The Moor (DCI Ryan Mysteries, #11)(78)

*

Ryan battled through the crowd until he reached the opening marked ‘EXIT C’ and it didn’t take too long before he emerged back onto the moorland outside. The crowds were disorientating, and he took a moment to get his bearings before jogging around to the other side of the tent, where the caravan park was located on the far side. The ground beneath his feet was slippery after the deluge earlier, and a couple of times he almost lost his footing, but he vaulted onto the side of a nearby stall to get a better view above the crowd.

He spotted Leonie immediately, heading in the direction of the black motorhome she’d shared with her husband.

Ryan put a call through to the Control Room to send immediate support, then cut between two tents and sprinted along the back of them, avoiding the swathes of people who milled around or fought to get back to their cars. He made swift progress, that way, and eventually reached the boundary fence separating the circus area from the caravan park.

He relayed his position back to Phillips, and then prepared to face the monster Samantha had seen, all those years ago.

*

Ryan knocked on the door to the motorhome and called out a warning.

“Mrs D’Angelo! This is Detective Chief Inspector Ryan! Can you open the door please?”

He waited a moment and, when there was no response, hammered on the door again.

“Leonie! Open the door please, or I will force entry!”

Conscious that the woman was volatile, and possibly armed, Ryan turned the door handle and pushed it open exercising extreme caution.

“Leonie?”

He spotted her straight away, because she’d made no attempt to hide. She was seated on the floor, legs outstretched and with her back against the kitchen units, clutching what appeared to be an open bottle of window cleaner.

“Hello, Chief Inspector,” she said, in a friendly voice. “I’m sorry, things are a bit topsy-turvy, at the moment, but you’re welcome to come in and have a seat.”

He eyed the large knife block on the countertop, clocked the heavy brass pan sitting on the hob, and then scanned the room for anything else that could be used as a dangerous weapon.

Then, he stepped inside.

“You must be uncomfortable on the floor there, Leonie,” he said quietly. “Wouldn’t you like to sit on the sofa, here?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Besides, it won’t be for much longer.”

Ryan looked between the bottle of toxic fluid and the baby bump, and felt his heart begin to pound.

“I knew it would be you,” she said, after a minute. “I could see it in your face, all that tenacity.”

Ryan said nothing, then slid to the floor to sit cross-legged in front of her. Within range of being able to wrestle the bottle from her hand, if need be—and far enough away to take evasive manoeuvres if she attacked him.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Her eyes were wild and unfocused when she looked up.

“Ha! I had you fooled for a while, didn’t I? Go on, admit it.”

“Yes, you had us fooled.”

She smiled at that, as if they were discussing something much more trivial than murder.

“I like your home,” she said, suddenly. “I drove up there, the other night, in case that’s where you had Samantha stashed away. Your wife is very beautiful.”

Ryan felt sick at the thought of this crazed woman having watched her from the shadows of the hedgerows.

“Why did you go up there, Leonie?”

She turned coy.

“Well, I know I shouldn’t have, but, if you’d only let me take care of it, things would have been so much easier. Now, look what’s happened.”

Ryan looked away, so she wouldn’t see the fury in his eyes.

“You killed Esme, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

No denial, no remorse—just a simple acknowledgement.

“Because of Marco?”

She nodded.

“Esme had a sort of aura around her. She was the type of woman who turned heads, even when she didn’t mean to. She couldn’t help it, and we used to laugh about it. But then, I started noticing the changes in Marco. He was distracted, less affectionate with me. He’d be as excited as a puppy whenever she came over, or even walked by. It was pathetic, but I knew it was just a passing thing. If she’d only go away, he’d have time to get over it and come back to me.”

“What happened?”

“He didn’t say anything, and I kept it to myself while he worked her out of his system. He thought I was so stupid,” she said, shaking her head. “He thought he’d kept it all so secret. But a woman knows, chief inspector.

“I wasn’t going to let it go on much longer. They’d had their fun, and I’d been a good friend in sharing him, for a while. That’s what I told myself, that I was being a good friend. But then, something changed in him. It wasn’t just that he was sneaking about, it was as though he was detaching himself from me, emotionally. That was a step too far.”

“You went to speak to her?”

Leonie nodded, twisting the bottle between her fingers.

“She looked surprised to see me,” she said, with a harsh laugh. “She was surprised her stupid friend, Leonie, had noticed that something was going on. I told her she was nothing but a common whore, and that she should keep away from now on. I told her our friendship was over. That’s when I saw the bags sitting on the sofa, and I knew. I knew they were planning to leave together, that day.”