“Oh, Ken! When are you going to tell the truth? They aren’t fools!”
Tamara was surprised. Jane, often so measured if not calculating, sounded exasperated. For his part, Janssen raised his eyebrows which was possibly the most animated she had ever seen him when speaking with suspect or witness. Ken remained resolute in his reticence and so it fell to Jane, her frustration evident as she abandoned the coffee making, leaning against the worktop and crossing her arms in front of her.
“We came across Colin Bettany out on Holkham sands,” Jane explained. “He attacked Ken.”
“Why would he do that?” she asked.
“The man’s deranged,” Jane replied. “If I wasn’t there, I reckon he would have killed him.”
“That’s quite an accusation,” Janssen said.
“My wife is exaggerating… as usual.” Finally offering some kind of reaction, Ken was dismissive, drawing a deep sigh from the other side of the kitchen. He shook his head, resigned to her ire. “The man is in pain. He’s lost his daughter and is looking around for someone to blame. Somewhere for him to direct his sense of loss. He picked me. Let’s not get too carried away.”
Tamara glanced between the two of them. Jane was still glaring at her husband but he appeared disinterested in her theories. “In my experience, grieving parents don’t generally assault members of the public for no reason.”
“Victim blaming!” Jane replied. “What a surprise.”
She ignored the comment, instead coming alongside Ken and sitting down. He looked across at her, quickly averting his eyes from her gaze. “Holly modelled for you. Your wife confirmed it. Is there anything else you need to tell us?” She chose her words carefully, reinforcing the point they were aware of his deceit and not mincing her words with the open question.
“Holly and I… we had a relationship,” Ken said softly. “I thought I was in love with her… for a while, at least.” Lifting his head, he met her gaze. His eyes glazed over, tears welling. “I miss her. I did not kill her.” His tone was firm, unyielding.
“What did Colin Bettany say when you allege he assaulted you?”
Ken pursed his lips momentarily before answering. “He was ranting about all sorts of bizarre things. I didn’t really catch any of it. Everything happened so quickly. I stood up. We were sitting in the dunes, chatting. That’s when he hit me.”
“How did you respond?” she asked him.
“I didn’t, not really. Jane gave him a piece of her mind.”
“Was Colin aware of your relationship or his daughter’s modelling for you?” Tamara flicked her eyes to Janssen, as straight-faced as ever. Ken shook his head. “How did it come about, your relationship?”
“We met through Colin and Marie. We went to theirs for dinner. Holly was animated by what I do. She spoke to me regarding my work, saying she loved it. Whether she knew about me beforehand or looked me up once her parents announced we were coming over, I don’t know. She tickled my ego; I won’t deny it. I was low and her attentions excited me, made me feel… alive, maybe.”
Jane turned her back on them. These must be hard words for her to hear, an admission of infidelity delivered with indifference. What reaction would such betrayal generate? How might an aggrieved partner respond? Obviously, Jane was aware of this before today but exactly when she knew could either place her as a suspect or as an unwitting victim in the wider scheme of things.
“I know how it sounds… and how it looks for that matter,” Ken continued, “which is why I didn’t tell you before. I may well be a foolish, middle-aged man but I’m not a killer.”
“And the baby? How did you feel about that?” She watched him intently. Ken’s mouth fell open but he held her eye. If he knew, then he was quite some poker player. “Holly was pregnant. You knew that?”
“No! I… Holly was pregnant?” Ken stammered, looking to his wife.
Tamara followed his gaze. Jane was unfazed, her expression unreadable. “From what you’ve told us, you could well have been the father. We’ve also been looking into the circumstances surrounding your move away from London.” Ken visibly tensed. “A number of allegations were made against you—”
“None of which led to a prosecution,” Jane snapped.
“And in light of your husband’s revelation along with Colin Bettany’s reaction, we need to examine every potential scenario. I should caution you that you do not have to say anything—”
“I am well aware of my rights, detective,” Ken stated, waving away her attempt to follow procedure. “I have nothing to hide. Ask me whatever you need to and then you can both leave!”
“Who else was aware of the nature of your relationship with Holly?”
His eyes narrowed, appearing to her as if he was genuinely thinking about the question. Whether the delay was due to his search for accuracy or a wilful attempt at misdirection was a judgement call. “No one, as far as I know. I told Jane after… Holly’s passing. I haven’t told anyone else. Why would I?”
She asked Jane to confirm the information.
“I knew Holly came over and that she was sitting for Ken, yes.”
“And you were comfortable with him being alone with a young girl?” she asked, unable to keep the air of judgement out of her tone. Jane bristled but didn’t respond. “You didn’t have any doubts about what was going on, particularly after recent events in London? I find that a little hard to believe.”
“Are you married, Detective Chief Inspector?” Jane asked pointedly. She was disinclined to make the conversation personal to her, merely shaking her head. “Well, when you are, you’ll learn that all marriages are unique in one way or another. You start out on the same page but over time circumstances can change.” She stared at Ken, he remained impassive, seemingly impervious to his wife’s tangent. “Often you find out you’re not married to the same person you thought you were. One, or both of you takes it a different
