The Other People: A Novel(51)
She squinted at it. “So, still several months before the murders.”
“Yes. Jenny had been busy. We both were.” He frowned. When had they stopped documenting every moment of Izzy’s life? When had they become so fragmented as a family?
“The photo used in the newspapers was a school photo?”
“Yes, from the previous year.”
Maddock drummed her fingers on the table. “Your father-in-law did the formal identification. Whose decision was that?”
“No one’s, really. I was supposed to do it but then I was ill, passed out…”
“So, you never saw your daughter after she died?”
“No.”
She chewed her lip. Obviously came to a decision.
“Okay. These are the photographs you gave me.”
She opened the plastic folder and laid the photos of Jenny and Izzy on the table a short distance apart.
She gave him a moment to look at them.
“This”—Maddock took another photo out of the folder and laid it next to the photo of Jenny—“is the photo of your wife I obtained from the coroner.”
Gabe stared at the photograph. It was identical to the one Harry had given him. His heart didn’t fall. He had expected it. Sometimes, you just knew. Jenny was dead. He could feel the vacuum she had left.
He nodded. “Okay. They’re the same.”
Roberts reached into the folder again. “This is the second photo I obtained from the coroner.”
He felt himself tense. It all came down to this.
“This is the little girl who was found dead at your home. The little girl your father-in-law identified as your daughter.”
She placed the photograph on the table next to the photo of Izzy.
His world seem to expand, contract and shatter all at once. The girl’s face was pale and fine-boned, blonde hair swept back from a high forehead. She looked so similar, familiar even, but…
“It’s not Izzy.”
“No. I also did a little more checking on the coroner’s report.” She sighed and showed him a scan of a document on her phone. One sentence had been ringed in red: “Front milk tooth missing. Suggests trauma.”
He stared at her. “Trauma?”
“The tooth was knocked out. It was recovered at the scene.”
The significance dawned. “Izzy had already lost her front milk tooth. I told you, in my statement.”
She nodded. “I can see how the confusion arose but, still, someone should have picked up on it.” She paused. “I should have fucking well picked up on it.”
A smile spread across his face. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to laugh. To cry. To jump up and down. All this time, he had known, but he hadn’t known. It hadn’t been proven. Now, here it was. Evidence.
“I’m sorry,” he started to say. “I know it’s wrong. Another little girl is dead, but—”
“I understand. It isn’t your little girl. Don’t be sorry. I should be the one saying sorry to you. You were right. Your daughter did not die that night. She may even still be alive.” She leaned forward. “That’s why, if you have any information that could help us find her, I need you to share it with me.”
He debated. He didn’t owe Harry anything, but fuck it, Harry still owed him an explanation. He wanted to look him in the eye and call him a liar.
“No. Not really.”
“Okay.” Said in a tone that implied she didn’t believe him. “There’s something else you should know. We found the car.”
He waited, trying to look less guilty than he felt.
“Right.”
“There was a body—in the trunk. Been there a while.”
He tried his best to look shocked.
“Oh God.”
“Yeah. That’s not all.”
“It’s not?”
“We found another victim nearby. A woman.”
This time, his look of shock was genuine.
“A woman?”
“We don’t know who she is yet. We’re not even sure if she’ll regain consciousness.”
“She’s alive?”
She gave him an odd look. “If you can call it that.”
His mind tried to process this new information. A woman. But who was she?
“Gabriel, did anyone else know about the car?”
The Samaritan. Night work.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“But you can’t be sure.”
“No.”
“And you never looked inside the trunk when you found the car.”
“No.”
“Good. Stick to that story.”
“Story? You think I had something to do with it?”
“No, I don’t. But be prepared to answer a lot of questions. You are going to be in the spotlight all over again, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And get a good solicitor.”
Remarkably, the children went up to bed with minimal fuss, even Sam, who liked to stretch out his bedtime routine well past breaking point. Staying up for a whole extra hour, and the evening’s unexpected excitement, must have tired them out. To be fair, Alice had looked as if she could have dropped off face down in her cheese on toast. She yawned with every mouthful and dark half-moons circled her blue eyes. Katie wondered when she had last slept or eaten properly.