
‘Whatever. We did stupid things but Leah was killed. D’ya really think they’ll care about some graffiti?’
‘And the weed? The roofies they spiked me with. There was more, I saw something on the night of the last party and I need to have it out with the person before anything is said.’ Caro tapped her fingernails on the worktop, her mind turning everything over.
‘First, cops have got bigger things to deal with than a bit of stupid weed, second, what the hell ’aven’t you told me?’
The fire alarm began to sound. ‘Got to go.’
Jake finished washing his hands and ran out of the toilet.
‘I told you to watch the cakes, now look at them.’ The edges were blackened.
‘But I was going to pee myself.’
She pushed him out of the way and pulled the cakes from the oven, placing the tin on a trivet. ‘Mum’s going to go ape.’
As Lara ran through the door, she began wafting at the fire alarm with her handbag. ‘What the hell? I leave you for an hour or so and this happens. Caro? You should have been supervising. You could have burnt the house down.’
‘Sorry, Mum.’
Lara looked at each of them in turn and grabbed them both, hugging them closely.
‘Sorry about the cakes, Mummy. We can make them again,’ Jake said.
She bent down and kissed his forehead. ‘We’ll do them together.’ She glanced back at Caro. ‘Sorry for shouting like that.’
‘What did the police want?’ Caro noticed that her mum didn’t seem angry. In fact, she looked worried when she smelled the smoke in the kitchen.
‘A fire occurred close to where I was yesterday and they wanted to ask if I saw anyone around. When I came home and heard the alarm going off, I panicked. I’m just so glad both of my babies are safe.’
Caro indulged her mother in her over the top hugging, relieved that was all her mother had been asked. Her phone beeped again. She gently let go of her mother’s hand, leaving her fussing over Jake and she gulped.
One, two; coming for you.
Fifty-One
‘Right, what have we got?’ Gina followed Wyre into the incident room.
‘We have fresh prints all over the can that match up to someone already on our database.’
‘That is brilliant.’
O’Connor turned away from his computer screen and grabbed a Chelsea bun.
‘Who is our arsonist?’
‘It’s Frank Meegan.’
Gina burst into laughter and stepped further into the room. ‘I guess our slimy reporter is in the clear. I knew Frank Meegan was holding back. Just before coming to the station as I was leaving here, he must have started that fire. The evidence that Mrs Meegan gave us. He wanted to burn it all away.’ Gina’s laugh turned into a frown. ‘He knew that his wife was virtually stuck in that house. We’re looking at arson with intent to endanger life and that carries a hefty sentence. He was prepared to kill her to bury every last bit of evidence against him. I’ll get onto the CPS in a minute to discuss charges further. We need more. He’ll probably say that it’s his petrol can, which is why his prints were on it. Have the team searched the rest of the grounds yet?’
Wyre opened an email on one of the computers. ‘They’ve sent these photos so far.’
Gina flicked through each one in turn. They ranged from cigarette ends to discarded rubbish. Then came the shed. ‘That’s a navy-blue jacket hanging up on the shed wall.’
Wyre nodded. ‘It was still damp in the creases too.’
Gina quickly scanned through the notes. ‘I’ve just spoken to Lara Blakely, one of the protesters and mother to one of the kids that didn’t go to this particular party, but went to the last one. She said she saw someone in a navy jacket holding what looked like a green petrol can scooting around the back of the house. He must have parked in another street after leaving just in case anyone saw him, then hurried back in the rain feeling safe that no one would be around, then whoosh. He set fire to the house. He has opportunity, he matches our witness description, the timings fit and he has a strong motive. We just need to know if he’s lying about staying at the Splendid Hotel in Worcester. After all, he’s proven that he’s capable of killing if he tried to burn his wife to death.’
Jacob hurried in. ‘The hotel are about to send the footage but it’s bad news. They say that his car never left the hotel all night. And another thing. There is footage of him in the hotel bar until one in the mo
rning. He never left. It shows him falling all over the place after drinking too much whisky. The staff said they almost had to carry him to his room where he vomited on their carpet and fell asleep face down before they’d even left him. This made him totally unforgettable to everyone on shift that night. He wasn’t in any fit state to kill Jordan Rolfe.’
Gina threw her pen to the table and grabbed her hair. ‘Damn! What are we missing? First things first. We discuss with the CPS charging Meegan with the following; arson with intent to endanger the life of Mrs Meegan and for voyeurism by installing equipment with the purpose of obtaining sexual gratification and the possession of indecent images of children for the filming and photographing of the teens. He’s not going anywhere but that still leaves us with a double murderer on the loose. Go back to the teens with everything we have, especially Oscar. His father is going way over the top to keep us away. Look everyone over again and get back to me. I want to look further at John Tallis, the Waterside Café owner. I don’t have a motive in mind as yet for him but we have to start with the leads that have been left dangling. Jacob, can you handle the call to the CPS? I’m going to speak to DCI Briggs, then I best be the one to break the news to Mrs Meegan before she hears it through the media.’
‘Of course, guv. It will be my pleasure.’ He smiled and left the room. O’Connor and Wyre turned back to their computers as Gina headed out to Briggs’s office, knocking then pushing the door open.
‘He’s not our murderer, sir. I was so sure.’
‘I think we all were. Now you have to find out who is.’
‘Two out of five kids murdered. We have to stop this before we have a number three.’
Gina’s phone beeped and Briggs peered up. Gina swallowed. ‘It’s three broken heart emojis from the same anonymous number, just like on the tweets.’ She exhaled slowly with her eyes shut. ‘I can’t deal with all this.’ Her phone beeped again. ‘It’s Hannah double confirming that she’ll see me Sunday and not to keep calling.’
Briggs stood and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, making eye contact. ‘You can and you will. We’ll get through this.’
His phone beeped. He let go of her shoulder and picked it up.
The truth is coming out and you are both going down.
‘Is your daughter doing all her messaging at once? The timing is a bit coincidental.’
He thrust the phone in her hand and she held back the urge to throw a chair at the window and scream.
‘It has to be her.’
Why, Hannah? Why?
Fifty-Two
They’ve given me something to help me relax, at my request of course. I just want to forget Frank and forget everything that has happened. I hope the council find me somewhere to be discharged to soon. I hardly have any money in my account and I don’t know what will happen with the cottage. Maybe the insurance will come through soon and I can be checked into a hotel or get a suitable rental until it is fixed up and sold or… I feel my throat choke up, the cottage might be a complete write off. Still, I’m not going back there, ever. The time has come for me to start living and Frank is only bringing me down. I need to leave here and get out of Cleevesford once and for all.
Was that a knock or did I imagine it? I really don’t care. Heaving myself up a little I squint and look down, light-headedness keeping me still for a moment. I close my eyes and it’s like I’m moving on an escalator that never reaches its destination. As I open my eyes, I’m staring at the woman. Who is it? Detective something. I see a red beating heart at the forefront of my mind’s eye. Boom, boom, boom, just like the blood that is coursing through my body as I freak out. Harte. That’s it. DI Harte. I have her card in my pocket. I feel for it but I’m not wearing my cardigan.
‘Mrs Meegan? Sandra. Sorry to disturb you.’
You’re not disturbing me. I want someone to talk to. Maybe we can make tea and sit in the garden. ‘Hello.’ That’s all I can manage. I want to say so much more. The cloud is lifting a little. I’m speaking nonsense. Get a grip. I have to buck up before they deem me not fit to leave this place and I want to get out.
I’m in hospital. My house was set on fire and Frank is at the police station. Get a grip, Sandy.
‘Are you okay to talk, only I have something to tell you?’
That doesn’t sound good. It’s the way she said it, the inflections in her voice and her downturned lips. That look of sympathy that I’m so used to seeing off everyone. Pity for the woman who’s paralysed. I’m sick of pity. I’m going to show everyone that I’m a strong and capable human being. ‘Just get on with it.’
‘Can I get you anything?’
I need a drink but my arms are too weak to reach the water and the drifting in and out of weird dreams has distracted me. ‘Water.’
The detective woman pours a glass from the water jug and passes it to me but I’m lying awkwardly on one arm. Pushing and twisting my torso, I’m back onto my bottom, grimacing as I pull myself into an upright position. I take the plastic cup but my grip says no and it almost spills. It’s okay though, DI Harte still has the other side so she pours a bit through my lips.
The water is refreshing and the clouds are lifting a little more. I squeeze my eyes closed a few times hoping that the fuzzy filter will go away and it does a little. I see the detective’s slight lines around her eyes and now she is smiling, I can see that it’s a kind smile. Her brown hair has fallen from her bobble, framing the edge of her heart-shaped face.
‘Are you okay to talk? I can come back if you’re not feeling up to it.’
I reach out with my shaky fingers and place them on her clammy arm. ‘Please stay.’ I don’t want to be alone all day and no one will come to visit me. She’s all I have at this moment. The nurses have no time to talk and neither do the cleaners. I wonder if they all hate me because they know who Frank is and what he’s done. It’s the wife of the child killer. I can hear their whispers in my head. I’m scared they’ll poison me or suffocate me when I sleep, after all, the angry mob tried to cook me alive. I just want to tell them all that I didn’t know and I certainly didn’t help him do all those wicked things.
‘Sandra?’
‘Sorry, I was just thinking. My mind is all over the place. It keeps racing and I…’ I maybe slurring a little or stretching my words but I’m okay. I know my mind is back in the room. ‘I asked them for something strong and that’s what I got.’ I wipe a string of dribble from the corner of my mouth.
‘I’ll try to make this as simple as I can.’
‘Have you come to tell me you’ve arrested Frank for murdering those kids?’
‘No, quite the opposite. Frank has an alibi for the second murder and, at present, we’re linking the two, but there is something I have to tell you and it is that he’s been arrested.’
‘For the videos and the photos. I really thought he’d changed.’
‘It’s more than that.’
Now I’m alert. It’s as if the drugs are wearing off fast. ‘What? I have to know?’
‘We have arrested him for attempted murder. I’m so sorry to tell you that it looks like your husband set fire to your house. We have a witness and forensic evidence to place him there at the time.’
I shake my head a little too fast and the room spins a little, sending me into a flurry of panic. ‘That can’t be right. You’re saying that Frank tried to kill me?’ I grip the bed rail to ground myself. I know I’m not really spinning but it’s reassuring to know I’m still, even though my head is trying to deceive me.
‘I’m afraid so.’
I can’t help the flood of tears that begin to fall. Fat plopping tears that slither down my face, gathering in the crease of my sticky chin. He’s not a child killer. Maybe, just maybe people will give me a break now. But wait, he tried to kill me. ‘He wanted me dead.’ My sobs fill the room. It’s been a long time since I had any love for Frank but to know he tried to murder me is something else. I don’t have words for this feeling. I grip the DI’s arm, my nai
ls digging in as I tense uncontrollably.
‘I thought I should be the first to tell you before the media get wind of it. His arrest will be announced later today.’
‘Thank you for being here.’
‘I’m just so sorry I came with such bad news. Is there anyone you want me to call? You shouldn’t be alone.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t have anyone. Frank made sure my family would never be a part of my life. I see it now, I see it all.’ I can’t stop now I’ve started. The words flow out of me with ease. All that pent-up hurt needs to escape. ‘In the early days before my accident, he wanted me all to himself… When he started doing…’ I turn slightly in shame, ‘… bad things, I was nothing more than a front, an alibi. Why didn’t I see it? I stayed with him. He convinced me he was ill and needed me to stick by him; that he’d change.’ I pause, trying to find the next few words. ‘He’d buy me flowers and tell me how much he loved me for sticking by him but he soon turned weird again. Then that holiday came and I was so angry with him and his mood swings, I jumped in the sea on a whim and ruined my life. Then he had me right where he wanted – trapped.’ Another flood of tears come and she passes me a tissue.
‘Men like Frank are cruel. I can help you access the right help when you’re ready. You can manage on your own in the right property. There is support out there. You can look for work, start a course or join some community groups. What do you like doing?’
I smile. I used to like making clothes. ‘Dressmaking.’
‘I’m sure there is a whole load of courses or groups that meet up. You deserve better but you need to give yourself permission to take it.’
I still have my hand on her arm. ‘Thank you.’ I know the solution to everything sounds easy in her mind but what she’s saying isn’t impossible. I’ve dreamed about going back to work. I can get an adapted car giving me my freedom back. I have so much to offer and I want to be around people again. I was really good in the world of finance.
