‘I don’t know… I think I was asleep. But then… then… I felt it…’
‘It?’
‘Him. I felt him. His hands on me, his…’ She shuddered.
Anni waited.
‘And I couldn’t… I couldn’t move…’
Another shudder. Anni feared she might cry again. It had happened twice already. She pressed on.
‘You felt his hands on you.’
Suzanne nodded.
‘Do you remember whereabouts on your body?’
Suzanne looked to the floor, her cheeks red.
Anni had to be careful what she said. Traumatic experiences often left a victim open to suggestion. She didn’t want to say anything that could later, in court, be seen as leading Suzanne on. ‘Where did he touch you, Suzanne?’
Suzanne turned her face even further away, closed her eyes like she was anticipating a punch.
‘Suzanne.’ Steel in Anni’s voice once more. Suzanne’s head snapped back round. Now she had her attention again she allowed her voice to drop once more. ‘Suzanne… where did he touch you?’
Suzanne’s eyes closed once more, her lower lip began to tremble. ‘He… he moved my T-shirt up… I couldn’t stop him, I…’ The tears started again. ‘And… and he…’
Anni sat back. ‘OK. OK…’ Her voice was soothing once more. ‘Take a moment.’ Anni waited until Suzanne had composed herself. ‘You said he spoke to you. Can you remember any of the words he said?’
Suzanne shook her head.
‘What did he look like? Can you describe him?’
Another shake of her head. ‘Just… a shape. And those eyes, shining, staring… like, like devils’ eyes… And his hands, touching me. And I, I couldn’t move…’
Anni didn’t press her any more. She decided to move on. ‘And then you, what? Slept?’
Suzanne shrugged. ‘Must have done.’
‘Then got up, opened the curtains…’
Suzanne nodded. ‘Yes. And then…’ Her head dropped once more.
Anni kept looking at her. Scrutinising her. Something was gnawing at her. ‘Were the blinds closed or open?’
‘Open. That’s how I saw the photo.’
‘You said earlier you like your bedroom dark. Is it possible you could have left them open?’
Suzanne shook her head. ‘I’m a light sleeper. I need the room dark as possible. Specially in the summer…’ Her voice trailed off.
‘So you couldn’t have opened the blinds yourself?’
‘No. I never open them.’ Her voice emphatic.
‘Do you open the window to sleep? When it’s warm?’
‘No.’ But her voice wasn’t so emphatic this time.
Anni saw the opening, jumped in. ‘Could you have left the window open and someone got in? Is it possible?’
Suzanne looked up at her, those brown eyes looking suddenly lost. ‘I… I… does it matter?’
Anni shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Suzanne. When something like this happens, we think everything matters.’
She sighed. ‘I don’t know… I didn’t… I can’t… I don’t know…’ She looked once more at the coffee mug.
‘What about the people downstairs?’ Anni had spoken to her neighbours, got nothing from them, ruled them out. But she had to ask. ‘Could they have access?’
‘I don’t see how…’
‘Can you remember going to bed last night?’
‘I…’ Suzanne seemed about to answer in the affirmative but stopped herself. ‘No. I… I woke up this morning feeling really bad, shaky, like I was hungover or something.’ She screwed her face up, thinking back. ‘I can’t… I can’t remember going to bed…’
‘Had you been drinking? Were you hungover?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I just had a bath. Then some chocolate. A glass of wine. Red. Just one. With the chocolate. While I sat on the sofa. Red.’
‘Small glass?’
Suzanne nodded. ‘It’s… on the draining board. The wine bottle is there, too. With the, the cork in it. And then this morning I felt terrible.’
‘Maybe you’re coming down with something.’
‘Maybe. Swine flu. Great. Just what I need.’
‘So, the blind. If you can’t remember going to bed, you might have left it up by mistake. The window open.’
Suzanne frowned. ‘Up? No. The blind’s never up. It might have been open, but it’s never up… and the window… no. No… I didn’t, no…’
Anni looked at her face, checking for truth.
‘Never,’ she said. ‘Never…’
The fear was back in Suzanne’s eyes.
6
The Creeper loved being close.
It was what thrilled him.
Not that he didn’t enjoy the planning – he did. All the following, the strategising. The courtship. The anticipation. It was all good, but it was all for an end result. Being close.
That was what really did it for him. Being in a relationship. Half of a couple. In someone else’s life. That was the part he loved most. It topped the lot, made everything else worthwhile.
And now he had found her. The one.
He smiled to himself.
He had been searching for her for so long. Everywhere. The town, the countryside. Here and… and there. Waiting to hear her voice, a sign, any of the things that would let him know that she was the one.
His star-crossed lover.
His Rani.
And he had her.
And that made him happy.
There had been false starts. Times when he thought he had her, was sure he had her, only for her to disappear once more, leaving only a husk behind. A husk to be disposed of.
And he had been stupid, been a fool for love. But this one was real. He knew it. Could feel it.
And there she was now, so close to him, a few metres away. He could even reach out, touch her… like he had last night.
But he wouldn’t. Not while that policewoman was there.
He would just wait, be patient.
He lay back, stretched out. Listened to the sound of Rani’s voice coming through the boards.
Waiting for another chance to be alone with his lover.
7
Phil looked along the quay, checked to see how well his instructions had been
