‘You can take your own car and follow me. You are not under arrest. I’ll give you your ticket at the station.’
‘Okay.’
Drake returned to his vehicle, starting the engine. Beth climbed into her front seat, briefly checking her phone before doing the same. There was nothing from Margot. The police car pulled away and overtook her, and Beth pulled out behind him, driving exemplarily.
Her phone buzzed as the cars approached the station. Officer Drake parked up and got out, walking in through the main doors. Beth pulled in, grabbing her mobile quickly.
Margot.
‘Hello.’
‘Beth, I’m at the apartment. But…’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It could be nothing, but I’m outside, and the front door is wide open. I’ve pressed the buzzer but there doesn’t seem to be anyone in.’
A wave of fear washed over Beth, so strong that she felt physically sick.
‘I didn’t want to just walk in. I thought it would be best to call you first.’
‘Can you go in?’
‘Sure, no problem.’
‘Be careful.’
Beth heard the sound of Margot’s stilettos on concrete.
‘I’m going to buzz again, in case they didn’t hear.’
Beth heard the doorbell echo down the phone, as Margot called out, ‘Hello, Charlie?’
There were muffled noises, and Beth pictured Margot pushing the door and stepping inside the property. More footsteps.
‘Oh my God!’ Margot’s voice sounded panicked. Afraid.
‘What is it?’
No reply.
‘Margot? What’s going on?’ Beth yelled into the phone.
Beth heard sounds of a scuffle, heavy breathing, then Margot screamed.
‘Please, no… DON’T!’
There was a clatter, as if the handset had fallen to the floor.
The line went dead.
54
Beth sat staring at her phone. Afraid to breathe, afraid to move. Her jaw hung open in disbelief.
Her family were in grave danger. And what’s more, she had put Margot, her only friend, in the path of that danger and something had happened to her. Something bad.
She glanced over to the double doors leading into the police station. She could make out the figure of Constable Drake waiting impatiently for her inside. She started her engine and pulled away, watching in her rear-view mirror as the officer rushed outside, waving his arms in frustration.
It was a short drive to the apartment. She drove quickly but nervously. Two tickets in one afternoon would not be ideal, but that was the least of her worries.
Nothing mattered anymore apart from the safety of her family, and Margot.
She screeched to a halt by the curb outside Derek’s flat. Margot’s silver TT sat abandoned a few spaces down, hazard lights blinking. Beth glanced at it, noting the driver’s side door was ajar.
As she approached the apartment, it was as Margot had reported. The front door was open. Beth climbed the concrete steps. ‘Hello,’ she called, her voice catching in her throat, the resulting sound being rather pathetic.
Silence.
She pushed and the door creaked slowly as it opened inwards. Everything appeared normal. No overturned furniture. No bloodied note pinned to the wall.
If the door hadn’t been open, you would be forgiven for thinking things were fine. She stepped inside, calling out again, more confident this time. Her footsteps sounded like hammer blows as she made her way towards the living room. She reached the corner and gasped, as she was met with a substantial amount of blood.
Margot’s phone lay on the wooden boards beside the puddle. A mass of dark crimson was pooled on the ground inside the doorway and spattered across the white furniture and walls.
Arterial spray? Beth tried not to think about that. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the room. Took it all in. There were signs of a struggle. Shattered glass strewn across the floor. Messy red handprints smeared the wallpaper and sofa. Cushions lay scattered on the floor.
Beth began to hyperventilate.
Feeling dizzy, she steadied herself against the wall, putting her hand in a sticky wet patch. She recoiled in horror, wiping it on her leg, leaving pink streaks on her jeans. She rushed around the flat, calling for Daisy. The property was deserted. Beth collapsed onto the settee in tears, holding her head. As she sat sobbing, her phone buzzed to life. A message.
If you want to see your family again come and find them. I’ll be waiting where it all began. Come alone. No police or they die.
Beth read it again, her heart pounding. Her mouth was dry, hands shaking. She took a few deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. But her mind kept racing through what might have happened in this room. What had her children witnessed? Whose blood was decorating the walls? She thought of Charlie. Had he been taken by surprise, caught off guard? Had he put up a fight?
It certainly looked like it. Charlie was a big man. It wouldn’t have been easy to overpower him. She pictured Mikey. He was toned, but slim. And much shorter than her husband. How had he managed to get the upper hand?
Beth felt another wave of nausea flow up from the pit of her stomach. She ran her hands through her hair, breathing out slowly. With a calm head, she reread the text message.
I’ll be waiting where it all began.
Until recently, when she visited Wendy Noakes, Beth had not returned to Birmingham since the day she left. When she was seven. Her family had been driven from their home. They didn’t even have time to gather their belongings.
When the newspaper ran her name and picture, her parents knew. They had to leave, and fast. They had never looked back. Beth had no desire to return.
The scene of the crime, as it were. It held nothing but terrible memories for her. It was all part of a life she had tried so hard to forget. And from the outside, it appeared that she had succeeded. But the horrors that had unfolded in her childhood had never left her. They lived with her every day. Every night when she closed her eyes. They hounded her while awake and haunted her dreams.
She had vowed she
