by Jack Jordan
Lisa didn’t even blink. ‘Are you prone to outbursts of anger, Mr Hannah?’
‘I’m sorry, I …’ He looked at Marcus. ‘I didn’t do this. I’d never hurt anyone.’
‘Well right now, all we have is you, a man in a relationship with both victims of this crime, and your watch, which was found at the scene splattered with Josie’s blood. Not to mention your sexual history with the two murdered women.’
‘I slept with over a dozen women after my divorce.’
Marcus wondered what women saw in the man. Whatever charm he had, he had left it outside the interview room.
Dane snatched his hands from his lap and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
‘I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t even know what watch you’re talking about.’
Lisa pushed a photo across the table.
‘That is yours, isn’t it, Dane?’
‘I haven’t seen that watch in years.’ His solicitor coughed into her hand. ‘It might not even be mine. I’ve had one like it since I was a teen. We all had those kind of watches.’
Lisa sighed and looked down at her file.
‘Can you confirm this is a photo of you wearing said watch?’
‘Or a replica,’ his solicitor added.
Dane took the photo. It shivered in his grip. His pupils danced up and down the photo. He closed his eyes and nodded. Tears shimmered on his cheeks.
‘Odd that you don’t know where your watch is, isn’t it, Dane?’ Lisa said.
He looked at her. Fresh tears brewed in his eyes.
‘You’d do anything for Naomi, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and winced. He was beginning to understand Lisa’s tactics. ‘Within reason.’
‘Is it reasonable to kill her competition at her request?’
Dane bowed his head. ‘Of course not.’
‘Because I don’t believe Josie led Naomi into the woods. I believe it was the other way round.’
‘What?’ Dane shot her a look.
‘I believe Naomi asked you to wait for her in the woods, so that when she led Josie to you, you’d be there ready to get rid of her.’
‘That’s not true! Naomi would never hurt anyone.’
‘Then why can’t we find the cricket bat that Naomi claimed Josie threatened her with?’
Dane let the tears fall, too shocked to wipe them away.
‘Do you need a break?’ his solicitor asked.
‘Answer the question, Mr Hannah. Why doesn’t your story match up?’
‘I didn’t do this!’ He covered his face with his hands and muttered into his palms. ‘I didn’t … I didn’t …’ He sobbed, a sound so deep and torn that Marcus’s throat began to burn. Whenever he heard a man cry, he thought of his father, who had wept as he begged for forgiveness after a bottle of Scotch, his fists swollen from pummelling his son’s ribs. He pinched his thigh to bring him out of the memory and back into the room.
‘You didn’t have anything to do with Hayley Miller’s disappearance either, did you, Dane?’ Lisa said. ‘You’re just an innocent man who keeps being linked to crimes you didn’t commit.’ She leaned over the table, her words close to the top of Dane’s head. ‘Look at me.’
He looked up with bloodshot eyes.
‘You need to start telling the truth, Dane, or it’ll eat you alive.’
His lips twitched. A tear slipped down his cheek and onto the table. His solicitor cleared her throat.
‘My client and I need to talk alone.’
THIRTY-SIX
The solicitor smelt stale, as though his suit had been pulled out from the back of a wardrobe and patted down to beat off the dust. His breath had a sour tang to it when he spoke, even behind the sugary scent of the cough sweet that rolled around his mouth and clinked against his teeth.
‘I didn’t attack Josie,’ Naomi told him. ‘She tried to kill me.’
She sat in the chair with her hands clamped beneath her thighs to stop them from shaking. Her wrists still ached from where the handcuffs had gnawed at her skin and pulled at the hairs.
‘I believe you, but I’m not the person you need to convince. You must make the police believe you.’
‘I’ll tell them the truth.’
‘Let’s hope that works.’
‘Why wouldn’t it?’
‘The police can believe what they want to believe, just like a jury but with more rules to skirt around. Whatever you’re feeling, exaggerate it. Tears, pleas for justice, fear until you shake.’ He paused, as if looking at her quivering body and realising she was already there. ‘You need to rid them of any doubts they might have.’
‘But how can they have arrested me? Doesn’t that mean they have evidence?’
‘The circumstances might be all they need at this stage.’
A knock on the door. Naomi’s head shot towards the sound.
‘It’s all right, Ms Hannah. You’ll be all right.’
She felt his meaty hand pat her thigh. She quivered and moved her leg away from him.
‘Come in,’ the solicitor said.
Shoes scuffed against the floor. The door clicked shut. Two more mouths were breathing in the room.
‘Naomi,’ DI Lisa Elliott said. ‘I’m here with DS Marcus Campbell. We need to ask you some questions.’
Chair legs dragged against the floor.
How much of her could they see? Could they see that she was shaking? Could they see that her heart was pounding against her ribs?
‘Hi, Naomi,’ Marcus said.
Naomi nodded her head. She couldn’t trust herself to speak. Fear rattled through her body, but beneath it was a growing rage.
The tape recorder turned on with a click, and Lisa introduced everyone in the room.
‘Naomi, I’m going to cut to the chase,’ she said. ‘Your ex-husband’s watch was found in the woods, splattered with Josie’s blood.’
‘Dane?’
‘And how does that link my client to the crime?’ the solicitor said.
‘Given their relationship—’
‘You mean their past relationship?’
‘You’ve been sleeping together, haven’t you, Naomi?’ Lisa’s question was light, as if she needed a friend to refresh her memory, but it brought everyone’s attention to Naomi like flies landing on her skin.
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘My client said no.’
‘And I’m asking her again. Naomi, have you slept with Dane recently?’
The silence ate away at her. Her skin itched as everyone in the room waited for an answer. Her solicitor had told her that Dane was just across the corridor, locked in another room. She had no idea what he had told them.
‘Once.’
‘When?’
‘After I found the body.’
‘For the tape, Ms Hannah is referring to the discovery of the body of Amber O’Neill.’ Marcus’s tone was grave.
Do you believe me, Marcus?
‘So after you found the body,’ Lisa said, ‘you came home and slept with your ex-husband. Forgive me, Ms Hannah, but that sounds rather morbid, doesn’t it?’
‘I was distraught. I needed someone to—’
‘You don’t need to go any further,’ her solicitor said, and patted her thigh again. She had to stop herself from digging her fingernails into the back of his hand.
‘So you slept with Josie’s partner.’
‘My ex-husband, yes.’
‘Who is the love of Josie’s life.’
‘I don’t think judgements of that nature are necessary, Inspector Elliott.’
‘I’m simply getting a picture of what happened, Mr … Winer, is it?’ Lisa sighed, dismissing him. ‘So, Josie just turned up at your doorstep?’
‘Yes. She knocked on my door and pressed a cricket bat against my temple.’
‘We didn’t find a cricket bat at the crime scene.’
‘Well … the killer must have taken it. All you have to do is look at the bruises and
scratches all over my body.’
‘There are many ways someone can get injuries like those. Self-inflicted, even.’
‘Now’s not the time to speculate,’ the solicitor said.
‘Again, Mr Winer, I’m painting a picture.’
‘Well hurry. Because the paint is drying.’
A silence fell between them before Lisa spoke again.
‘Did you hate Josie for taking Dane away from you?’
‘She didn’t take him away. They began their relationship after the breakdown of our marriage.’
‘You’re awfully close for a divorced couple. Didn’t your ex-husband drop you off at work the day the brick came through the window?’
‘That happened once.’
‘A lot of things seemed to happen just the once.’
‘I’m telling the truth.’
‘So you didn’t hate Josie before the supposed attack?’
‘I didn’t know her. I hadn’t met her until the night in the woods.’
‘But you knew it was her, that night?’
‘Yes. She told me who she was before she attacked me.’
‘Why didn’t the person who tried to kill Josie attack you?’
‘He chased me through the woods until I hid.’
‘Your husband is obviously very fond of you.’
The question and the statement so close to one another made her realise what was going on.
‘You really think Dane and I did this together?’
‘It’s only a matter of time before Dane confesses.’
‘You think I helped him try to kill Josie?’
‘Did you?’
‘No!’
‘And what about Amber in the alley? You just happened to stumble across her body right after she was killed, and somehow lived to tell the tale?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly—’
‘Because I don’t believe that,’ Lisa interjected. ‘I don’t believe that a ruthless killer wouldn’t hurt you like he did the others. Two women are dead, and one is fighting for her life, and yet you’re still here and you can’t tell me why.’
The room fell silent. Naomi’s heartbeat echoed against the back of the chair.
‘Do you know what I think?’ Lisa said. ‘I think you and Dane were in on this together.’
‘Inspector Elliott—’ the solicitor said.
‘I think you manipulated Dane into attempting to kill Josie Callaghan so you could have him back.’
‘Inspector Elliott, this is really—’
‘I think you pretend to be helpless to hide the fact that you’re ruthless in getting your own way. You lured Josie into the woods that night so Dane could attack her. You stayed behind, injuring yourself and waiting until dawn so you could pretend that you too were a victim—’
‘Shut up!’ Naomi yelled, shooting up from her chair. ‘You’re making me out to be a monster, when all I’ve done is try to help you and tell you everything I know!’ She stood gripping the table, shaking uncontrollably. ‘I don’t deserve to be punished for stumbling across your colleague’s body. I don’t deserve to be blamed for the attack on Josie when she was the one who led me into the woods in the first place. The only thing I’ve done wrong is believe that you would help me, that you were on my side. My whole life I’ve let people walk all over me, control every aspect of my life, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you condemn me for crimes I haven’t committed!’
‘Naomi, sit down,’ her solicitor whispered. She felt his hand on her wrist.
‘Don’t touch me!’ she yelled, and snatched her hand away. ‘You should be ashamed. You’re nothing but a fraud. Once the truth is out, I will tell everyone I know that you’re the real monster here.’
A knock on the door broke through the tension in the room.
‘One moment, please,’ Lisa said. Her chair dragged across the floor and her footsteps made their way to the door.
‘For the purpose of the tape, DI Elliott has left the room momentarily.’
Naomi remained standing and noticed how much she was shaking. Lisa had been goading her so that she would snap, and she had given the detective exactly what she wanted. She sank into the chair and put her face in her hands.
The three of them sat in the room in silence, breathing in the hot recycled air. Naomi couldn’t get enough of it into her lungs. She could taste the men in the air and fought the urge to spit them back out.
‘There, there,’ the solicitor said, and tapped her thigh.
Naomi grabbed his hand and squeezed until her nails broke the skin.
‘Touch my leg again and I’ll break your fingers.’
The solicitor yanked his hand away, breathing quickly through his teeth in a hiss.
Naomi went numb. The tape had recorded it all, ready to use against her. And Marcus – would he think she was capable of the crime now? How much would it take to lose his trust? She wanted to defend herself, but all she was doing was digging herself a deeper grave.
The door clicked open and someone stepped into the room. The chair didn’t move; Lisa hadn’t sat back down. The person was standing close to Naomi, looming over her.
‘Ms Hannah, is there any reason why a kitchen knife would be missing from the knife block in your kitchen?’ Lisa sounded victorious.
‘No … No, of course not.’ A bead of sweat slid down Naomi’s face. Her throat tightened.
‘Because we’ve researched the brand of knives online. The knife that’s missing, the knife that can be found nowhere else in your home, is the exact size of the weapon that was used to attack Josie Callaghan.’
The sounds in the room began to blur; Naomi’s mind felt like it was spinning. Everything was wrong. So wrong.
‘Can you explain that for us please, Ms Hannah?’
‘I …’
I’m innocent. I haven’t done any of this. You’ve made a mistake.
‘No comment,’ she said suddenly, as no other words came to her.
Someone sighed at the table. She couldn’t have said anything more incriminating.
‘Hit a nerve, did we?’ Lisa asked, through what sounded like a smile.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Naomi woke up to the cold. The sound of her breathing echoed against the wall.
The sheet was stuck to her skin with the adhesive of dried sweat. She peeled herself away and sat up, feeling for the nightstand. There was nothing there but a hard wall. The sheet beneath her wasn’t cotton, but cold plastic. The wall wasn’t plastered, but made up of breeze blocks.
She wasn’t at home.
A shiver rushed through her. She prised herself off the bed and stood up. The floor was covered in a film of dirt and dust that stuck to her bare feet. The air smelt of stale sweat.
She pressed her hands against the wall and followed it around the room, feeling for a door, a window, anything that could tell her where she was. Anxious breaths bounced off the walls and warmed her face. Iron bars shielded the only window. She felt them in her palms, the cold paint that had flaked off in sharp peels.
She was in a prison cell.
Tears filled her eyes as she carried on around the room, feeling the cold walls, the sticky steel toilet without a lid, the locked door.
She backed away and stood in the centre of the room.
The clothes she was wearing weren’t her own: a large sweatshirt hung from her shoulders and bulged around her middle; a T-shirt was tucked into the waistband of loose sweatpants, balancing on her hip bones.
And slowly she began to remember.
Your ex-husband’s watch was found in the woods, splattered with Josie’s blood.
It’s only a matter of time before Dane confesses.
Is there any reason why a kitchen knife would be missing from the knife block in your kitchen?
She didn’t know how a knife could have gone missing. She couldn’t even recollect owning that knife. Each kitchen knife felt the same. Had she even noticed one was gone?
The only person she could think of wh
o would want to frame her for the crime was Josie, but she could hardly have cut her own throat in the woods and chased her between the trees. Someone else was involved.
‘I’m … I’m innocent …’ Naomi approached the door with her hands in front of her, and only stopped when she felt the cold metal. ‘I’m innocent! I’M INNOCENT!’ She screamed the words, thrashed her fists against the door until they throbbed. She had been accused of a crime she hadn’t committed. With each blow she imagined the door was the inspector’s face. She banged and yelled until her voice cracked, then slowly lowered her hands to her waist, holding herself tight as fear seeped in. No one believed her. To lock her away like this, they had to believe she was guilty. Everything she had done to prove her innocence had worked against her.
She stumbled blindly back to the bed and crawled up onto the mattress until she was tucked into the corner of the room in a foetal position.
‘They won’t get away with this,’ she whispered to herself. ‘They won’t.’
She had very few memories of her birth mother, but one had stayed firmly in her mind. Her mother had told her never to trust the police. It don’t matter if you’re right and they’re wrong. You’re black and they’re white. That’s all that matters to them. If something goes wrong, you deal with it yourself. Don’t go crying to them, or they’ll find a way to spin it on you.
Even though she had been brought up by a black family, Rachel had taught her that the police were there to help them, even if she had her own doubts. But Naomi had always wondered about what her birth mother had said. Now at last she knew that her birth mother had been right.
But if she couldn’t trust the police to protect her, then who?
Everyone she knew and loved had secrets, secrets that had helped put her in this cell. Dane’s watch had been found in the woods, splattered with Josie’s blood. Grace had had an argument with Hayley Miller that continued to push them apart. But they weren’t the only ones with secrets. Naomi closed her eyes and thought of her own.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The chair felt cold against Naomi’s back, bare behind the ties on the gown that wrapped around her like a limp hug.