‘Yes, of course.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I was gardening and I needed some flower pots to plant some bulbs in.
I knew I’d find some in the shed because that’s where Matthew – my husband – keeps them. I picked up a big one and there was a tea towel in the bottom and as I took it out I could feel there was something wrapped inside.
I started to unwrap it and when I saw the serrated blade The Breakdown
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and realised it was a knife, I was so scared that I quickly wrapped it up again – it reminded me of the one I’d seen on television in relation to the Jane Walters murder, you see. So I put it back and phoned you.’
‘Do you recognise the tea towel?’ he asks.
I nod slowly. ‘A friend brought it back from New
York for me.’
‘But you’ve never seen this knife before.’
I hesitate. ‘I think I might have.’
‘Other than on the television,’ PC Lawson says kindly.
I don’t blame her for thinking I’m a bit thick after the fiasco with the alarm and the mug. And for the moment it suits me to let her think that I am because if I let slip certain pieces of information which might – well – incriminate Matthew, it won’t seem malicious.
‘Yes, other than on the television,’ I say. ‘It was about a month ago, on a Sunday. I went into the kitchen to stack the dishwasher before going to bed and it was lying on the side.’
‘This knife?’ the policeman asks.
‘Possibly. I only saw it quickly because by the time I called Matthew to come and see it, it had gone.’
‘Gone?’
‘Yes, it wasn’t there anymore. Instead there was a small kitchen knife lying in its place. But I knew I’d seen a much bigger knife and I was really frightened. I wanted to phone you but Matthew said it was just my mind playing tricks.’
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‘Can you run through exactly what you saw that
night, Mrs Anderson?’ PC Lawson asks, going back to her notebook.
I nod. ‘As I said, I went through to the kitchen to load the dishwasher and, as I bent down to put the plates in, I saw a huge knife lying on the side. It wasn’t one I’d seen before – we don’t have any like that – and I got such a fright that all I could think of was getting out of the kitchen as quickly as possible so I ran into hall and began screaming for Matthew—’
‘Where was your husband at this point?’ she interrupts.
I wrap my arms around my body, pretending nervousness. She smiles at me encouragingly so I take a deep breath. ‘He’d gone up to bed before me so he was upstairs. He came running down and I told him there was a huge knife on the side in the kitchen. I could see that he didn’t believe me. I asked him to call you because I’d seen a photograph of the knife that was used in the murder and it looked exactly the same, so I was terrified the murderer was somewhere in the garden, or even in the house. But Matthew said he wanted to see the knife first so he came down to the kitchen and then he called me to come and look. And when I looked, the big knife had gone and there was a little kitchen knife lying in its place.’
‘Did your husband go all the way into the kitchen or did he stay in the doorway?’
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‘I don’t really remember. I think he stayed in the
doorway but I’m afraid I was a little hysterical at that point.’
‘What did your husband do next?’
‘He made a show of looking round the kitchen for the knife but I knew he was just humouring me. And when he didn’t find it, he said I must have been mistaken.’
‘And did you think you were mistaken?’
I shake my head vigorously. ‘No.’
‘So what did you think had happened?’
‘I thought that the big knife was there but that someone had come in through the back door while I was telling Matthew about it and swapped it for a kitchen knife.
I know it sounds stupid but that’s what I believed and that’s what I still believe.’
PC Lawson nods. ‘Can you tell us where you and your husband were on the night of July 17th?’
‘Yes, it was the last day of term – I’m a teacher at Castle Wells High – and I went to a wine bar with some of my colleagues from the school where I worked. There was a storm that night.’
‘And your husband?’
‘He was here, at home.’
‘By himself?’
‘Yes.’
‘What time did you get back?’
‘It must have been about eleven forty-five.’
‘And your husband was here?’
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‘He was asleep in the spare bedroom. He phoned
me as I was leaving Castle Wells to tell me he had a migraine and was going to sleep in the spare room so that I wouldn’t disturb in when I came in.’
‘Did he say anything else?’
‘Just that I wasn’t to come home by Blackwater Lane.
He said there was a storm coming and I should stick to the main road.’
She exchanges a glance with PC Thomas. ‘So when
you got home, your husband was asleep in the spare room.’
‘Yes. I didn’t go and check on him because the door was closed and I didn’t want to disturb him but he must have been there.’ I put a puzzled look on my face. ‘I mean, where else would he have been?’