The Love Trap: an unputdownable psychological thriller

by Caroline Goldsworthy

  ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

  After she’d gone, I sat back in my chair and I think about the two vastly different pictures I’ve been given of the Gundersen marriage.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Lily

  I was working my way through more of Dad’s letters when Cerys called me. Denise Jones wanted another chat at the police station.

  ‘Am I obliged to do this, Cerys?’

  ‘She has some news she wants to share with us,’ Cerys said. ‘About the CCTV footage from June.’

  ‘Has she found it? After all this time?’

  ‘She has,’ said Cerys.

  ‘That’s great news. I’m on my way,’ I replied.

  Leaving the children with Dad I called a cab and arrived at the station to find Cerys and Denise waiting.

  Denise showed us into a side room. ‘I’ve been doing some more investigating,’ she said. ‘I found out some very interesting things.’

  ‘What would that be then?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve continued my investigations into your car accident.’

  ‘And you’ve found the CCTV?’ I was jittery. My stomach doing somersaults.

  ‘I have,’ she said. ‘And I’ve found out something else.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Would you be surprised to hear you hired the car which forced you off the road?’ She said.

  ‘Surprised? I’d be absolutely astounded,’ I replied. ‘How on earth did you work that out?’

  ‘Like I said I’ve been investigating. The technical guys found the list of names on your phone, they checked that against some calls made from a burner phone, which led me to someone well known to the police. He was able to supply me with the CCTV footage. I checked it out and I’ve seen the car pushing you off the road. Since then I’ve been to visit the car hire company.’ She sat back in her chair looking very pleased with herself. ‘Actually, I’ve got something to show you.’ She pulled a printout from her briefcase and pushed it across the table at me.

  I picked it up and scrutinised it.

  ‘Do you recognise the credit card number?’ She asked.

  ‘The last four digits look familiar,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘But I lost my credit card months ago. I haven’t dare tell Topher that I’ve lost it.’

  ‘Do you have any evidence of that?’ She put her head on one, side giving me the quizzical expression she used when she wasn’t sure if I was telling her the truth.

  ‘No, I can’t prove it,’ I said. ‘But if you look at the statements, you’ll see a period where spend has dropped. Until you come to the big payment which you’re now telling me was for the car hire.’

  I pushed the printout away from me, but then I remembered something. ‘What about the solicitors’ letter? I said. ‘There was a photo of it on my phone. Didn’t you find that?’

  ‘We found no such photo,’ she said.

  ‘But I found the envelopes in his study. The envelopes the letter arrived in. Topher must have written the letter to me.’ I realised now I should have taken one of the envelopes as evidence.

  ‘We didn’t find anything like that in his office.’

  I sighed loudly. ‘He must have destroyed them and wiped my phone. He’s clever, isn’t he?’

  ‘So, if I understand you correctly,’ Denise leaned forward her palms flat against the table. ‘You’re telling me that not only is your husband trying to make you go mad, but he’s trying to kill you too?’

  ‘Well it makes more sense than me hiring a car so somebody can push me off the road to kill me. Doesn’t it? There must be easier ways to kill myself,’ I retorted.

  ‘There are,’ said Denise nodding. ‘But suicide is one explanation.’

  ‘I would never leave my children alone with only their father to look after them.’ I said. ‘I think he paid someone to kill me. It’s not as if he hasn’t threatened me before.’

  Denise looked at me with a strange expression on her face. ‘Is that something you can prove?’

  ‘Have you checked his bank accounts?’ I said. ‘Large withdrawals and such like.’

  ‘Of course, we have, and there’s nothing suspicious.’

  ‘Have you checked his Danish bank account?’

  ‘Danish account?’ Denise was clearly startled.

  Yes,’ I said. ‘When his parents were killed all the money went into a bank account in Copenhagen. He came to live with an aunt in England. The house in Denmark was sold, then there was the insurance money, and I’m not sure what else. All his school fees, his university tuition and living expenses, even a lump sum for the house in Muswell Hill came from there. I don’t know if he still has the account or not.’ I spread my hands out palms uppermost and shrugged. I had forgotten about the Danish money.

  Chapter Sixty

  Denise

  Of course, everything Lily said to me made sense, but I couldn’t work on supposition. I decided to drop in on the technical team and catch Dan for a chat before I returned to the station.

  ‘DJ,’ he said. ‘Great to see you. Coffee?’

  ‘I couldn’t manage another one. I’m too wired,’ I said, pleased to notice that he’d dropped the formal DC Jones title.

  We have herbal teas,’ he said.

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ I told him.

  ‘Anyway, what are you doing here? Is there something I’ve forgotten to do?’

  I shook my head. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I have a question, an idea I’d like to run by you.’

  ‘Cool,’ Dan said. He passed me a mug of some foul-smelling concoction.

  I sniffed at it pulled a face. ‘What the hell is this?’ I asked.

  ‘Raspberry leaf tea,’ he said. ‘Dr Whitney was drinking it all the time before she went off on maternity leave. Is it any good?’

  ‘You try some,’ I told him. He leaned towards the mug and sniffed. My heart thumped and the hairs on my arms stood on end. What the hell was happening to me? If he got any closer, I’d no idea what I’d do. I thought back to my fateful pass at Stephanie and pulled away from him. Now was no time to work out my confused sexuality.

  ‘See what you mean,’ he said. He went back to the cupboard. ‘Let’s see what else we’ve got.’ He pulled packet after packet from the shelves. It was a surprising selection of herbal teas, presumably left behind by Dr Whitney before she left to have her baby. I selected one. Dan boiled the kettle again. And, armed with fresh decaffeinated tea we went to his office.

  ‘Sit yourself down,’ he said. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m not sure if you can help me,’ I began. ‘I don’t even know if this is possible.’

  ‘Come on spit it out.’

  ‘Okay, so, if I make a payment by credit card, how can I prove I am who I say I am?’

  ‘Well,’ Dan said, ‘there’s a number of checks and balances in place. First off there is the CVC number. That little three digit number on the back of the card. You’d need to have that, plus you need to have the start date and the end date as well.’

  ‘Yep so I’ve got all that. Is that it?’ I said.

  ‘No there are some more checks that the banks and credit card companies put in place. Such as the BIN number and the IP address.’

  ‘BIN? IP?’ I stared at him; eyebrows raised.

  ‘Yes,’ said Dan. ‘The BIN is the bank’s international number, so the company we’re shopping from checks with the bank. In turn the bank knows which country the card issuer is in and what country the payment is being made from. So if your bank account or your credit card is registered with a British bank and you’re making a payment from Uganda say or if you’re on holiday in Spain, the credit card company would know the payment was being made out of country. That’s why sometimes when making payments abroad you have to speak to the card company.’

  I nodded, ‘ and the IP address. What’s that all about?’

  ‘That’s the Internet Protocol address of the computer. Every device you use, has its own unique address. In
this situation the card issuer would know which computer was being used to register the payment and, if there was something iffy about it, then they’d decline payment.’

  ‘So I could go to the credit card company and ask them exactly which computer was used to make a payment?’ I said

  ‘If you’ve got all the details. Certainly. The bank should have no problem finding the information at all.’

  ‘Dan you’re an absolute star,’ I said. ‘I could kiss you.’

  ‘Steady on,’ he said, and he resumed his more familiar shade of vermilion.

  I got Dan to promise to email me the details of what he’d outlined so that I could explain it to DI Blaine when I returned to the station. There was no way I could do it from memory and get all the nuances right.

  He was as good as his word and when I got back to West Hampstead nick there was an email waiting.

  ‘Guv?’ I said. ‘I need to run something by you.’

  She looked at me over the top of her glasses; the action intimidated me as always. Did she do it on purpose, I wondered. ‘What is it?’ she said.

  I outlined everything that I had done in the last few days. I’d posted everything on the board to keep the whole team up to date, but I just wanted to reiterate and let her ask questions.

  When I came to the part about traceability of credit card transactions, I saw her eyes begin to glaze over, but she did allow me to ask for the warrant. It was quickly agreed, and I called the credit card company to make an appointment to see someone in their fraud department.

  It was a short meet as when I got there the fraud person had already looked up the transactions and gave me the IP address of the computer used.

  I checked my records and was disappointed to note the IP address matched that of Lily Gundersen’s laptop. Damn.

  It seemed as if I was never going to get a break in this case. I went to the kitchen and boiled the kettle for a cup of tea. I looked around at the mess but seeing it was my name on the roster to wash up I quickly scrubbed some mugs and wiped down the surfaces. As I rinsed out the dishcloth it suddenly occurred to me I should check Lily’s timetables.

  I ran back to my desk and found Lily’s teaching schedule. There it was: when the Range Rover hire transaction was taking place, Lily was teaching violin to a class of sixteen-year-olds. It looked as if she would have ample witnesses to her location. But surely her class plans would be on her laptop? Damn, one step forward and one step backwards.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Lily

  Cerys called me a few days after our meeting with DC Jones. It wasn’t good news. Denise had been able to confirm it was my laptop which had used in the transaction to hire the Range Rover.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘How can that be?’

  ‘It’s pretty technical,’ she said. ‘I’ll detail it all to you in an email.’

  ‘Can you send it in a letter,’ I said. ‘I’m still scared Topher can read all my emails. I’ll keep an eye out for the postman.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘The transaction took place in the week before your accident. According to your timetable you should have been teaching at that time. 30th May. Can you remember what you were doing that day? It was a Thursday.

  I closed my eyes, holding the phone against my face and sat with my head back. Think! Think, I whispered to myself. I steadied my breathing and took myself back to the week before the accident. The days blurred one into another. I remembered buying an antique desk set for Topher for our seventh anniversary. Was that the Wednesday or the Thursday? Then it came to me.

  ‘I took the day off,’ I said. ‘I went to find a present for Topher. I was browsing stalls in Portobello Road market.’

  ‘Would anyone remember you?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’ I thought back to that day. I had wandered down to the vintage clothing store, looking for something unusual. Wood or wool is the theme of a seventh anniversary. I’d found a silk smoking jacket, but it wasn’t quite right for a health nut like Topher. And it smelt of smoke. ‘I did have a long chat with the owner of the vintage clothes store about cleaning a silk jacket. But it’s such a long time ago I’m not sure she’d remember me. Then I walked back into the market. It was starting to rain, and the stall holders were packing up. That’s when I saw the perfect gift. It was an antique desk set. Wooden. With an old fountain pen and an inkwell. I chatted with the guy and I bought the desk set. He gave me a receipt, but it’s not time stamped.’

  ‘I’ll see if the police can find the receipt. It might have the stall holder’s name on it. Denise can certainly check the time it started raining. Tell me,’ Cerys paused, took a breath and said. ‘Does your husband have access to your laptop?’

  ‘Yes, he uses it all the time. He’d send emails to the school as if they were from me to say I was sick and wasn’t coming in. He’d cancel appointments and not tell me. He did it all the time.’ I said.

  ‘Didn’t it occur to you to change your password?’ Cerys sighed, as if changing my password was the most obvious and simplest thing in the world.

  I hung my head. ‘He didn’t like me doing that,’ I said. ‘He thought there should be no secrets between husband and wife.’

  ‘But you didn’t have the passwords to his computers?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. He said it was an entirely different situation. He had client confidentiality to think about.’

  ‘I see,’ Cerys said.

  But I knew she didn’t understand at all. I hardly understood it myself. Topher ruled my life; I was powerless to stop him.

  ‘Has Denise talked to Stephanie’s ex yet?’ I demanded.

  ‘No, not as far as I’m aware.’

  ‘He was still stalking her,’ I said. ‘Even after she took out the injunction.’

  ‘Okay, ‘ said Cerys. ‘I’ll call her when I leave here.’

  ‘And he was at the funeral. I bet he knows something. I’m sure it was him. He was staring at Topher. Glaring at him in fact.’

  Cerys assured me she’d tell Denise everything that I’d said. I bade her goodbye and replaced my mobile in my pocket.

  The post had arrived. Containing a letter from my mother It was not good news.

  Lillian, she wrote.

  I have been talking with Topher and we agree that with all this going on the children should stay with me for the time being. Topher tells me that James is very upset and has started wetting the bed again. Darcy is too young to know what’s going on but she’s upset too. Having your father in the house is only causing more upset.

  I cannot believe the stories you’re telling or even what drove you to kill Stephanie. I am astonished that you’ve not been arrested and put in prison. Topher tells me the police have all the evidence they need but are not acting upon it.

  I have told the police how difficult and depressed you were as a child and how depressed you were when you became pregnant. I know the accident with your fingers was a terrible thing to happen, but you still should have made more of an effort to cuddle James when he was a baby. I did what I could to make up for your shortcomings, but it should have been you. You’ve always been selfish and self-centred. I suppose that’s why you were so jealous of Stephanie.

  Topher also says you’re seeing some sort of psychoanalyst. I’m sure they’re telling you it’s all the fault of your upbringing. But I won’t have that. I was a good mother and have done nothing to deserve such an ungrateful child as you.

  I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.

  Best wishes,

  Mummy.

  I screwed the letter up into a ball and threw it in the bin. How dare Topher go behind my back and spin this tale to her. Mummy was right about the psychoanalyst, however. And now I was able to see my relationships with both of them so much more clearly.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Denise

  ‘Okay, thanks for letting me know, Cerys. Did you ask her about the laptop?’ I said. But the reply wasn’t what I’d hoped for. Knowi
ng that her husband had access to the laptop anytime he felt like it was good news. But it was the information about her taking a day off when she could have had a ton of alibis which wasn’t good. Finding the stall holder was going to take a lot of shoe leather but I could get uniform to track him down.

  I missed what Cerys said next. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Lily was asking if you’ve spoken with the ex-boyfriend yet?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘She thinks he was at the funeral and he was glaring at Topher. There might be nothing in it, but it feels like he may have information he’s not sharing. Lily said Stephanie still thought someone was stalking her.’

  ‘Damn, I did spot him at the funeral’ I said. ‘But Stephanie hadn’t mentioned to me it was still going on. I’d hoped he’d stopped, but because I’d warned him to leave her alone there’s no way he’d come forward now.’ I checked my file on John Maitland. I was on the point of calling him, when I decided that a surprise visit at his place of work might be more effective.

  I presented myself at the reception of Granville Insurance Brokers later that day. After a short wait, the manager presented herself and took me to her office.

  ‘How can I help you, DC Jones?’ she said.

  ‘I need to speak to one of your employees,’ I said. ‘A John Maitland. Is he not here today? I did ask for him.’

  ‘He went out for lunch, but I think he’s back now’ she said. I’ll get someone to fetch him. Will the staff area be okay for you to talk to him?’