The Love Trap: an unputdownable psychological thriller

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The Love Trap: an unputdownable psychological thriller Page 16

by Caroline Goldsworthy


  It was only a short drive to Stephanie’s flat and we had no difficulty in procuring access to the floor where she lived. I banged hard on the door. What was I going to say to her after our last conversation?

  I stood back and a uniformed officer took over. His fist thumped louder than mine and he bellowed ‘Police! Open up!’ more loudly than I could as well.

  After a few minutes, we gave up. There was no letter box to peer through but all the same there was an unmistakable smell which filtered through the gaps around the wooden door. I pounded on the door, hoping it would give way to my bare fists. Someone or something was dead in there. I kicked the door. growing frantic wondering what else Stephanie had withheld from me in our after-work chats. I called DI Blaine.

  ‘Stand by,’ she said. ‘I’ll send over a dog team with a big red key.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I replied and I paced the hallway as we waited.

  The cadaver dog arrived, sniffed around the front door then laid by it, there was no longer any doubt about what we would find in the flat. The dog handler pulled her dog out of harm’s way and a burly PC took the enforcer battering ram and swung it against the door lock. A well timed swing of the red key always had a spectacular effect and this time was no different. The lock stayed in the door frame but the door itself smashed against the hallway wall.

  The smell was stronger now. Completely ignoring all protocol and the shouts of my colleagues, I rushed in. Despite knowing DI Blaine would take me off the case, I raced into Stephanie’s flat. However unlikely it was, I wanted to make sure Stephanie was alive. But I was too late; she was dead. I found her slumped against her kitchen cabinets, eyes, and tongue protruding. The colour of her skin and her glazed eyes left no possibility of resuscitation. Holding back hot, angry tears, I called DI Blaine again and she arranged for the forensics team to be dispatched.

  Later, the team cleared enough of the scene to allow me back in. This time I was dressed head to toe in white paper clothing, designed to protect the scene, not me. Stephanie was now a victim. There is little dignity in death and none in a violent death. I only hoped DI Blaine would allow me to stay on the case. Rushing in like an idiot would be reported and I wasn’t going to lie about my personal friendship with Stephanie Silcott. But I would find her killer. I owed her that much.

  One of the CSIs approached me and showed me a phone in an evidence bag. I had seen a phone just like it only a few hours before.

  There was no doubt in my mind; it was Lily Gundersen’s phone.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Lily

  Sally took me home in a taxi. I didn’t invite her in, telling her I was exhausted and that I thought I needed a nap. I hadn’t told her about the cameras and Topher spying on my every move. I knew I should have mentioned it before but I was too ashamed.

  I took a shower and went to lie down in the guest room. I felt safer there. I’d not slept in the master bedroom since the weekend. I’d had to go in there to change the sheets, of course. Topher insisted – calling me a slattern for leaving dirty sheets on the bed.

  That was the only time he’d spoken to me, which meant he could make no mention of my returning to the marital bed. I was glad I had thought to lock the guest room door last night. He rattled at the door but not too loudly in case he woke the children.

  It was dark when I woke. I smelt dinner cooking and I looked at my phone. Damn, it’s nearly six o’clock. Topher’s meal! The children! I dressed rapidly and ran downstairs.

  Heather was cooking. The children were in the garden room, playing. It was very tranquil.

  ‘Thank you for staying,’ I told her.

  ‘I thought you might need the rest,’ she said, ‘but if you don’t mind, I’ll be off now. There’s a casserole in the oven. Dumplings are in the fridge. They’ll need to go in at a quarter to seven. Then you can put the spuds on. Veggies are all prepped and in pans there.’

  I look to where she pointed – carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, and the potatoes were all ready to cook.

  ‘I’ve made you late home,’ I said, but she just smiled.

  ‘We’ll have something out of the freezer tonight,’ she replied. ‘We often do on weeknights. I like to cook extra and freeze it for nights when I’m tired. Or late.’

  ‘Topher insists on fresh every day,’ I muttered. I said it mostly to myself, but Heather nodded as if she had heard me. I checked my phone, but there was nothing. I decided to call Sally when Heather had gone and see if she’d heard anything.

  Heather kissed the children goodbye and let herself out. At once the children began to grizzle and I told them it was bath and story time.

  ‘But it’s too early,’ James complained.

  ‘Daddy will be home soon. Perhaps he can read you a story if you’re both bathed and ready?’ As I said his name, I heard Topher’s key in the door. The children rushed upstairs, I put my phone on the dresser and waited to greet him. I knew that regardless of our current mood with each other, it would be expected.

  ‘Hello,’ I said as he strolled into the kitchen. He didn’t even look at me. He went to the cupboard, took out a glass and poured himself a vodka. I decided to follow the children upstairs.

  After they were bathed and in bed, Topher arrived for story time. I rinsed out the bath and returned to the meal Heather had prepared. Dumplings in the casserole, potatoes on the hob and I went to set the table in the dining room. It was a rather grand name for the small room off the sitting room but, along with a freshly prepared meal, Topher liked to sit down and eat in style. The only time the children joined us, was at the weekends, when we had a formal Sunday lunch.

  I put the vegetables on the hob and lit the gas, before going upstairs to kiss the children goodnight. Topher rose and walked from James’ room without speaking to me. I could only hope he approved of the wine I set on the table.

  He did it seemed. When I returned downstairs, he’d opened the bottle and the wine was breathing. Unbidden Stephanie’s voice came into my head.

  Breathe? Sod that, she would say. I can give it mouth to mouth resuss!

  I smiled at the memory, wondering where she had got to.

  I brought dinner in from the kitchen and we served ourselves at the dining table. This only happened when Topher was giving me the silent treatment, otherwise I dished up his food for him. The casserole was delicious, but it was as dry as ashes in my mouth as all my thoughts were on Stephanie.

  I jumped when the doorbell pealed, immediately followed by a fist pounding on the glass panels. The cacophony ripped through the silence at our dinner table. In an instant I was on my feet, racing for the door. Topher yelled at me to calm down and insisted I stay in my chair. I heard his footsteps thudding on the parquet behind me.

  ‘Stop telling me what to do,’ I yelled.

  I didn’t care. I was sick of his orders and, I needed to know where Stephanie was.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Lily

  I wrenched the door open and Denise stood there with a uniformed police officer.

  ‘I’m sorry Lily,’ she said. And the uniformed officer took my elbow, pulling me down the steps. I half expected him to snap cuffs on my wrists.

  ‘Lily Gundersen,’ Denise intoned. ‘I’d like you to attend a voluntary interview at the station with regard to the murder of Stephanie Silcott…’

  I didn’t hear the rest of the caution. The police constable was distracted by a roar from Topher as he moved forward to snatch me back. The PC pushed me behind him, but I dropped to the floor. The officer raised his arms to defend himself from this unexpected attack, pushing Topher backwards. My husband’s rescue attempt was stalled, and he collapsed, panting, against the front door.

  He coughed and suddenly seemed to regain his composure. He rose slowly and I heard him ask where I was being taken.

  The look of shock on his face was either award-winning or he was stunned I was being interviewed. ‘I’ll get you a solicitor,’ he said. ‘Don’t speak to anyone until you hav
e a solicitor there. Do you understand, Lily? Speak to no one until you have a solicitor!’

  I was too shocked to take everything in. I was shoved into the back of the police car and taken to the station where I had entered voluntarily only a few hours earlier. We drove through the open gates at the side of the station and I was ushered into what I learnt later was a custody suite. There was a police sergeant there who explained everything that was happening. He repeated what DC Jones had said when I told him I didn’t understand why I was there and repeated my reasons for being there.

  Finally the cogs in my brain began to whir and I caught up. ‘Stephanie’s dead?’ I asked. ‘Since when? What’s happened?’

  ‘We’ll be asking the questions Mrs Gundersen,’ Denise snapped at me. It seemed unlike any manner in which she had spoken to me until now. Even after the accident when she questioned me she came across as warm and understanding, but perhaps that was Stephanie’s influence. Now it was as if that woman had been her twin and currently I was faced with the evil sibling.

  I endured the indignities of being placed in a cell. The desk sergeant told me there was nowhere else to put me for the time being. ‘What about my phone call?’ I asked. ‘I want to call a solicitor.’

  ‘Isn’t your husband doing that for you?’ Denise hissed at me.

  She was so close her spittle flecked my face and I flinched. ‘I think after our earlier conversation, you’d understand why I don’t want anyone my husband could arrange for me,’ I retorted. Finally my brain was starting to catch up. I felt more confident, and straightened my sagging shoulders. Despite my dire situation, I was preparing to stand up for myself.

  When it came to it however, I couldn’t remember Sally’s mobile number but Denise, calmer now, reminded me she still had Sally’s contact details from earlier in the day. A female police officer took me to the cell. I was told to remove my shoes before I entered, even though they were only my slippers. I hesitated on the threshold until I was pushed into the room. It smelt of disinfectant with an undercurrent of stale urine and sweat. I edged towards the bench with its blue plastic covered mattress. I sat, pulled my knees to my chest and, dry-eyed, I waited.

  I didn’t know how long I waited but when the door opened I had fallen asleep and was laying on the disgusting mattress. I felt the imprint of it on my face and tried not to think about the grime and germs I’d picked up.

  The desk sergeant told me that I could make a call, but it had to be on speakerphone, and he would be listening in.

  Eventually I heard Sally’s voice.

  ‘Sally,’ I sobbed at her. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. ‘Stephanie’s dead.’

  ‘What? How?’ she said.

  I shook my head. I didn’t know the answers. ‘Can you get me a solicitor? I was seeing a Cerys Quick, but I’m not sure if I should call her or not. They want to talk to be about Stephanie’s murder.’ I told her. ‘Obviously, I don’t want anyone who Topher knows.’

  ‘I understand,’ she replied. ‘Now you let me talk to the custody sergeant. Leave it with me, Lily. It’ll be fine.’

  I nodded, hoping she was right. The phone was taken from me. As I was led away, I heard the sergeant telling Sally what I had been arrested for and where I was being held. I can only hope she could find Cerys or someone else for me soon.

  Sally was a miracle worker. Within an hour, Cerys Quick, was with me and I outlined my current predicament. I told her everything and she cleared up a few of my questions.

  ‘I’m confused about my phone, I told her. ‘I’ve had it with me all day today. I called Sally earlier and I showed Denise, DC Jones the text I received from Stephanie. How can it have been found in her flat? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Where’s your phone now?’ she said.

  ‘At home. It’ll be in the kitchen. I leave it in there when we eat. Topher doesn’t like the phones at the table. He thinks it stops proper conversation.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘The police will have applied for a search warrant and your house will be being searched now. If the phone is there, they will find it. Try not to worry. We’ll have all this cleared up in no time.’

  ‘And if we don’t?’ I said. ‘What happens then?’

  ‘The problem is that since they haven’t arrested you, this can drag on. With an arrest the police must charge you within twenty-four hours. Then we’d go to the Magistrate’s Court and ask for bail.’

  ‘So, I’m free to go? They put me in a cell, Cerys!’

  ‘Technically, yes you’re free to go, but that may be the point at which they decide to arrest you. I’ll talk to the custody sergeant; you shouldn’t have been put in a cell. I suggest you answer their questions as best you can and hopefully, we’ll be out of here soon.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Lily

  After the talk with Cerys, I was returned to a room in the custody suite to await the interview. I stared at the wall as tears rolled down my face. I couldn’t sit still and began to pace, berating myself for the mess I was in. It’s all your fault that Stephanie’s dead, I told myself. You’re was as guilty as if you’d killed her. I sobbed, hoping she’d not suffered too much. That she’d not been scared. But, knowing what Topher was capable of, I knew she would have been terrified.

  In handcuffs I was shown into the interview room once more.

  ‘Why is my client in cuffs?’ Cerys protested. ‘She’s not under arrest, is she? Or is there something you’ve not told me?’

  DI Blaine considered for a moment and then agreed the handcuffs could be removed. ‘We thought she might be a danger to the officers in the custody suite,’ she muttered.

  ‘That’s nonsense, DI Blaine,’ said Cerys, ‘and you know it.’

  I sat and rubbed my wrists watching the two women glower at each other. Denise proceeded with a reminder of why I was there, the recording and took me through the preliminary questions.

  ‘When did you last see, Ms Silcott?’

  ‘A week ago. We’d had a party at the weekend and she came to collect a dish she’d loaned me.’ When had I learned to lie so well, I wondered, but I knew it had long been my best means of survival.

  ‘Not to drop anything off then?’ Asked DI Blaine.

  I shook my head. I was too scared to mention the keys Stephanie copied for me.

  ‘For the tape please, Mrs Gundersen.’

  ‘No, just to collect the dish.’

  ‘Seems an odd time of day to do that. Wouldn’t it have been easier in the evening?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘She may have needed the dish for the evening.’

  ‘Indeed.’ DI Blaine looked at her notes and Denise slid a plastic bag across the table.

  ‘Do you recognise this, Mrs Gundersen?’

  ‘You know I do. It’s my phone,’ I replied, trying hard to hold back a cry of anguish. I glanced from Cerys to Denise and back again. ‘But it can’t be. You know I had mine earlier today. I showed you the text from Stephanie.’

  ‘Where was this phone found?’ Cerys interrupted.

  ‘We’ll come to that,’ DI Blaine snapped. ‘Where were you between 7pm on Friday 8th November and 11am on Saturday 9th November?’

  ‘I was at home with my children. My husband came home early Saturday morning. He’d been away at a conference, but he decided to come home. He said he was missing me and the children.’

  ‘After only a few hours? He must be a very devoted husband,’ Anita Blaine remarked. Her mouth twisted into a smirk. She knew my husband was having an affair, and I surmised she had formed an idea of what my husband was like. If only she knew the whole truth.

  ‘No comment,’ I said. This earned me a frown from DI Blaine.

  ‘You have no witnesses to being at home all Friday evening,’ she said.

  I wasn’t sure if this was a question or a statement. ‘I was with my children,’ I repeated. ‘I did not leave my home. I exchanged texts with Stephanie around 11pm telling me there were cameras
everywhere. I texted her back but that was the last I heard from her. I went to bed after midnight and my husband came home shortly after.’

  ‘What did you understand Ms Silcott meant by her text?’

  I was tempted to reply, I had no idea, but with what I’d revealed to Sally, Denise, and Cerys during the course of the last few hours it made no sense to lie or cover up for Topher. ‘My husband spies on me. He uses cameras to trace my every movement in the house. Surely those are my witnesses to being home all Friday evening!’ I sighed. ‘I’ve tried to leave him a few times, but he’s always found me and made me pay. You can check my medical history. He’s often taken me to different Accident and Emergency hospitals. My divorce lawyer has tracked all of those down.’ I glanced at Cerys. ‘Can you share those with the police for me?’

  She dipped her head, making notes on her pad.

  ‘Stephanie was getting close to him to help find the evidence that he was gaslighting me. As it turned out we both found out that my house was full of cameras. At the same time. Earlier in the evening I had searched my husband’s office for evidence that he was trying to make me go mad. I found it. I printed off an online journal he’s been keeping. But that print out is in my home. Topher will have destroyed it by now.’

  ‘Your husband leaves his office unlocked?’ Denise sounded incredulous.

  ‘No, there’s a spare key. I kept it in the house, behind a framed certificate. Although if Topher has been watching me he will have removed it by now.’ I told them which certificate and Denise scratched notes on a sheet of paper. She handed this to the uniformed officer by the door who left. Clasping my hands in front of me, I hung my head. Search warrant or not I couldn’t imagine Topher was happy that the police were searching the house.

  ‘That seems an odd place to keep a spare key,’ she said mildly.

 

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