I Will Break You (Best International Thrillers)

by Daniela Arnold

  “I will.”

  Grace opened her eyes. “Do you still have those dreams?” she asked, her voice full of worry.

  Charly started. How did Grace know about that?

  “Do you promise to go to the police, dear?”

  Charly shook her head in confusion. “Police? Why?”

  “You said someone was watching you. That was the last time you visited me. Don’t you remember?”

  Charly stood frozen in the doorframe, holding Jody’s hand tightly. Then the scales fell from her eyes and she forced herself to put on a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Mama, I went to the police. They promised to take care of it.”

  Grace nodded, then drifted off to sleep.

  On the way to the car Charly shook all over. When she managed to strap Jody into her seat, she fell behind the steering wheel, leaned her head back against the seat, sorting her thoughts.

  Grace had mistaken her for Imogen, and clearly at some point, she must have told her mother she felt she was being watched. So if Imogen had been convinced someone was following and observing her, it could only mean she was not crazy and that her fear was justified.

  Jody’s voice penetrated her ear as if from afar.

  “In a moment, my sweetheart,” Charly said absently and noted how monotonous her voice sounded. “Let me think for a moment.”

  Jody fell silent, devoted herself to her doll again.

  Charly took a deep breath, felt her body begin to vibrate. She started the car. She was more convinced than ever that she was on the right track, and she would not rest until she found out why her friend and her husband had died and who was responsible.

  Chapter 11

  Newhaven, June 2015

  A rumble ripped Charly from her sleep. Startled, she drove up from her bed and listened.

  What was that noise? She threw back her blanket and stood up, tiptoeing down the corridor.

  All quiet. Was she imagining it? Or was it another one of her nightmares? Suddenly she remembered that a storm had hit the coast in the evening. Most likely the storm had knocked over one of the piles of wood in the garden behind the house. She went back to bed, snuggled into her blanket. After a few minutes her thought carousel started and completely dispelled her drowsiness. Frustrated, she stared into the darkness, reviewing the rest of yesterday’s events. When they returned home after their visit to the nursing home, Alice had been waiting for them. At the thought of Jody’s enthusiasm seeing her aunt, Charly felt a stab in her chest. She couldn’t help admitting that she was jealous. She wished Jody would feel the same way about her as she did about Alice. She had watched them both in the afternoon, seen how lovingly Alice treated the girl and how Jody reacted to her in return.

  Charly swallowed hard. Would she ever manage that Jody gave her only rudimentary feelings of this kind? Charly secretly had to admit that there was hardly anything she wanted more, and that she was terribly scared. Fear of making mistakes and failing as Jody’s guardian, as well as failing her friend. When she voiced her concerns, Alice had taken her in her arms, told her not to worry about it, that she would grow into her new role, and that Jody had long since accepted her as a member of the family, even if sometimes it didn’t seem like it.

  In general Charly had the impression that Alice and she had become something like friends after yesterday. And a friend was exactly what she needed most.

  Alice had told Charly about her mother. Apparently she had been a strong woman, even though she had suffered all her life that her daughter’s father did not stand by her and the child. She had been everything for Alice, she had had a beautiful childhood despite all the adversities, and she had never lacked anything. She had burst into tears, sobbing that Jody was now her only family, whereupon Charly had embraced her and assured her she was welcome anytime. She realized that she liked Alice, trusted her, wanted to hear her opinion. That was why she had told her something about her private life. That she had messed up every relationship she had ever had, or simply got into the wrong ones. Like Andreas. She had admitted that he had scared the hell out of her and that she feared that he had followed her and was watching her. That brought the conversation back to Imogen, whom Charly knew from her visit to Grace had had the feeling of being watched. Then Charly had vented to Alice about the phone call with Linda Shaw, saying that she would do everything she could to keep that ice-cold person from getting Jody. She never expected Alice to take Imogen’s mother-in-law’s side.

  “Basically, there’s nothing wrong with what she thinks about my sister,” Alice had remarked. “Imogen was mentally ill and the effects were of course felt by Jody. Imogen once completely lost it and even hit Jody. That was the moment when I said it couldn’t go on like that. I insisted that she get medical attention. After that it got better for a short time until she stopped the therapy. You know the result of this decision… I understand that Linda can’t forgive her for giving up and leaving her child behind. Likewise, the fact that she wants to fight for custody of Jody is not reprehensible. What grandmother wouldn’t want to have her grandchild with her?”

  Charly had been unable to respond, and even had to admit that Alice was right in a way. Looking back, it seemed the Imogen she knew was a completely different one than the one Alice had met. Thinking about the wedding photos from last night, Charly’s bowels convulsed. Of course she didn’t want to leave the pictures unmentioned to Alice, but when she wanted to show them to her, they were no longer to be found. Charly had turned the whole house upside down looking for them, but never found them. Alice’s hunch about whether Jody could be behind it was that in the excitement of the night, she had most likely misplaced the pictures and that they would turn up again, eventually. As for the doodling, Alice had explained that Imogen herself might have defaced her face. Precisely because they were wedding photos. “Perhaps my sister despised herself for accepting Adam’s deceit so easily?”

  As hard as it was for Charly to admit it, it sounded quite possible considering Imogen’s state of mind. Yet it was quite conceivable that Jody felt great anger towards her mother. Because she had changed so extremely and had even hit her, and then left her alone, to make matters worse.

  Charly expelled the air she was holding. What Alice had said made more sense. At least somehow. Nevertheless, everything in Charly was reluctant to see this theory as the only true one.

  A renewed rumbling made her flinch. This time she was absolutely sure that it had come from the upper floor.

  She jumped out of bed and ran into the living room, grabbed a poker from the stand in front of the fireplace. A soft cry floated down from above.

  Jody!

  She probably had woken up and had to go to the bathroom.

  Charly put the poked back and headed up. At the top of the stairs she paused and listened. No sounds came from either Jody’s room or the bathroom. Charly began to shiver and continued walking until she was standing in front of Jody’s room. Her hand trembled as she stretched it out to push the door open a little. She stepped into the room toward the bed and saw that Jody was fast asleep. Had she cried out in her sleep? She gently stroked the little girl’s cheek, noting with surprise the girl’s face was dry. She hadn’t flinched when she touched her either. Jody appeared to be fast asleep. Had she just imagined that crying? Were her nerves already so tense that she was already beginning to hear things that didn’t exist at all? Maybe the rumbling hadn’t been real either.

  Charly crept out of Jody’s room, closed the door behind her, and set about looking in the other rooms. She was standing in front of the bathroom, her hand on the doorknob when she heard a threatening whisper. Or was it more of a giggle? Her insides cramped up and she broke out in sweat. The sound seemed to be coming from the first floor, yet she forced herself—against her impulse to grab Jody and run away—to check the upstairs first. She took a look into the dark bathroom, then went on into the bedroom. To her relief everything appeared to be fine, and she wondered if the wind c
ould be responsible for that whispering she’d heard. She remembered that she had tilted the kitchen window open while cooking dinner. That made sense. The whispering was due to a gust of wind that had entered the house through the open window. Brushing away her nervousness, she stood in front of the office where Imogen and Adam kept their tax and insurance records. She reached for the doorknob, involuntarily holding her breath, then pushed the door open with a violent thud. Inside the room, the light was on, although Charly was sure she had turned it off when she was looking for the wedding photos. She stepped over the threshold and froze. Until a few hours ago, a map of the world had hung on the wall above the desk, on which Imogen and Adam had used pins to indicate which countries they had traveled to in the past. Now, however, the map was crumpled up on the floor and the wall was littered with photos. Charly fought against the rising panic. Then she registered that all the pictures were the same subjects. She staggered slightly, feeling that her legs would sag under her body. In the photos were three children about seven years old. Imogen, Megan, and herself. Each of them was sitting on a child’s bicycle and the sun was shining on them. Charly’s eyes filled with tears. They had been so happy that day, and now, over twenty years later, two of them were dead. As if in a trance, she crept closer, reached out her hand, and tore one of the photos from the wall, looking at it more closely. Why hadn’t she noticed it right away? Horrified, she dropped the photo on the floor and ripped the next one from the wall. Another one. And another one. Who the hell had done this? And above all, why? She sank to the floor, picked up one of the pictures, and stuck her index finger through the small hole.

  Who on earth had cut out Imogen’s face in all these photos?

  Charly jumped up and rummaged through the trashcan. Nothing. Then she ran into Jody’s room and searched there, in the trashcan, drawers, and cupboards. No luck, either. With a heavy heart, she decided to wake Jody up. She gently pulled away the blanket and shook her shoulder. When the girl sat up and stared at her sleepily and confusedly, Charly wanted to cry. She picked the girl up in her arms and carried her to the office, pointing to the wall with the photos.

  “Do you know who that was?” she asked sternly. Jody started crying and shook her head. Then she rubbed her eyes, started yawning.

  “Please, Jody, I need to know. Did you see anyone who could’ve done this?” This time, Charly made sure to make her voice sound soft and gentle so as not to scare the girl. Another shake of the head.

  “Okay,” said Charly. She pressed the child against her. “I’m sorry, you understand? I had to ask you this because…” She faltered. Yes, why? Charly realized how idiotic her reaction was. How could a three year old child manage to copy a photo several times and then cut a face out of each one of them? And how should she have attached these photos to the wall? Her eyes landed on the office chair. Jody could have climbed onto the desk from there and… She quickly rejected the idea, hugging Jody tighter. “I’ll put you back to bed.”

  Jody sniffled. “Can you read me something?”

  Charly gently stroked the child’s cheek. “Sure.” On leaving, she turned off the light and cast a last glance over her shoulder. She had the feeling she’d walked into a trap. She checked her wristwatch. She would have loved to call Alice and ask for advice, but she would resent a disturbance at this time of night. As for Charly, she was sure she would not get a wink of sleep tonight.

  She covered Jody with a blanket, sat cross-legged in front of the crib with a Walt Disney book on her lap. When she met Jody’s expectant gaze, she began to read. But no matter how exciting little Mowgli’s adventures were, her thoughts kept circling around the question of whether it made sense to call Jake, or whether he would declare her crazy, as he had with Imogen.

  chapter 12

  Newhaven, June 2015

  Charly was awakened the next morning by a hammering in her head. The past few nights had taken their toll, tugging at her nerves. Groaning, she got up and staggered into the bathroom. After a hot shower she felt a little better, but the migraine was still raging in her eye sockets, making it hard for her to think. She went into Jody’s room, noting with relief that the girl was still sleeping. She went to the kitchen, put on a strong coffee, hoping that the brew would push her pain into nirvana.

  As she sipped her coffee a little later, her thoughts drifted to the photos from last night. Scared, she jumped up, cursing as a gush of coffee from the cup spilled onto the table and soaked the bright tablecloth.

  She ran to the second floor, ripped open the door to the office, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the photos. She ripped them all off the walls, wondering where she could hide them. Ultimately, she decided to put them in her handbag, so she would have them with her in case of emergency. Her gaze fell on the picture at the very top. Like last night, the faceless Imogen deeply disturbed her. But Megan’s happy face also triggered something in her she could not put into words. Her heartbeat accelerated.

  Why this particular image?

  And why had someone only cut out Imogen’s face? She tried to remember exactly what had happened to Megan, but the migraine made it even harder than usual for Charly to dig into her memories.

  On the way downstairs, she checked on Jody again, thought about waking her for a moment, then decided to let her sleep in. Back in the kitchen she picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Lewes Police Office. She asked the woman at the switchboard to connect her to Jake Bishop.

  While she waited, she thought about what she could say to Jake without him declaring her crazy. When the line crackled a moment later, she was ready to go, but it turned out that she had been connected to one of Jake’s colleagues because he was on vacation today. Frustrated, she hung up, wondering if she could risk calling him at home on his day off. After some consideration, she decided to postpone the whole thing until the next day and take Jody on a trip to Brighton. She hadn’t been there for years, and had a sudden longing for fish and chips from the small snack bar on the pier. She ran upstairs to wake Jody.

  Less than two hours later Charly and Jody were on their way to Brighton. There was a traffic jam on the busy coastal road as always, but instead of getting annoyed Charly used the standing times to play “I see something you don’t” with Jody. She briefly considered calling Alice and asking her if she wanted to join them, but rejected the idea and decided to spend the afternoon alone with Jody and invite Alice for a glass of wine in the evening.

  In Brighton there was, as always, a lack of parking spaces, so Charly was forced to park her car in a guarded parking lot near the beach. Gritting her teeth, she paid the high fee and headed off to the pier with Jody. The little girl howled with pleasure when she saw the Ferris wheel and tugged at Charly’s hand to get her to run faster.

  “I’m hungry,” she said and winked at the girl. “Do you want some fish and chips?”

  “No,” Jody insisted, pointing to the Ferris wheel. “That’s where I want to go!”

  Charly laughed. “Fine, but right afterwards I need to eat.”

  After a turn on the Ferris wheel, Jody insisted on two more rides. When they stood in line in front of the snack bar an hour later, Charly was already a little nauseous from hunger. She had skipped breakfast because of the prospect of a greasy lunch, so now it was high time to plug the hole in her stomach. When it was their turn, she ordered a small portion of baked chicken with fries for Jody and a huge amount of fish and chips for herself. At the sight of the golden yellow and fat dripping delicacies on her paper plate Charly’s mouth watered. She looked for a free bench with a view of the sea and sat down next to Jody and greedily put a large piece of juicy white fish filet in her mouth. She moaned with pleasure as the warm fat ran from her tongue into her throat, chewed once, swallowed. Only when she heard Jody giggling next to her did she realize she was stuffing her food like a Rottweiler and, judging by the amused looks of some tourists strolling by, most likely painted a funny picture. She made a contrite face in Jo
dy’s direction and wiped her greasy mouth, forcing herself to eat the rest of her food more slowly.

  “Well, somebody is hungry,” a voice said next to her, making her flinch. She turned around and looked into the face of a five-year-old boy next to her. “I’ve never seen anyone slurp like that before.” The little boy grinned. She glanced past him, her gaze catching the child’s father.

  “Hello, Charly. So we meet again.” Jake smiled at her in a friendly way, nothing to indicate that their last conversation had ended on a rather unpleasant note. He gestured to the boy. “This is my son, Jonas.”

  Charly grinned and wiped her fingers on a paper napkin, shaking first with Jonas, then Jake.

  “My colleague said you called,” Jake explained. “I would have called you back tomorrow, but since we’re here…”

  Charly made a head movement towards the children. “Let’s leave it for tomorrow. I have to talk to you about something that is not meant for Jody’s ears.”

  “Let’s go inside,” he suggested. “During the week it’s usually not so loud and crowded, so we could be lucky and find a quiet place.”

  Inside the hall there was a huge play paradise with all kinds of machines, lottery booths, and skill games. Jake bought a stack of chips and sent Jonas and Jody to a machine where you had to hit colorful moles on the head with a hammer to get as many points as possible. As the kids screamed with pleasure, he turned to Charly and said, “Do you want to talk about it now?”

  She lowered her head. When she looked up again, she said, “It’s Megan.”

  Jake sat back, waited.

  “I wanted to apologize to you. I know how strange it must have seemed that I, of all people, don’t remember her…” She looked Jake in the eyes. “To be honest, my head is still in total chaos. I can’t explain it, but maybe it’s because of what happened to Imogen. Or maybe our move to Germany was around the same time Megan died. It could be that I only noted this tragedy in passing and somehow completely blanked out. Megan and I were such good friends. How could I have forgotten that?” She avoided Jake’s gaze. “I’m so… I’m so messed up that I don’t even remember much of what happened. Not to mention that slowly but surely I’m starting to feel like I’m going crazy. Ever since I’ve been back here, everything is strange.”