The Suspects

by Katharine Johnson

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Surely Stuart would have grounds for appeal now?” I said.

  I’d brought it up a few times since we got back to the house but Zak never seemed to want to talk about it. “Even if Rick denies it, the Parkers saw Xanthe getting into his car.”

  Zak was in the kitchen, cooking in a cloud of turmeric that would have sent Stuart up the wall if he’d been there. He said the stains never came out. I’d just fed Livvy and put her down for a sleep.

  “I just want to forget about it now and move on,” he said.

  “So do I. But what about Stuart?”

  He turned down the power on the hob and filled the kettle. “Stuart was there, Em. You heard what they said about the blood particles. They were Xanthe’s. And he was seen coming up the bank from the ditch where she was found.”

  “I know but there must be another explanation.”

  He set two coffees down, sat at the table and rubbed the sides of his head. “We can’t keep having this conversation, can we?”

  “But-”

  “Emily, for God’s sake, give it a rest. Xanthe’s gone. There’s nothing we can do to bring her back. At least it was quick. She didn’t suffer. She came out of the trees so fast and hit the bonnet before she had time to be surprised.”

  Everything went still. I couldn’t hear anything except the hum of the fridge and the clicking of the clock hands.

  “What did you say?”

  He was staring at me, his face frozen in horror at the realisation he’d said too much.

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “How do you know she hit the bonnet?”

  “No, I don’t, I was guessing.”

  “No, you said ‘she wouldn’t have had time to be surprised.’ You were there, weren’t you?”

  I got out of my chair. My legs almost gave way. His face filled with alarm.

  “No, Em, listen to me. Sit down. Please. Let me explain.”

  But I couldn’t sit there. All this time I’d been blinded by my feelings for him, my bruised pride, my envy of Chiara. I’d made excuses for him, overlooked the obvious things like the way he’d kicked the corpse off the cliff as though it were a piece of rubbish, the way he’d set fire to the car so casually as if it was something he’d done many times before.

  I was suddenly horribly aware that we were alone. The Parkers wouldn’t hear – they couldn’t even hear their own television. The neighbours were all at work and the phone had been cut off days ago as yet another red bill went unpaid.

  I backed away. He lunged for me. “No. You can’t leave. I can’t let you leave. You can’t do this.”

  I dodged to the side, grabbing my chair and obstructing his path. “I can.”

  I shoved the chair at him and ran. I heard him jump over the chair. He reached for me but I wriggled out of his grasp.

  I ran down the hall. He caught me. We fell against the wall. I got up again.

  “Emily, stop. You don’t understand.”

  “That’s the problem, though – I do understand, don’t I?”

  He slammed himself against the front door. I turned round. I knew the back door was locked. That only left one option. The basement. All my instincts screamed no. But there was no other choice.

  I pulled open the basement door, grabbing the key from the lock as I did so. I swung round the door. Immediately, he was there. He grasped the handle on the other side.

  “Please, Em, we need to talk.” His voice had softened, taking on that tone that had fooled me for so many months. I’d been an idiot, let myself be blinded to his lies.

  I almost fell for it. Just like I’d fallen for all the other things he’d told me. This man who wrote poetry, wore a Rainbow Warrior T-shirt, didn’t eat animals, this man I’d shared a bed with, had a child with, had killed Xanthe.

  “No Zak, we’ve talked enough. I can’t trust anything you say.”

  He wasn’t going to give in. He’d been found out and he wasn’t going to let me go. I had to get the key back in the lock on my side at the same time as putting all my weight against the door. My breath caught as the door rattled and shook.

  “Emily. Stop this. Open the door. Open the bloody door!”

  Everything about him had changed. I fumbled with the lock. A sickening clink as the key fell from my hand and bounced down the steps in the darkness. I squatted down and groped for it but couldn’t find it.

  I flailed in the disorientating darkness for the light switch. I could see nothing at all. I had visions of losing my footing and plunging down the steps, landing on the floor below just like Oskar.

  I found the switch. Thank God. I’d feel safer once I could see. Then I’d be able to make my way through to the passage door that led out to the outside steps. I jabbed the switch back and forth. No light came on.

  “How could you do it?” I asked through the door, just resisting his attempts to break through. “What could Xanthe ever have done to deserve that? There must have been other ways to stop her going to the police. How did it feel when you realised you’d killed her? She was a friend, Zak. She’d have done anything for you – even after what you did to Rufus.”

  As the words left my mouth it was obvious I should have realised at the time. The way he’d created a different reality about how the dog died. That’s what he’d done with Oskar and unwittingly we’d helped him. Now he’d done the same to Xanthe.

  And it was what he’d do with me.

  A cry erupted from upstairs. Livvy. I’d left her upstairs. What kind of mother must I be to leave her on the wrong side of the door? Who knew what might happen to her if he took her with him? He’d displayed only kindness to her so far, but I hadn’t seen it either until now.

  “Please Zak – think about Livvy. She needs me. I’m not going to tell anyone. Just let me take her and go. I can keep secrets better than anyone, you know that.”

  I heard footsteps on the gravel above me. Through the slit of window at the top of the basement I saw boots and the bottoms of a pair of jeans pass in front of the house. With relief I realised Imogen was back which made me feel safer. Surely Zak wouldn’t do anything to me while she was in the house?

  She must have let herself in very quietly because I didn’t hear the door slam or her feet on the stairs but at least Livvy stopped crying so I guessed Imogen must have gone to her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you – or Livvy,” said Zak. “You must know that. You’re the two people that matter most to me in the world. Will you just listen to me? I didn’t do it. I wasn’t there. But I think – I’m pretty sure – I know who did.”

  I wanted so much to believe him.

  “Tell me then.”

  “I can’t…Oh God, I can’t tell you.”

  “Zak, tell me now.”

  After a long pause in which I thought he might have given up and left he said, “Chiara.”

  “Chiara? Why?”

  “You must believe me, I didn’t know until after it happened and even then I didn’t make the connection – not straightaway. Chiara was driving away from me after the row we had when I told her about the baby. She was in a state – you saw what she did to me. I told her she shouldn’t drive until she’d calmed down but to be honest I didn’t want her to stay.”

  I heard him slump down to sit on the floor. I sat gingerly on the step on the other side of the door. I pictured him with his knees drawn up and his head back against the door, eyes closed. I still didn’t know if I should trust what he said.

  “I stayed in her flat because I didn’t want to go back to the house looking like I did, and she’d said she’d be away until Sunday. But later that evening she was back. She was in a bad way, I’d never seen her like that before. Her car was smashed in at the front. She was so distressed she could hardly speak. Gradually it came out that she’d hit something.

  I felt a chill spread through my body. “Or someone? She hit Xanthe?”

  “I don’t know. I think – yeh.” His voice drop
ped to a whisper. “I think it was.

  “She was driving faster than she should. It was dark and raining so hard she could barely see. The bank’s steep up to the woods. It’s a blind bend even on a good day. She was half blinded by tears and the rain was coming down in sheets, too fast for the wipers to have much effect.

  “As she rounded the bend something burst out of the trees. A dark shape. She didn’t have time to register what it was. She tried to brake but she didn’t have a chance.

  “She knew she’d hit something. It happened so fast there was no time to think. She must have swerved, tried to stop. But all she could remember was the impact – like the car was exploding but it was all her cassettes being thrown up into the air and landing like glass shards. And then everything went black. Something landed on the bonnet, blocking the windscreen.

  “It was dark, she was scared, and she knew there’d be another car along soon. She couldn’t risk being seen. Something took over. It was probably at the back of her mind that she’d had a couple of drinks and if that came out she’d lose everything. So somehow, instead of pulling over, she put her foot down. She pushed on through and the windscreen cleared again.”

  I felt sick picturing the scene.

  “So it was an accident,” I said slowly.

  His voice dropped. “That’s what she said. But afterwards I realised Xanthe was wearing your red coat, the one you couldn’t fit into when you were pregnant…”

  I caught my breath. “She hit her deliberately? Because she thought it was me? She meant to kill me?”

  For some moments he didn’t answer.

  “At that moment, yes – but not really. She wasn’t thinking. You should have seen her when she got back to her flat. I said to her ‘You know it’s illegal to drive off without stopping after hitting someone?’

  “She just laughed. Pointed out I’d broken a few laws myself – and I realised nothing in life was as black and white as I’d used to think.

  “I went back with her to the spot where it happened. It was a bit lighter by then but the road was still wet, rain dripping off the trees. The road was thick was sodden leaves. I looked for tyre marks but couldn’t see anything. We walked up and down with our torches. There was nothing. No sign of an accident. I began to think she’d imagined it.

  “And then of course when I went back to the house I met you coming up the hill from the station, and you were fine.”

  A memory flooded back of Zak’s joyous reaction when he saw me that night. I’d put it down to relief at having split with Chiara but now I began to see it was more than that.

  “You weren’t hurt. You hadn’t even been in Bristol on Friday night when she’d had the accident. So we managed to convince ourselves she’d been mistaken – that she really had hit a tree. Or a fox or a deer or something.” He paused. “Yes, I know that’s bad too. But then we found Stuart tied to your bed and everything got crazy. And with Xanthe going missing things moved on.

  “As far as we were concerned Xanthe was in Sweden so we never thought this had anything to do with her. It was only weeks later, after her body had been discovered, that I started to piece it together.”

  Every time I thought this thing couldn’t get worse, it got worse. I thought I’d heard everything by now, that there couldn’t be any more shocks to come but like some dreadful, diseased thing, every time you poked it another awful rotting truth spilled out.

  “You knew, and you didn’t say anything?”

  “Don’t you see, I couldn’t? A secret for a secret, a lie for a lie. Just like with Rick. Just like we’ve done all through this bloody awful mess. I wasn’t in the best position to set terms. I promised to keep her secret if she kept ours. That’s why she hasn’t gone to the police about what we did.”

  He was quiet for a while and I heard him shifting position, trying to get comfortable. “And at the time I felt responsible. I knew Chiara wasn’t thinking straight. And afterwards I told her I never wanted to see her again – that’s really why we split up. But I didn’t tell the police because I felt it was partly my fault.”

  I could hear him breathing on the other side of the door. His voice was close as though his face was up against the wood.

  “I can just about understand why you didn’t go to the police but for God’s sake didn’t you think I had a right to know?”

  “Yes, you did. And I’m sorry. I don’t like it either – this whole thing is shit. I can’t stand it any longer. I just want it to stop.”

  I thought I heard a sound from upstairs. Like any new parents our ears were tuned to Livvy’s little noises. We stopped and listened for a moment but the house was quiet except for its usual creaks and hums.

  “But how come Stuart had Xanthe’s blood on his hoody?”

  “Xanthe must have injured herself earlier in the evening. It was only in the past few days that I understood why there was no body there anymore. Rick must have heard the impact, like he says, but instead of getting back in his car and driving away he must have come out of the woods, checked for signs of life, realised there was nothing he could do, and then panicked, thinking if anyone saw him, they’d think he was responsible. So he rolled her down the bank.”

  Another noise – definitely a cry this time. What if Zak was lying? But I had to get to Livvy. As I pulled open the door Zak scrambled up and raised his hands as though I were aiming a gun at him. His eyes were filled with shock, fear and confusion.

  “I’ll go,” he said.

  “No, I will.”

  But in the hall we froze, staring up at the staircase levels. Livvy’s cries were louder now. My heart dropped as I saw who was standing on the top landing holding my baby.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I rushed forward. Zak stopped me.

  “Don’t do this, Chiara,” he said.

  Chiara’s face was streaked with tears. “You promised,” she said. “You promised me you wouldn’t tell.”

  She looked down at Livvy. “Shh, shh shh.”

  “Please put her down,” I said. “This isn’t fair.”

  She nuzzled her face in Liv’s silky hair. “A lot of things aren’t fair though, are they? Like, let me see – lying, cheating, keeping secrets. None of it’s fair. But you thought it was all right to treat me like that didn’t you?”

  She smiled and then her mouth made an O. “Whoops.”

  I cried out. She was holding my precious baby, standing dangerously close to the bannister.

  “Pretty pattern on the floor,” she whispered in a baby voice to Livvy. Livvy gurgled back.

  “Please, please put her down,” I said. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

  “Chiara, you’ve made your point,” said Zak. “I’m sorry. Just please, for God’s sake be careful. Give her back.”

  “Oopsadaisy.” Chiara bounced her once, twice, three times in the air. “Oh, isn’t this fun?” Livvy burbled, unaware. Chiara’s voice hardened. “You should have told me about her at the beginning Zak. Just like you should have told me about the man in the cellar. Did you enjoy stringing me along?”

  “No of course I didn’t. I told you I’m sorry. Look, we’ve all kept secrets from each other and now we’re all keeping them for each other. I never meant to hurt you. Just put her down.”

  “Down?” Chiara raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure?” She gave a little smile. “Oh all right then.”

  The bannister creaked as she leant over, dangling Livvy in front of her. The baby blanket fell to the floor, floating and tumbling before landing in a heap.

  We both screamed. We couldn’t help it.

  “I wish you hadn’t made me do this,” Chiara said.

  “You wouldn’t,” I breathed.

  “Wouldn’t I? I didn’t mean to hurt Xanthe. She was the best of you. But actually, I don’t think I killed her. Stuart hit her after I did. If he'd been more careful she'd probably have survived”

  It sounded ridiculous but I wasn’t going to argue and tell her about Rick. I didn’t think
she really meant to hurt Livvy, only to scare us, to be the one in control, but the way she was behaving, I could imagine her losing her grip. I could only whisper while trying not to cry,

  “Please. I’m sure you’re right. I won’t tell because there’s nothing to tell. Like you say, you didn’t do it.”

  Chiara laughed. “If only I could believe you. If I really thought you’d keep quiet, it would be different. But you’ve shown me you’re not to be trusted.”

  Zak’s face was screwed up in horror. “Stop. Just fucking stop this.”

  “You’re not giving me any choice,” she shouted. “Can’t you see, this is hard for me? Don’t make it harder than it is.”

  She bounced Livvy up and down again. What happened next seemed to take place in slow motion. The bannister creaked. It gave way in a series of creaks and folds. Chiara screamed. I saw the panic on her face. She grabbed the remaining part of the rail but it also started to collapse. We rushed forward. She fell.

  My vision clouded and went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I was conscious. My eyelids flickered. Opening them, my gaze met Imogen’s. Denim blue eyes, barely blinking. I flinched.

  “Why aren’t I dead?”

  “Don’t be an arse,” she said. “You’ll have a few bruises, that’s all. The staircase collapsed. I came in with Mr and Mrs Parker just as it happened – the place looks like a bomb’s hit it. We heard a scream and then all the noise.”

  “Where’s Livvy?”

  “With Mrs Parker.”

  “And Zak?”

  “He stayed with her until the police came. He told them what Chiara did.”

  “Is Chiara okay?”

  Imogen rolled her eyes. “Don’t waste your energy worrying about her. She’s probably concussed but she’s not dead. She’s in the hospital under police guard. You broke her fall and she broke Livvy’s. Stuart will get his appeal now.”

  ***

  An hour later we sat eating takeaway pizza in the midst of the ruins. The hall smelled of dust.