‘Look, I’m taking the money, okay?’ Matt says, his voice rising. ‘It’s my job to protect this family.’
‘Oh my God, seriously?’ Milla spits out. ‘Did I miss our U-turn back to nineteenth-century patriarchy?’
‘You’re happy to use my physical stature when it’s about scaring Jess!’
The doorbell goes, but instead of feeling saved by it, my heart catapults into my mouth. I push my chair back, praying it’s just a delivery. I watch Matt slip the bag of money into the drawer of our dresser with fake nonchalance, then go to find out.
‘DI Finnemore,’ I announce as I pull the door open. The high volume is mainly to warn the rest of my family, but it’s also an escape route for the scream surging up from my lungs. ‘How can I help?’
His expression is hard to read. ‘Could I come in for a moment?’
‘Of course,’ I say, smiling brightly to distract him from my rising pitch. Then I gesture to the living area – away from the kitchen – and sit down in the sofa opposite him. I don’t trust my voice, so I wait silently for him to explain why he’s come.
‘They’re dismantling the crime scene today,’ he starts. ‘So I went up to take a last look round. Make sure it’s ready to be returned to the public. Not that I don’t trust my team of course …’
As his voice trails off, I think about the bluebells crushed by a dead body and dozens of heavy black boots. The blood-smeared foliage. I push my lips together and nod.
‘And as I was passing,’ he continues, ‘I thought I would drop in. We found a couple of hairs on Amber’s clothing, and I’d like to check if they’re yours, for elimination purposes. The hair is broken, which means we can’t extract DNA, but I was wondering if I could ask for a sample of yours for visual analysis?’
‘Um, yes, that’s fine,’ I mumble. He’s taken me off guard, and as I pull out my scrunchy, my mind careers through what this could mean. Of course it will be my hair. At my age, I moult like a dog. I curl a couple of hairs around my finger and feel a sharp sting as I yank them away from my scalp. Yes, Lucy’s hair is similar, but it’s not the same as mine; the police will see that. I wait for the detective to open an evidence bag, then with shaking hands, I drop the few strands inside.
‘Thank you,’ he says, sealing the bag. But he doesn’t move to get up. I wait, every muscle taut. ‘I also wondered if Lucy could spare me five minutes,’ he goes on.
‘Oh?’
‘There’s just something on her statement that I wanted to clarify; nothing to worry about. Is she in?’
I pause, smile, wonder if my heart is going to gallop right out of my chest. ‘Sorry, no. Lucy’s at a friend’s house for tea. I was with her during her interview though, so perhaps I can help with whatever you need clarifying?’
He stays silent for a moment, nodding gently. ‘Lucy told DC Bzowski that she went out last Friday night,’ he finally says.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I whisper. My mind races. Have they cleaned up the CCTV footage DC Bzowski mentioned? Do they now know for certain that it was Lucy on Keens Lane, forty-five minutes earlier than she claimed to be out?
‘And I wonder if you could confirm her timings for me again.’
I bite the inside of my cheek, taste blood. Should I admit to this one lie to keep the detective from uncovering any more, or is it like Jenga, with each lie dependent upon the others? I hold my breath for a moment, then slowly exhale. ‘She said she left home about ten forty-five,’ I whisper.
‘She said?’ he picks up, lifting the words into a question.
‘I was out for supper,’ I explain. ‘A curry, at the Indian, with some girlfriends. I got back soon after that, and Lucy wasn’t in her room. She’d left a note saying she couldn’t sleep and had gone for a walk to clear her head. But she’d left her phone at home, so the only option was to go out and look for her. And that also might mean she got her timings a bit out.’
The detective frowns. ‘How so?’
‘Lucy’s phone was out of battery,’ I lie. ‘That’s why she didn’t take it with her. But it’s also her only source of telling the time. Lucy doesn’t wear a watch, you see. So she told DC Bzowski that she went out at ten forty-five, but it could only have been a guess.’ DI Finnemore has already told me that he’s got teenage children, so I try to give him my ‘we’re in this together’ smile.
‘And do you remember what time you found Lucy?’ he asks, his tone suggesting my efforts haven’t worked.
I think about my frantic journey up Church Road followed by my relieved one back down with my daughter in tow. I stayed on the opposite side of the road to the shops on my way there. Can I risk assuming the cameras didn’t pick me up? Or is continuing to lie pointless now? If they can put Lucy on Keens Lane before 10 p.m., then theoretically she’d have time to kill Amber anyway. ‘Lucy was in the churchyard,’ I say nervously. ‘I don’t know the exact time I found her, but it was around eleven fifteen, or a bit later. We stayed for a while, chatting, before heading home. It’s hard to be certain how long we were there.’
DI Finnemore nods. ‘Of course, I understand.’ He lifts out of the sofa.
‘So that’s everything you need?’ I ask, mirroring his movement.
‘For now, yes. We might need to talk to Lucy again, but it can wait until next week. I’ll let you know.’ He smiles and I return it. Surely he wouldn’t be this nice if he thought Lucy was a killer?
‘How’s the investigation going in general?’ I ask, trying to sound like I’m just making conversation.
‘There’s been some progress,’ he says sagely. ‘I’m doing a press conference in an hour actually, so there’ll be an update on the local news this evening.’
‘Oh?’ I think about Steve’s account of the young mechanic getting hauled off by the police, and Colleen mentioning a boyfriend. ‘Does that mean you have a suspect?’
He looks at me quizzically, and I worry that I’ve gone too far. But then his expression softens. ‘We have somebody in custody, but it’s early days. Now, I must go, otherwise I’ll be late for my own TV show.’
‘Well, good luck,’ I mumble. He nods, then walks through the door and pulls it behind him. I take a long breath.
‘They’ve arrested someone then,’ Matt says, appearing from the kitchen. ‘That’s good news.’
‘Yes,’ I say in a quiet voice, forcing myself to block out the detective’s interest in Lucy and focus on the positive. ‘Do you think we should call tonight off? If they’ve got someone in custody, and are willing to tell the press, they must be pretty confident he did it. And then there would be nothing for Jess to blackmail Lucy over.’ I watch Matt consider my question in his usual way, pitting the pros and cons against each other.
‘No,’ he finally says. ‘Let the girl have her money. Then tomorrow it will all be over.’
Email from DI Finnemore (SIO) to DCI Bishop
Subject: Friday 10th May update
Sir,
