Because Sniffy had been completely unperturbed, either by the music or by the voice. There couldn’t have been anyone in the house, playing music and speaking to her, because the dog would have heard, sensed or smelled them. The only conclusion left was that the music and the voice had been in Evi’s head.
Excited by the snow, Sniffy was leaping around the garden now, digging with her front paws, hurling snow into the air with her nose. She raced down to the wall, turned and sped back again. She was very fast.
A few hours before dawn, Evi had fallen into an exhausted doze, only to be woken at seven when Sniffy needed to go out. Laura had called round mid-morning, as promised, to take her out for a run. They’d been gone for an hour and had returned drenched in sweat and trembling with exhaustion.
Exercise-induced weariness aside, Laura had been looking hugely better that morning. She’d slept well and thought she was managing to shake off whatever bug had been threatening. Her sleep hadn’t been disturbed by a single dream.
Evi had said nothing about her own night.
After Laura had left, Evi had called Jessica’s friends in St Catharine’s to see if they’d heard from her. They hadn’t. At six o’clock that evening, they told her, Jessica’s tutor would contact the police. Evi sent a short email to the tutor stating that, in her opinion, Jessica was a vulnerable person who needed to be located as a matter of priority.
Before coming out, Evi had wrapped her thickest coat round her shoulders. She’d pulled on gloves and a scarf. None of them stopped her shivering. Twice now, once on a mountain in Austria, once in a new house in Lancashire, she’d almost died after a fall. Sometimes she dreamed that she was falling. She never hit the ground in her dreams but in those few seconds it always felt as though this was how it was meant to be. That Evi was destined to fall to her death.
No one could have learned that on the internet. No one could have Googled Evi Oliver and discovered that the song with the power to break her heart was Springsteen’s ‘Dancing in the Dark’. No one could have found out that she hated fir cones. Laura had been wrong. This wasn’t someone bent on revenge, or even someone down here trying to stop her from rocking the boat. She was losing her grip on reality. Going nuts. It was as simple as that.
‘YOU’RE VERY QUIET,’ said Nick, topping up my wine glass.
‘I had a new experience today,’ I said, managing a smile. ‘That usually makes me thoughtful.’
Thoughtful didn’t nearly cover it. Bryony had named a bell as something she was scared of. Scott Thornton, a man with unusual hobbies involving female humiliation, had visited an industrial estate named after an old bell foundry. Had I found a connection? And was it significant enough for me to break Joesbury’s embargo on contact?
We were in the large old-fashioned kitchen of Nick’s house. I’d helped him settle the birds in their shed and feed them; an interesting, if slightly gory experience, given that they ate dead chicks and pieces of the game we’d caught that wouldn’t make the grade as human food. After the birds were sorted, Nick mixed up three buckets of horse feed and gave one to the grey gelding, Shadowfax. He usually rode him early in the morning, he told me, with the dogs going along for the exercise. I was beginning to feel as though I’d stepped into the pages of
By the time we finished supper I knew I should really get back, phone Evi, check whether there was any news on Jessica and try once more to re-establish contact with the elusive Mark Joesbury.
‘Anything you want to share?’ Nick asked me.
On the other hand, they all had my mobile number. And I really needed to strike Nick off my list of prime suspects if I could. ‘You know this thing Evi Oliver’s been worried about,’ I said. ‘The suicides?’
Nick gave a theatrical sigh, but put his glass down and leaned back on his chair. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘You know she’s been talking about suicide websites and online goading.’
He nodded.
‘Well, let’s just say that it’s a bit more organized than that. What if someone is actually targeting vulnerable people, then making their lives as miserable as possible?’
‘With the sole intent of driving them over the edge?’ said Nick, a tiny smile on his face that told me he thought I was being fanciful.
‘Yes. Is it possible, in theory, to spot potential suicides?’
‘That’s really a question for Evi,’ said Nick.
‘You’re right,’ I said, putting both hands on the table in front of me, as though I were about to stand up. ‘I’ll go ask her.’
Beneath the table, first one long leg, and then the other, wrapped themselves around my ankle. I wasn’t going anywhere.
‘Anyone suffering severe emotional pain, for whatever reason, must be a potential suicide,’ said Nick. ‘But that’s a lot of people. Very few of whom, fortunately, will take the ultimate step.’
‘How do you find them, though? They don’t wear badges.’
‘It’s not difficult to spot someone with problems. Anyone with half a brain can do it. You, for example.’
‘Me?’
One hand reached out and covered mine. ‘You’re hiding a dark secret,’ he said. ‘Going to tell me what it is?’
Where would I start? ‘So it’s just a question of finding someone with issues and getting to know them better,’ I said. ‘Finding out what buttons to press?’ I was thinking of what Evi had told me about Jessica, the girl with an eating disorder who’d been publicly teased about her weight. Nicole had been afraid of rats and had been teased about it.
‘That would be the minimum, in my view. The survival instinct is pretty strong in most people.’
‘So what else? If you were going to drive someone to suicide how would you do it?’
‘Making them live in this house from December through February would be a start,’ he said.
‘Seriously.’
‘Can we talk about something nice soon? Like the fact that the skin just below your collar bone looks like the perfect place to warm my cold nose.’
‘You’ve been spending too much time with your dogs. Come on, how?’
‘Seriously,’ he said, ‘I’d attack their body and their mind simultaneously. I’d find out what they were afraid of and then feed their fears.’
‘How?’ I said.
He gave his head a funny, sideways shake. ‘Blimey, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Give me a minute to think about it. OK, let’s say they’re afraid of spiders. I’d fill their houses with them, every night. Get them permanently on edge.’
‘And their bodies?’
‘Sleep and food deprivation would work fastest, but quite how you do it without making it obvious I don’t know. Pain would also be pretty effective. Dealing with severe pain on a regular basis is a lot for anyone to cope with. Lots of suicides have major pain issues.’
‘If someone has found a way to do this, anonymously …’
Nick pushed himself back from the table. ‘Laura, what are you getting into?’ he asked me. ‘You’ve only been here a week. You have a huge amount of catching up to do. If you end up blowing your chance here because Evi has dragged you into some hare-brained scheme …’
‘Evi isn’t an idiot,’ I said, and I was actually a bit annoyed that he didn’t seem to be taking me seriously.
‘I know she’s not. And, if you must know, I’m going to bring this up tomorrow morning at our partners’ meeting. If I can get their support, we can make a joint approach to the university and the police. I also happen to
