One in Three: the new addictive, twisty suspense with a twist you won’t see coming!

by Tess Stimson

  ‘I’ve given him some pain relief,’ she says. ‘I promise you, I won’t let him suffer.’

  Tolly lays his head on the table next to Bagpuss, tenderly stroking his ears, and my heart twists with anguish. ‘Is he going to be OK now?’

  ‘I’m afraid all we can do is wait,’ the vet says, gently ruffling Tolly’s hair. ‘You all did everything you could getting him to me so quickly. And well done, Bella, for bringing in the towel. We’ll get his blood tested, but I’m pretty certain it’s ethylene glycol poisoning – antifreeze.’

  I have to steel myself not to cry, as I watch my two children wrap their arms protectively around their beloved cat. Despite Tamzin’s best efforts, I know the chances he’ll make it are slim.

  I can’t fathom how anyone could deliberately inflict such suffering on an innocent animal. But if some sick person is deliberately going around poisoning cats with antifreeze, why on earth would they go to so much trouble as to come out here? We live at the end of a remote lane; the only person anywhere near us is Gavin, the farmer opposite me, and I don’t believe even he would be so wicked as to kill our cat. It doesn’t make any sense.

  And then I suddenly remember the topaz-coloured earring sitting in my soap dish at home.

  ELISE MAHONEY

  PART 1 OF RECORDED INTERVIEW

  Date:- 29/07/2020

  Duration:- 36 Minutes

  Location:- 17 Felden Road, London SW6

  Conducted by Officers from Devon & Cornwall Police

  (cont.)

  POLICE

  So you live next door but one to Mr and Mrs Page, is that correct?

  EM

  Should I have said something before? I should, shouldn’t I? It’s just … I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble.

  POLICE

  No worries, Mrs Mahoney, that’s totally fine. We—

  EM

  It’s just so awful. We couldn’t believe it when we saw it on the news. He was such a lovely man, always stopped and said hello if he saw you in the street. People don’t do that these days, do they? Not in London, anyway. Everyone’s always in such a rush. But Mr Page always stopped for a chat.

  POLICE

  There’s no way you could have known what’d happen, Mrs Mahoney.

  EM

  Was it the wife? It’s always the husband or wife, isn’t it?

  POLICE

  Perhaps we could start by—

  EM

  Those poor children, losing their dad like that. It’s just so sad.

  POLICE

  Mrs Mahoney, if we could go over the events of the night of the tenth of July. You were at home here with your husband?

  EM

  The tenth of July?

  POLICE

  The night of the altercation.

  EM

  Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ve got a terrible memory for dates. But I’m great with numbers – you ask me a phone number, I can tell you, like a walking Yellow Pages, Ernie says. Never needs to go on that Google thing, he just has to ask me: Elise, you got the number for the dentist? And I can reel it off. But—

  POLICE

  So sorry to interrupt, Mrs Mahoney. I just want to clarify, you told one of my officers on the phone you were at home that evening with your husband, and you witnessed the argument between Caroline Page and Louise Page?

  EM

  I know it probably doesn’t matter, but I just thought I should let you know, when I heard what happened to Mr Page.

  POLICE

  No, I’m really glad you called us; it helps us to build a picture of what happened in the days leading up. Can you remember what time it was when you heard shouting?

  EM

  Well, we’d just turned off the TV, else we might not have heard it. We used to stay up for News at Ten, till they started moving it about. We used to set our watches by News at Ten. Alastair Burnet and Sandy Gall. You’re probably too young to remember them, aren’t you?

  POLICE

  Sorry.

  EM

  And Trevor McDonald. We liked him. Such an educated man.

  POLICE

  So it was after News at Ten? About ten-thirty, then?

  EM

  Oh, no. We don’t watch it anymore, I told you, they kept moving it. News at ten-thirty, news at nine, news at eleven. To-ing and froing. News at when, we called it. We tried the BBC news, but it’s too much for us, all that bad news before you go to bed. Gives Ernie nightmares. So we don’t anymore.

  POLICE

  Don’t what?

  EM

  Watch the news.

  POLICE

  I see. I’m sorry, you’ve lost me here.

  EM

  Oh, yes, sorry, Ernie says I go on. We usually go up, that’s what you mean, we go up to bed about eleven, I’d say. I don’t sleep if we go to bed any earlier.

  POLICE

  And that’s when you heard shouting?

  EM

  It was that other woman, mainly, Mr Page’s first wife. Louise, is it? I’ve seen her here a few times before, dropping off the children. Shouting the place down, she was. But then Mrs Page, the young Mrs Page, got upset too, understandable, really, started shouting back. The two of them were going at it hammer and tongs. We didn’t know what to do. Ernie said, she’s on her own, we should go round there – the young Mrs Page, that is – but we didn’t want to interfere, you know. And then the other one, she starts saying all these terrible things, making threats.

  POLICE

  What sort of threats?

  EM

  [Pause.] It was all a bit horrible, actually.

  POLICE

  I realise this is upsetting, Mrs Mahoney, but anything you can tell us might be helpful.

  EM

  Well, we’d gone outside, just, you know, to see if we could do anything. And we saw Mrs Page, Louise Page, get something out of the car—

  POLICE

  Did you see what it was?

  EM

  No, it was wrapped in one of those black bin liners. She sort of shoved it at the young Mrs Page, right in her face. She said, let’s see how you feel when it’s someone you love.

  POLICE

  ‘Let’s see how you feel when it’s someone you love?’ That’s what she said?

  EM

  Something like that, words to that effect, yes. And that’s when the young Mrs Page ran back inside, and then not long after, the police came.

  POLICE

  We have a report of the incident from Caroline Page, but she didn’t mention any specific threats.

  EM

  She was very upset. Maybe she didn’t remember exactly. It just stuck in my mind. Such a terrible thing to say. Ernie and I lost our son fourteen years ago in a motorbike accident. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not my worst enemy, losing someone you love.

  POLICE

  I’m so sorry for your loss.

  EM

  Thank you.

  POLICE

  [Pause.] So you took it to be a threat, then, what Louise Page said?

  EM

  Well, I didn’t think she’d actually do anything at the time. But then poor Mr Page was killed, and I thought, it’s come true. That lovely girl just lost someone she loved, didn’t she?

  Chapter 25

  Caz

  I press my back against the front door, as if it might splinter inward at any second. I only just got it shut in time; another moment, and Louise would’ve been in the house.

  Panic sweeps through me as I fumble with the security chain, my spine prickling. I wouldn’t put it past her literally to stab me in the back. I’ve never seen her like this before. It’s as if she’s possessed. I know her history, I know what she’s capable of, but until this moment, I never really understood it.

  The letter box flaps, and I see the tips of her fingers groping the air. ‘You fucking murderous bitch!’ Louise shrieks. ‘Come back out and face me!’

  I reach for the phone in my back pocket. The police should be here any minute,
but I’m terrified she’s going to get into the house before then. Louise knew Andy wouldn’t be here, of course; he presents the late bulletin these days, and doesn’t get off-air until eleven p.m. ‘Go home, Louise,’ I say shakily. ‘I didn’t touch your cat. I haven’t been anywhere near him!’

  ‘Liar!’

  ‘I’ve called the police,’ I cry. ‘Go home, or they’ll arrest you!’

  ‘Like I give a shit!’ she yells. ‘You’ll be the one going to jail, when they find out what you’ve done!’

  Kit suddenly appears at the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘Mummy, what’s the big noise?’

  ‘Ssssh, it’s OK,’ I say, forcing a weak smile. ‘Go back to bed, darling. It’s just some silly people in the street. Mummy will be up in a minute to tuck you in.’

  ‘Can I have a drink of water?’

  ‘I’ll bring one up. Go on, back to bed with you now.’

  The pounding suddenly stops. I run into the sitting room and peer through the curtain, trying to see what she’s doing now. There’s no way in through the rear of the house; these terraced properties are all back-to-back with other homes. But I can’t stop her pouring petrol or something through the letter box. I bolt back to the stairs, and sit a couple of steps from the bottom, guarding my son. Let’s see how you feel when it’s someone you love. What if she tries to hurt Kit? She’s crazy enough to do it.

  I press the knuckles of my hand into my mouth so he doesn’t hear me crying. This has been the worst day of my life. A final warning from Patrick, pending an investigation into the Vine debacle, and now this. How can Louise seriously think I’d kill her cat, just to get at her? I know she hates me, but what kind of person does she think I am?

  The house is eerily quiet. I tense, waiting for the sound of breaking glass, for Louise to smash her way in. How long is it going to take for the police to get here? It feels like hours since I called them. Louise’s shouting probably woke the entire street. Someone else must have rung the police as well as me. It can’t take them much longer, surely?

  The doorbell rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin. ‘It’s the police,’ a man’s voice calls. ‘Is everything all right in there?’

  They do a full search of the area when I tell them what’s happened. But Louise is nowhere to be seen. Her car has gone, and if it weren’t for the empty black plastic bin liner caught on the railing outside our house, I could almost believe I’d imagined the whole thing.

  I can tell the two officers are wondering the same themselves. They’re both men, one in his mid-thirties, the other about ten years older, and I’m sure they think I’m just hysterical. But I can still see Louise thrusting the dead cat at me, its head lolling sickeningly out of the bin liner. I can still hear the sickening thump as it hit the doorstep when she flung it at me. Bile rises in my throat again as I describe it.

  They take notes, but even if they do believe me, there’s nothing they can do. I didn’t really expect anything else, though at least their appearance seems to have driven her away. And the incident is on the record. If she keeps it up, the officers say, I can pursue her for stalking and harassment. They don’t add, though I see it written on their faces: For all the good it’ll do you.

  I’m still trembling when Andy arrives home close to midnight, just as the police are leaving. ‘What on earth’s happened?’ he exclaims, shocked to see the two officers. ‘Is everything all right? Is Kit OK?’

  ‘We had a report of a disturbance,’ the older policeman says heavily. ‘Your wife was very distressed. She says your ex-wife turned up on the doorstep with a dead cat.’

  To my astonishment, Andy laughs. ‘That’s why you’re here? I thought something terrible had happened!’

  ‘Andy!’

  He ignores me, speaking over my head to the two officers. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s all a misunderstanding. I’ve already spoken to my wife. Our family pet just died, and she was very upset. She brought him here so I could say goodbye to him. I’m afraid Caz got the wrong end of the stick and overreacted.’

  ‘Your ex-wife,’ I snap, before I can stop myself.

  I see the officers exchange a look with Andy. They don’t quite eye-roll, but it’s close.

  ‘You weren’t here!’ I protest. ‘She was going crazy, threatening me—’

  The older policeman’s expression changes. ‘What do you mean, threatening you, madam?’

  ‘She said, “Let’s see how you feel when it’s someone you love.” It was the way she said it, Andy, like she really meant it. It gave me chills. And then she threw the dead cat at me. It was horrible!’

  ‘She was upset,’ Andy says tersely.

  ‘She drove sixty miles in the middle of the night with a dead cat on the passenger seat!’ I exclaim. ‘Andy, that’s not normal behaviour, no matter how upset she is. She was ranting and raving in the street for an hour like she was having a psychotic episode!’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry we wasted your time,’ Andy says tightly to the two men. ‘This is clearly part of an ongoing domestic dispute, and we should never have troubled you. I do apologise.’

  ‘No need,’ the older policeman says. ‘Better safe than sorry.’

  They return to their vehicle, and I hear laughter on the air. I doubt they’ll even file a report. Once again, Louise has got away with it.

  ‘What were you thinking, calling the police?’ Andy demands, as soon as the front door shuts. ‘She loved that cat almost as much as the kids did. So did I, come to that. She wanted to let me say goodbye to him, and you call the police on her!’

  ‘You weren’t here,’ I say furiously. ‘She was pounding on the door like a lunatic! She really scared me, Andy!’

  He pours himself a hefty measure of Scotch from the cabinet in the sitting room. ‘You’re blowing this way out of proportion. What do you think she was threatening to do? Hurt Kit? Hurt me?’

  Put like that, it does sound ridiculous. But I saw her face when she threw the cat at me. I wouldn’t put it past her to do anything, strike at anyone, to get at me.

  ‘This thing between you two has gone far enough,’ Andy says brusquely. ‘I should never have let you talk me into taking her back to court. I’m calling the lawyer in the morning to tell him to back off. Lou was out of order taking the job at Whitefish, and I’ve told her that, but accusing her of assaulting you with a dead cat and calling the police?’ His expression is stony and unforgiving. ‘You and Louise need to bury the hatchet, and preferably not in each other’s backs.’

  ‘Andy—’

  ‘Enough, Caz. I’ve had a long day. I really don’t want to hear it.’

  He throws himself onto the sofa, leaning his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes, terminating the conversation. There’s no point trying to get him to understand. He knows what Louise is capable of, but he simply refuses to see it.

  I’m suddenly filled with cold, hard fury. He’s so goddamn weak. I always thought he had such a strong personality, but as I look at him now, I recognise he is no more than a skilled chameleon, reflecting the image of the beholder, perfectly designed for the shallow medium of television. All men to all people, and none of it real.

  How can I have lived with this man for more than four years, and not seen it? He should be holding the line with me against Louise, and instead, he refuses to choose sides because he still wants her to love him, whether or not he loves her. He seems suddenly insubstantial and two-dimensional, no more than a cypher for the battle playing out between Louise and me.

  My mother was right; Andy is almost incidental now. Whether we like it or not, Louise and I are locked in mortal combat, tied to each other by something that goes far deeper than our connection to Andy. A duel to the death, my mother called it. I’m beginning to think she’s right.

  Chapter 26

  Louise

  I’m a journalist. Finding people is what I do.

  I peer through the rain-spotted windscreen at the rundown red-brick building across the road. Mos
t people aren’t difficult to track down, once you start digging. These days, it’s almost impossible not to leave a virtual trail unless you make a serious effort to go off-grid. Social media, public records: it’s all there, just a click away. And what you can’t find online is usually easy to ferret out with a few phone calls. I never go through a press office – they’re always far too wary – but if you talk to the real gatekeepers, the administrators and secretaries and switchboard operators, it’s amazing how far good manners can take you. Sometimes I have to stretch the truth a little, mainly through omission; people make assumptions, and I don’t bother to correct them. But I don’t even have to tell a little white lie to find Caz’s mother. The staffing manager at her care home gives me all the information I need over the phone, without even asking who I am.

  I collect my bag from the passenger seat and get out of the car. I’m done with sitting at home waiting to see where Caz is going to strike next. If I’d fought fire with fire earlier, maybe Bagpuss wouldn’t be dead now.

  Killing a cat isn’t the revenge of a jealous woman. Taking my daughter to get her tongue pierced, having me fired – those were spiteful and unpleasant, but the kind of thing many women might do, given sufficient provocation. What Caz did to Bagpuss is psychopathic. I’m terrified of what she might do next, to the children or me. I need to know exactly what it is I’m dealing with. I don’t expect a smoking gun, but I’ve been a reporter for a long time. I know there is something more to Caz’s story, something in her background I need to find out.

  What frightens me most is the hold Caz seems to have on Bella. I thought my daughter wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her after Bagpuss, but she simply refuses to believe Caz was involved. Perhaps I went about it the wrong way, racing up to London to confront Caz last week, but I was too angry and upset to think strategically.