by Adam Croft
He could tell she was upset about something. It was clearly something he’d done, too. Surely she hadn’t found out about… No, there was no way. He’d been careful. In any case, what worried him most was the silence. There was never silence when she was around. There were giggles and infectious laughter. That, amongst other things, was what appealed most about her. But today she just sat there, staring at the television, in a world of her own. It wasn’t like her. In a way, it would’ve scared him less if she’d gone off on a rant or at least vented what was on her mind. But she was silent. And he didn’t like it.
He asks her if something’s wrong.
She tells him she’s fine.
He says she doesn’t look fine.
She asks him what that’s meant to mean.
He says it wasn’t meant to mean anything. He’s just worried about her. She doesn’t seem herself.
She makes a comment. He doesn’t hear it properly, but he doesn’t ask her to repeat it. He’s pretty sure it wasn’t something he wanted to hear anyway.
He tells her he’s had enough of this. He’s off for a piss. He stands and walks towards the stairs.
She doesn’t like this.
He hears her pacing across the wooden floor towards him.
She explodes. She tells him she knows what he’s been up to. She knows he’s been shagging someone else.
He tells her that’s ridiculous. Of course he hasn’t. He’s halfway up the stairs.
She’s at the bottom. She says she’s got proof. Her friend saw him kissing someone outside Ford’s.
He tells her he’s never heard anything so stupid in all his life. If he was going to play around, he wouldn’t do it in the middle of Oakham town centre, would he? He tells her she needs to listen to herself.
She starts to head up the stairs, tells him to man up and admit it. Layla doesn’t lie. She wouldn’t do that. She’s her best friend. She knows what she saw.
He points out that Layla never liked him anyway. Of course she’s making things up to try and cause problems. She knows what Layla’s like.
She says yes, she does. And she knows she can trust her. Just like she knows he’s lying through his arse and he’s a cheating scumbag.
He tells her to piss off out of his house if she doesn’t like it.
She’s at the top of the stairs. She tells him to look her in the eyes and tell her he hasn’t been cheating.
He looks at her and scoffs. He tells her she’s mental and he wants her to leave.
She says she’s not going anywhere until she hears the truth.
He steps into the bathroom and tries to close the door.
She stands in the doorway, pushing against it.
There’s a scuffle. He pushes her arm. She pushes back.
She kicks the door.
He yanks it fully open and tells her to piss off home.
She says she’s not going anywhere. He’s lying and she’s going to prove it. She heads for his bedroom.
As she crosses the top of the stairs, he marches towards her, trying to stop her. He puts his hand on her arm.
She spins round, her fist connecting with the side of his head.
For a brief moment, their eyes meet. Before he realises what’s happening, there’s the briefest taste of blood — an irony tang — before he feels himself falling.
25
Caroline took a few minutes to collect her thoughts by the coffee machine before heading back to the incident room and convening a team briefing. She could tell from the way Aidan and Sara looked at her that Dexter had already told them the interview had been a disaster. One of the downsides to a small team was that bad news travelled quickly.
‘Okay,’ she said, raising her voice to make it clear the briefing had begun. ‘Dexter and I have just conducted another interview with Amie Tanner following the discovery that a previous boyfriend of hers, Russell Speakman, died under suspicious circumstances just over fifteen years ago. It would be fair to say it didn’t go brilliantly. I think for now we need to take a step back, keep our powder dry and await more concrete evidence. It’ll be there, one way or the other. We’re still waiting for forensics, are we, Aidan?’
‘Yep. Due to hear back shortly, but nothing of note yet.’
Caroline looked at him as he spoke. She could tell something wasn’t quite right. He seemed vacant somehow. ‘Okay, let me know the second we hear anything back. In the meantime, I want to make it clear that Amie and Gavin Tanner are still of great interest to us. He’s been her alibi twice when people close to her have died under suspicious circumstances. And yes, that’s all it is for now. Circumstantial. And that’s exactly why we keep digging. Sara, you’ve done brilliantly uncovering what you have so far, so keep on that. We need to look especially at what happened to her dad. We know he died quite young. Is there anyone else? Any other ex-boyfriends, friends, colleagues, contacts? Let’s trace as much of her life as we can and speak to as many people as we can. Circumstantial evidence won’t help us in court, but it could lead us towards some hard, solid evidence which will.’
‘On that,’ Sara said, flicking to the right page in her notebook, ‘I don’t think we’re going to find anything suspicious when it comes to her dad’s death. He’d been ill for some time and died in a hospice. And by all accounts her dad doted on her and he was the most important thing in her life, so my instinct is we’re on dodgy ground with that one.’
‘Alright. As I say, we’ll keep digging anyway. Carefully and respectfully. Dex, can you chip in and see what else we can uncover about the death of Russell Speakman? I want to review the full coroner’s report. Transcripts from the hearing, if we can. Find out who the coroner was, who did the post-mortem, who investigated the incident. I want to speak to them all. It’s entirely possible there are methods available now which weren’t fifteen years ago, and that we might be able to get some answers. If it was accidental, fine. If more than a few people had suspicions otherwise, that’s going to need investigating.’
‘Cool,’ Dexter said, nodding. ‘I’ll get onto that. Should all be fairly simple to find out.’
‘Great. Now listen, everyone. You’re doing brilliantly. I know we’re understaffed and under-resourced, but you’re pulling out all the stops and going well beyond what’s expected, and I can’t ask much more than that. We’ve not had EMSOU on the phone trying to take over the case and even the Chief Super’s been quiet, so let’s crack on and make sure things stay that way, alright? The last thing we need now is for bureaucracy to get in the way.’
26
At the close of the team briefing, Caroline noticed Aidan heading towards the kitchenette and followed him.
‘Aidan, can I have a quick word?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’
‘I just wanted to check everything’s okay. You seem a bit down today and I’m worried about you.’
Aidan seemed to consider this for a moment before answering. ‘It’s fine, honestly. It’s nothing.’
‘Well it’s clearly something. Look, we’re a small team. I care about you all. If something’s on your mind, I want to help.’
‘I know. I appreciate that. But you don’t need to worry. It’s not work related.’
‘It doesn’t need to be. I’m talking as your friend, not your boss. I’m concerned, that’s all.’
Aidan looked at her and let out a sigh. ‘I just had some bad news, that’s all. A bit of a shock.’
‘Nothing serious, I hope?’
‘No-one’s died, if that’s what you mean. It’s just… I’ve been seeing this guy for a while, and I thought things were looking really promising but he decided to let me know last night he’s going to Australia for work. An offer he can’t refuse, apparently. Which made me feel brilliant.’
‘Ah,’ Caroline said, not quite sure of the right words. She knew it was terrible to be so pre-occupied with it, but the biggest surprise for her had been the boyfriend bit.
‘Sorry, you probably didn’t need to know that,’ h
e said.
‘No, it’s fine. I mean, of course it is. I just didn’t realise… You know.’
‘I don’t tend to talk about my private life at work, so if you could keep all that to yourself…’
‘Of course. No, of course. I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. So what are you going to do?’
Aidan shrugged. ‘What can I do? I’m not moving to bloody Melbourne. Not after the way he acted. I mean, you’d think he might at least tell me he’d been offered a job and was thinking about it, wouldn’t you? Or given it some thought, perhaps? But no, the first thing he tells me is he’s flying out next Wednesday. Doesn’t even seem to have been a hard decision for him. So if that’s the way he feels, sod him. Plenty more fish in the sea and all that.’
‘Well, that’s a very refreshing outlook.’
Aidan shrugged again. ‘Not much choice, really. I’m crap at being single. Nothing else to do but get back on the horse and find someone else.’ He stopped talking as they heard footsteps approaching.
Caroline tried not to look awkward and guilty as Sara said hello and flashed an extra smile at Aidan. The poor girl. She’d been down enough, thinking that Aidan wasn’t attracted to her. It’d break her heart to find out he never would be. Caroline felt awful at how quickly her worries shifted to more practical ones. They were only a small team. To have two of them living with their heads in the clouds and their hearts in the gutter would be less than ideal. But how could she possibly tell Sara there was no chance of Aidan ever being interested in her?
She forced a smile, realising and accepting — however harsh it sounded — that it simply wasn’t her problem. She was more than happy to be a friend and confidante, but they were at work and she wasn’t employed as an agony aunt. In any case, she had problems of her own to attend to.
27
Amie let out a deep sigh and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t the first time. She felt sure it wasn’t even the hundredth time. There was little else to do in her cell other than sigh and stare.
Her solicitor had assured her she had very little to worry about, and that the police were just fishing. She wanted to believe him — she desperately wanted to trust every word — but she was starting to feel sure that she’d been deliberately set up.
After all, it wasn’t the first time. The same had happened when Russell died. If she was honest with herself, she still struggled to get over that. Even the coroner’s report said it had been an accident. She could still recall the interview room, the way the officers had looked at her. It was almost as if she were a zoo exhibit rather than a human being. She’d been young. Impressionable. And it had given her a deep distrust of the police.
The moment she’d heard Martin had been found dead and the police were investigating it as suspicious, she knew what would happen next. She had no reason to be worried, of course. She hadn’t seen Martin for days, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been anywhere near the viaduct. So why had she been brought in? She’d asked herself these questions a hundred times since she’d been put in this cell.
Surely it hadn’t been purely down to the argument? People argued at work all the time. And yes, she’d been suspected of murder in the past, but surely the police could see it had been deemed an accident and that she had nothing to do with it? Whichever way she looked at things, all she could see was the police trying to pin something on her. It was ridiculous, especially as it had been Monique who’d been leading Martin on for so long.
They’d mentioned Gavin having been her alibi on both occasions. Of course he had! He’d been the friend she’d gone to after walking out on Russell, and they’d later married. Who else was she going to be with on a Monday evening? The whole thing was ridiculous. But she couldn’t shake that nagging worry…
They had no evidence. Of course they didn’t. There wasn’t any. At least, not any real evidence. But if someone was going out of their way to make it look as though she’d done it, would they have gone as far as to fabricate something? She didn’t know how, but the possibility worried her.
She’d wanted to tell her solicitor her concerns. He’d asked her for her account and had seemed happy enough with her explanation. He seemed to believe her. He’d asked her twice whether she thought there’d be any evidence to the contrary, or anything he should be aware of, and twice she’d said no. Both times, she’d been on the verge of telling him she was worried someone might have deliberately planted evidence, but there seemed to be no right way to word it. There wasn’t anyone she could suspect of doing that. She hadn’t made any enemies. Mentioning it at that point would just make her sound paranoid. Suspicious, even. So she’d kept quiet.
Her solicitor had told her he didn’t think she’d be kept beyond the standard twenty-four-hour custody period. Apparently the police could apply for extensions to that if they had reason to, but he thought her arrest was speculative and the evidence too spurious to get authorisation for that.
As she turned these thoughts over in her mind for the thousandth time, she heard the sound of her cell door unlocking. A young male officer looked at her and asked her to follow him.
They made their way to the custody desk, where the sergeant told her she was being released on bail without charge.
‘So I’m free to go?’ she asked.
‘Yes and no,’ the sergeant replied. ‘You’re being released on bail under Part 4 of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984. It means we’ll be continuing our investigation and that you’re still under suspicion, but you won’t be detained here. There are conditions for your bail, though. You’ll have to remain in the country and surrender your passport until the end of the bail period, and must remain at your home address overnight. You’ll be asked to report here once every seven days until the end of your bail period.’
Amie was desperately trying to listen, trying to understand everything, but all she could think of was getting out of here, getting home and seeing Gavin and the kids. Anything else could be dealt with later.
‘Do you understand everything?’ the sergeant asked.
Amie nodded. ‘Yes. Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.’
‘Would you like to call someone to come and pick you up?’
She thought for a moment, but couldn’t override the deep uneasy feeling that had settled in her gut. Yes, she was going to need a lift back to Market Overton. And she knew exactly who she should call. It would be Gavin. Obviously Gavin. So why did she feel so uneasy?
28
He stared intently at the rear-view mirror and watched as Amie perched against the wall at the front entrance to Oakham Police Station.
He’d picked the perfect spot. The parking bay on Station Road meant he could watch her in his mirrors and there was no way she’d be able to see his face. She wouldn’t recognise the hire car, either. She never did. His positioning gave him the best chance of getting away quickly, should he need to, but he got the impression that wouldn’t be necessary.
She looked different. Her soul seemed heavier. Burdened. It wasn’t the same kindly soul he’d known for all those years, loved for all those years. He could see what this had done to her, and it ate him up inside.
He hadn’t wanted it to work out like this. Of course he hadn’t. She was never meant to be a suspect. He’d allowed everything to get too close to home. And now he’d had to take risks in order to protect her. He knew what that meant. He knew the consequences.
He’d have to tread carefully — far more carefully than he had until now. It might not be long before they’d worked out it wasn’t Amie who’d killed Martin. Not long before they worked out it had been him. He didn’t know what he’d do at that point. He hadn’t thought it through that carefully. But he knew he needed to. He had to have a plan. An escape route.
Everything he’d ever done had been for her. Seeing her happy, angry, upset — it had all given him ultimate clarity on what he’d needed to do at every stage. Seeing her face, how things affected her, always led him towards the right decisio
n. And he knew that would be the case now, too.
She flicked her hair from her face, almost nonchalantly. Anyone else watching would see a woman casually waiting for a lift. But he saw so much more. He knew her better than anybody. He knew her ways, her mannerisms. He knew when they had added weight.
He didn’t want her to feel like this. If only he could take her pain away… Still, he had a feeling things were going to turn out just fine in the end. After all, the new cogs were starting to turn.
29
Caroline had been keen to make amends. She knew it wasn’t Mark’s fault. He was trying to do his best in difficult circumstances, but it wasn’t as if things were much easier for her.
At times she felt smothered, as if she didn’t have the mental space to recover because he was always there. But there was no denying that in other senses they’d drifted. They hadn’t had sex for weeks. Months, perhaps. Immediately after the hysterectomy, it had been impossible. But she felt as if Mark now looked at her in a different way when it came to sex.
It had played into all her biggest fears: that she’d feel less of a woman, that he’d resent her for not being able to bear more children. She knew that chemotherapy and major surgery hadn’t done wonders for her appearance, but she hadn’t expected the taps to completely switch off when it came to physical attraction.
Regardless, she was determined to fix those issues. Whatever else life threw at her, she’d never once lost her determination. Not yet, anyway.
She’d spent over an hour getting ready, and had picked out a dress she hadn’t worn in a while, but which she knew Mark loved. He used to go crazy for her when she wore it, and she smiled at the memories as they came back.
After Archie and Josh were in bed, Mark went out to pick up a takeaway from Orbis in Oakham, and Caroline slipped into the dress. She knew it’d be a nice surprise for him when he got home. She went downstairs and picked out two bottles of red wine they’d had on the rack for some time. They’d been expensive, although she couldn’t remember how much. She opened one of the bottles and poured two glasses, before putting them on the dining table and turning the lights down a little.
