‘That’s right – my partner. Matthew Roche.’
‘Can I ask you when you last spoke to him?’
‘The night before last. We spent the evening together.’
She pauses briefly. ‘What makes you think he’s missing?’
I frowned. ‘Partly my instincts. He came to see me the night before last. He was supposed to call me yesterday and I haven’t heard from him. Usually he texts or calls several times a day. I’ve tried him several times. I’ve tried him at work too, but they haven’t seen him.’
‘You say Mr Roche is your partner?’ There was uncertainty in her voice.
‘Yes. It’s complicated. We don’t live together. He lives with a woman called Amy Reid. I’m guessing she will have reported him missing.’ If she hadn’t, she certainly should have, I wanted to add, but I bit my tongue. It was still possible I’d got this wrong and they’d reconciled their differences, Amy persuading him to cut off contact with me, after he’d decided to stay with her. But a sixth sense told me that wasn’t what had happened. ‘Matt was going to leave her. The night he disappeared, we spent the evening together. When he left my flat, he was going back to tell her. He was worried about how she’d react. That was the last time I saw him.’
There was a moment’s silence. ‘We are aware of him. Go on.’
So Amy had been in touch. ‘I’m not sure what else I can tell you. It was obvious Matt had been restless for some time. Living a lie was getting to him. Matt isn’t a compulsive liar – he’s just not the type. I’m a lawyer. I can see the signs coming a mile off.’ It’s true. At the start, he’d been so weighed down with guilt, I thought he was going to break it off with me. ‘He was dreading having to tell Amy, but it wasn’t fair to keep leading her on. Their wedding is only a couple of weeks away. He knew he wanted to be with me. He meant every word.’ I paused, swallowing. ‘He was about to move his things into my place. Yesterday.’
‘I see.’ As she paused, I’d imagined her reconciling the Matt I was describing with Amy’s Matt. She went on. ‘Do you have a photo of him?’
‘Several. Would you like me to send them to you?’
‘We’ll come and collect them – I have a photograph I’d like you to identify. If you give me your address, I’ll get onto it straight away.’ After I gave her the address, PC Page hesitated. ‘There is one thing I do have to ask. If you’d guessed Ms Reid would report her fiancé missing, why did you feel the need to call us?’
‘In case she hadn’t …’ I broke off for a moment, gazing through the window at a seagull perched on a rooftop. ‘This is difficult, because I only know what Matt’s told me about her. But what I do know is he worries about her. That’s why he kept putting off telling her he was leaving her.’
Her voice was sharp. ‘What exactly was he worried about?’
I sighed. ‘He described several times how her behaviour could be erratic. She could be quite aggressive towards him. They had violent rows where she’d end up smashing things.’ I broke off, worried. What if she’d attacked him? ‘He wanted to pack his stuff and get out of the house while she wasn’t there, but the problem is she works from home. She’s always there. It’s meant he hasn’t had the chance. I just thought you should know what he said.’ I paused. ‘I’d rather Amy didn’t know about me. From everything he’s told me about her, I really don’t want her trying to find me. I have my career to think about – I’ve just started working with a new law firm. I don’t want her coming here and screwing it up.’
‘It might be helpful if the two of you were to meet at some point, but I take your point, Ms Rose. She won’t find out from us. As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re legally obliged to maintain confidentiality.’
As a lawyer, I was fully aware, I just wanted to be sure the police knew I was. ‘What happens now?’
‘We’ll continue our enquiries. In the meantime, if you think of anything else that might help, can you contact us?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you.’ She paused, as if there was something she wanted to ask, then thought better of it. ‘Someone will be round to see you shortly. And if we need any more information, we’ll be in touch.’
After the call ended, I scrolled through my photos until I found what I was looking for, selfies of Matt and I in the grounds of a country house hotel in the Lake District, the first weekend we spent away together, before printing them off in readiness for the police.
It had been a magical weekend, tainted only by the knowledge that he’d told Amy he was going to Dubai for work. He hated the subterfuge. It was what I hated too – living a lie.
An hour later, I get a call from one of our receptionists. ‘Fiona? There’s an Officer Walker here to see you.’
‘Can you show them in?’
Minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, before it opens. The young uniformed officer looks uncertainly at me. ‘Ms Rose?’
‘Yes.’ I get up. ‘Come in. Close the door behind you, will you?’ As he does what I ask, I pick up the photos I’ve printed off. ‘I imagine you’ve come for these?’
‘Thank you ma’am.’ Hesitating, he takes a brown envelope out of his pocket, then pulls out a couple of photos. ‘Would you mind taking a look?’
Taking the photos, I quickly glance at them. ‘That’s Matt. The woman …’ I hesitate, staring at Amy’s face. ‘I’m fairly sure I saw her. The evening Matt disappeared. I was on my way home. She was walking quite near to where I live.’
Frowning, he takes out a notebook. ‘About what time would
