‘We can’t do that, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘We know you had your reasons for running away and we even know what some of those reasons were. But we need to hear your side of it.’
She looked at the watch that hung loosely from her wrist. ‘You can’t stay for long.’
‘Got somewhere to be?’ Derwent asked, and she glared at him briefly, then stepped away from the door and disappeared into the shadows of the house.
As I crossed the threshold I felt a chill that seemed to seep all the way through to my bones. The rooms on either side of the hall were dim. The air smelled of cold ashes and damp. I tried to imagine it blazing with life and warmth, sunlight streaming in through the big windows, the breeze from the river tossing the trees.
‘Cheerful,’ Derwent muttered in my ear and I nodded before following Kate into the room on the right of the hall: a sitting room. It was a pleasant enough room, or it would have been if there had been a fire in the hearth. The armchairs and sofa were upholstered in faded chintz that felt damp when I touched it. Kate seemed oblivious to the cold and when Derwent switched on a lamp she jumped, surprised at the yellowish light that flooded the room. We sat down, Georgia and me on the sofa, Derwent in an armchair that sagged under his weight. He leaned forward.
‘So, Mrs Emery. Seems to me you have some explaining to do.’
‘I don’t have to explain anything to you.’
‘That’s not technically true, is it? You’ve got yourself into a right old mess, love. Why did you do it? Why fake your death?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Oh, come on. You left your house looking like an abattoir. You left your belongings, your keys, your phone. What else were we supposed to think?’
Kate shrugged. ‘I can’t help the assumptions you made.’
‘People usually have a few reasons for pretending to be dead,’ I said. ‘They’ve done something terrible, they want to claim life insurance without the inconvenience of actually dying, or they’re scared of someone. Which is it, Kate?’
‘Insurance, obviously,’ Derwent said. ‘That would have been a hefty payout, Kate. Well worth losing a few pints of blood.’
‘I didn’t claim anything. I have a life insurance policy but so do lots of people.’
‘You didn’t get the chance to claim it.’ Derwent smiled. ‘I didn’t come down in the last shower, Kate.’
‘You can’t prove it because I didn’t do it. Are you arresting people for crimes they might commit now?’
‘It’s common sense, Kate. And if we put in a bit more work, we’ll be able to prove it.’
‘I doubt that.’ She was tightly coiled like a snake about to strike. ‘You’re talking nonsense.’
‘No, what’s nonsense is expecting us to believe you’d stage your own death for no reason.’
‘You’re not being fair to Mrs Emery,’ I said. ‘I did mention some other reasons for wanting to disappear. Like having done something terrible. Like being afraid.’
Her attention switched back to me, her eyes unblinking. ‘Afraid of whom?’
‘Morgan Norris, for one?’
I thought she was going to be sick then and there. She swayed, then gathered herself together. ‘What about him?’
‘We found the clothes. Your clothes.’ I tilted my head, considering her. ‘But I think we were meant to find them. You didn’t want him to get away with what he did to you.’
She didn’t answer straight away. Then she said, ‘He did it to scare me. And it worked.’
‘Why did he want to scare you?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was wary now.
‘You were having an affair with his brother.’
I had the impression that something that had been held taut slackened within her: relief. We knew about the affair and not about the blackmail. ‘You know about that.’
‘We found some forensic evidence. And Oliver told us.’
‘He was very forthcoming. He seemed proud of himself,’ Derwent said. Kate’s mouth curled into a smile, but not a pleasant one.
‘I’m sure he was happy to tell you all about it.’
‘One thing that’s been bothering me.’ Derwent leaned forward, his arms on his knees. ‘Why did you make him use a condom?’
‘What?’
‘Oliver. Why make him use a condom? You knew he was shooting blanks.’
‘I – I didn’t. I couldn’t have known.’ She was on high alert again, her hands clasped together in her lap. ‘It was healthier. For both of us. I always insist on it with all my partners. It’s safer.’
‘Morgan didn’t wear a condom,’ I said. Did we know about the blackmail or not? The tension had to be tormenting her. ‘Because he raped you. You didn’t get the chance to make him put one on.’
‘Did you arrest him?’
‘I’ve interviewed him but, without your testimony, I can’t take it further. Believe me, I’d like to.’
‘I can’t help you.’ Her face was shuttered, remote.
‘He’ll do it to someone else,’ I said.
‘That’s not my problem.’
‘All about the self-interest, our Kate,’ Derwent said. ‘It’s what’s best for you all the time, isn’t it? You didn’t even stick around to make sure your daughter was all right. You left Chloe behind, Kate. That’s cold.’
‘Don’t you dare talk to me about my daughter. You have no right.’
Derwent carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Chloe’s dead, Kate. DS Kerrigan and I went to her post-mortem. Someone killed her and threw her body away like she was nothing.’
‘We don’t know why it happened, let alone who did it,’ I said. ‘We’ve wasted a lot of time looking for your killer, but it hasn’t got us very far with finding Chloe’s.’
‘How did she die?’
‘She drowned.’
‘Did they – did they hurt her?’ she whispered.
‘She had some injuries.’ Pity made me add, ‘But she didn’t have defensive injuries. She wasn’t assaulted. It looked as if she didn’t fight.’
Kate pressed her hand over her mouth, physically holding back the sobs that shook her fragile frame. Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Do you know what happened to her, Kate? Can you help us? That’s more important than anything else at this moment.’
‘We want to find the person or people who hurt your daughter,’ Derwent said, his voice softer now. I’d known him a long time but I’d never got used to the way he could switch from flippant hostility to the purest kind of empathy. ‘They don’t deserve to get away with it. You don’t want them to get away with it.’
‘No.’ She dragged in a breath, gasping a little. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘So please, Kate, help us.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ I said. ‘I don’t understand. You obviously loved Chloe.’
‘More than you can imagine. More than anything.’
‘Then why won’t you talk to us?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything.’
‘She ran away with Bethany Norris and Bethany tried to kill herself after Chloe died,’ I said. ‘Why?’
‘You’ll have to ask Bethany.’
‘Chloe was sleeping with William Turner, did you know that?’
Kate flinched. ‘I – no.’
‘They were in love.’
‘Chloe didn’t understand love.’
‘William says she did.’