PC Page is silent for a moment. ‘While the investigation is still going on, all I can tell you is that we have sufficient evidence to implicate your mother. I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more than that.’
My stomach churns as she speaks, but it still isn’t conclusive. ‘Have you found his body?’
‘Not yet.’ She sighs. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, Jess. But as well as physical evidence, we have accounts of what was going on between Matt and your mother. Enough for us to build a fairly clear picture of what was happening.’
‘But you still don’t actually have a body.’ My voice is fierce as I challenge her.
She doesn’t comment. Then she changes the subject. ‘I did want to ask you more about what you’ve discovered about Mr Roche – through Facebook. Is now a good time?’
Nodding, I think of the pictures on my wall at uni. ‘I started looking through his friends. There was a woman called Mandy, who he was with before he met my mother. From the comments, I think he treated her quite badly. Before her, there were others, more short-lived – mostly wealthy women who led him to meet the next wealthy woman. It was through Mandy that he met my friend Sasha’s mum. And it was through her that he met Mum.’
All the time I’m talking, she listens intently, a frown on her face. ‘I think you should show me. And we’ll try to contact Mandy. See what she has to say about him. If it was as contrived as you’re describing, it suggests there has to be a reason.’
‘He’s motivated by money – at least, that’s what it looks like. I honestly think he was after our house. He was adamant about selling and moving to Brighton. I think that’s why he hadn’t cancelled the wedding. Once they were married, wouldn’t he have been entitled to half the house? Or else …’ I stop, not knowing what to believe. ‘Unless Mum was his key to someone else – someone he’s already met. The next woman whose money he wants to get his hands on.’
Quiet for a moment, PC Page gets out a small notebook and starts writing. ‘You mentioned your mother met Matt through your friend Sasha’s mum – can you give me her name and address?’
Nodding, I tell her, watching her write it down, suddenly realising it’s me who needs to talk to Sasha’s mum, as soon as possible. ‘Are you going to call her?’
‘We may well do.’ She pauses, frowning. ‘Going back to what you said just now, about Matt eyeing up a potential partner … Have you found anything to suggest who that might be?’
I shake my head. ‘Not yet. It was a hunch. But as far as I can see, there’s a pattern. It seems to fit.’
She frowns again. ‘I wanted to ask you about your mother’s workshop. Do you know what she keeps in there?’
‘Mostly her herbs in labelled jars. It’s the most potent form, from which she dilutes them. It’s very precise.’
‘I need to take another look.’ Then as we start walking back towards Cath’s car, I ask her, ‘How much longer will this be cordoned off?’ I want the plastic tape gone, my freedom back.
‘I can’t say, Jess. But I’ll let you know as soon as we’re done. I’m going to look into the Facebook thing. I’ll let you know if I find anything.’
As Cath gets out of her car and walks towards us, her face is anxious. ‘Are you OK, Jess?’
I nod. ‘Yeah. We’re done here.’
‘You want to go?’
Nodding, I walk over to her car and get in. After a brief exchange with PC Page, a couple of minutes later, she joins me.
‘Did you find out what you wanted to?’
‘Not really.’ My voice wavers, while a tear snakes its way down my cheek. ‘She said they have evidence, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. She also said they have a clear picture of how things were between Mum and Matt. I don’t know how, exactly. And after the way Matt’s treated her, then met someone else, they probably think she has a motive. It’s completely and utterly shit.’ My voice is bitter, my brain desperately casting around for other answers – the right answer, because at the moment, the police are missing something.
1996
After. Grief. Sadness. Ripples multiplying. One death leading to another death – the boy you wanted for your own. Not one, but two devastated families, all because of you.
How long before you shrugged it off? Telling yourself it was an accident – how many hundreds of times, until you believed your own lies? I wonder if when you look back now, how you’d tell the story of what happened that day. Who you’d blame. Knowing your mind has distorted it and turned it into something more palatable; because even a heart as twisted as yours has become, somewhere deep inside you must know the truth.
And when it comes out, the whole world will know your game and it will be over. The pretence, the lies, the hiding behind false names. Because I know who you are. I’ve always known. And I’ll make sure you pay for what you did.
Amy
Chapter Thirty-One
Each session of questioning conspires to lower me further. Maintaining my composure in the interview room, it’s only when I’m back in my cell that I allow my tears to fall, holding on to the only fact I’m sure of: that I’m innocent. None of this should be happening to me.
When I’m next taken to the interview room, instead of DI Lacey, there’s another woman with PC
