Let Me Lie(85)

Someone had the frighteners on her …

Tom. It had to be. And if Caroline had skipped town, did that mean he’d found this flat? Murray was finding it hard to keep up. This investigation had morphed from a double suicide, to a possible double murder, to a fake suicide and now … what?

Was Caroline still on the run, or had Tom caught up with her?

Was Murray now looking at an abduction?

It would be the perfect crime. After all, who’s going to look for a dead woman?

There wasn’t much in the flat. Some clothes, a tin of soup in the cupboard, milk in the fridge Murray wouldn’t risk opening. The bin stank of rotting food, but Murray took the lid off regardless. A clutch of bluebottles flew into his face. He picked up a wooden spoon from the draining board and poked around in the rubbish. His mind was working overtime. What if Caroline hadn’t faked her own death for financial reasons, but because she was scared? Tom had been blackmailing her, asking for more and more money, until Caroline felt the only avenue open to her was to disappear. After all, it had worked for her husband.

Murray’s attention was caught by a sheaf of paperwork buried beneath a pile of used teabags. Something about the layout – the logo – was familiar, and when he pulled it out he knew exactly what it was. The question was, why did Caroline have it?

As he read through the document, pieces of the puzzle began to drop into place. He didn’t have the whole answer – not yet – but everything was beginning to make sense. Fake suicides were driven by money, yes. Sex, too. But there was another reason why people wanted to disappear, and it looked as though Murray had just found it.





FIFTY


ANNA


Mum is packing. She doesn’t have much – the small bag she took with her to the Hope, and a few bits I’ve persuaded her to take from her own wardrobe at Oak View. I sit on her bed, wanting to beg her to stay, but knowing it’s pointless to try. She won’t stay. She can’t stay. The police will be back, and next time they won’t let me off so lightly. It’s going to be hard enough convincing them I know nothing about my parents’ crimes, without worrying about whether Mum is well hidden enough.

‘Won’t you at least stay for the party?’ Mark said, when she announced at breakfast she would leave today. ‘See in the New Year with us?’

‘I’m not really one for parties,’ she said easily.

She loves parties. At least, the old Mum loved parties. I’m not sure about this one. My mother has changed – and I don’t just mean the weight loss and the dyed hair. She’s anxious. Subdued. Constantly watchful. She’s been broken, and now my grief is two-fold. I am mourning not only a mother, but the woman she used to be.

I make one final attempt to keep her.

‘If we told the police everything—’

‘Anna, no!’

‘They might understand why you did what you did.’

‘And they might not.’

I fall silent.

‘I’ll go to prison. You might too. You’ll tell them you’ve only known since Christmas Eve that I’m alive, but do you think they’ll believe that? When it looks as though Tom and I planned this together? When the house is in your name now?’

‘That’s my problem.’

‘And when you’re arrested it’ll be Mark’s and Ella’s. Do you want that little girl growing up without a mother?’

I don’t. Of course I don’t. But I don’t want to be without one either.

Mum zips up her bag. ‘There. Done.’ She tries for a smile that convinces neither of us. I reach for her bag, but she shakes her head. ‘I can manage. In fact …’ She breaks off.

‘What is it?’

‘You’ll think me ridiculous.’

‘Try me.’

‘Could I say goodbye to the house? Just a few minutes …’

I pull her to me, hugging her so tightly I feel the very bones of her. ‘Of course you can. It’s your house, Mum.’

Gently, she breaks away; smiles sadly. ‘It’s your house. Yours, Mark’s and Ella’s. And I want you to fill it with happy memories, do you understand?’

I nod, blinking hard. ‘Mark and I will take Ella around the park. Give you a bit of time to say your goodbyes.’

I don’t think her ridiculous at all. A home is far more than just a house, far more than bricks and mortar. It’s why I wouldn’t countenance Mark’s suggestion that we sell up; why I didn’t want to challenge Robert’s Grand Designs extension. This is where I live. I’m happy here. I don’t want anything to change that.

In the park Mark pushes Ella’s pram, and I tuck my hand into the crook of his arm.

‘You haven’t had a call from the police, have you?’

I look at him sharply. ‘What do you mean? Why would I have had a call from the police?’

Mark laughs. ‘Relax. I don’t think the FBI have caught up with you just yet. The guy from CID said he’d ring today to let us know if they’d managed to get any DNA from the rubber band. I’ve had nothing on my mobile, and I thought they might have tried the house phone.’

‘Oh. No, nothing.’ The pram’s wheels leave puddle tracks on the path. ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking about that and I … I think we should drop it.’