I found the knife in the shed just now I didn’t know what to think. At first, I thought the murderer had hidden it there and I was going to phone Matthew to ask him what I should do. And then I remembered that he didn’t believe me when I told him about the knife in the kitchen so I phoned you instead.’ I let tears fill my eyes. ‘But now I don’t know if I did the right thing because I know what you’re thinking, I know you think that Matthew is the murderer, that he killed Jane because she knew about him and Rachel and was going to tell me, but he can’t be, he can’t be!’
With perfect timing, Matthew arrives home.
‘What’s going on?’ he says, coming into the kitchen.
He looks over to where I’m standing. ‘Did you set the alarm off again?’ He turns to one of the officers. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been called out again. It’s very probable that my wife has early-onset dementia.’
I open my mouth to tell them that all I’ve been diag-nosed with is stress but close it quickly, because at this point it isn’t really important.
‘We’re not here for the alarm,’ PC Lawson explains.
He puts his bag down on the floor, frowning. ‘Well, if you’re not here because of the alarm, can I ask what this is about?’
‘Have you seen this before?’ PC Thomas holds out
the tea towel, the knife clearly visible.
We all hear the tiny hesitation. ‘No, why, what is it?’
‘It’s a knife, Mr Anderson.’
The Breakdown
389
‘Good grief.’ Matthew sounds shocked. ‘Where did
you find it?’
‘In your garden shed.’
‘In the garden shed?’ He manages to look incredulous.
‘How did it get there?’
‘That’s what we’re here to find out. Perhaps we can all go and sit down?’
‘Of course. If you’d like to come through.’
I follow everyone through to the sitting room.
Matthew and I sit down on the sofa and the two officers draw up chairs. I don’t know if they do it on purpose but they place the chairs right opposite Matthew, hemming him in, leaving me out of their claustrophobic triangle.
‘Can I ask who found the knife?’ Matthew asks.
‘Your wife did.’ PC Lawson says.
‘I needed some flower pots to put some bulbs in,’ I explain. ‘It was in one of the big ones, wrapped in a tea towel.’
‘Do you recognise this tea towel?’ PC Thomas shows it to Matthew.
‘No, I’ve never seen it before.’
I give a nervous laugh. ‘That shows how often you
dry the dishes,’ I say, pretending I’m trying to break the tension. ‘We have one exactly like it. Rachel brought it back from New York for us.’
‘What about this knife, Mr Anderson?’ PC Thomas
says. ‘Have you seen it before?’
‘No.’ Matthew shakes his head firmly.
390
b a paris
‘I was just saying that it looks exactly like the one that I saw lying on the side that Sunday evening,’ I tell him earnestly.
‘We’ve been through all this before,’ Matthew
says wearily. ‘It was our kitchen knife that you saw, remember?’
‘No, it wasn’t, it was a much bigger knife.’
‘Can I ask where you were on the night of Friday July 17th, Mr Anderson?’ PC Thomas asks.
‘I’m not sure I can remember that far back,’ Matthew says with a little laugh. But nobody laughs with him.
‘It was the night I went out with the people from
school,’ I say helpfully. ‘The night of the storm.’
‘Oh yes.’ Matthew nods. ‘I was here, at home.’
‘Did you leave the house at all?’
‘No, I had a migraine and went to bed.’
‘Where did you sleep?’
‘In the spare room.’
‘Why did you sleep there, why not in your own bed?’
‘Because I didn’t want Cass to disturb me when she came in. Look, what’s going on? Why am I being questioned like this?’
PC Lawson studies him for a few seconds. ‘Just trying to establish a few facts, that’s all,’ she says.
‘What facts?’
‘A possible murder weapon has been found in your
garden shed, Mr Anderson.’
The Breakdown
391
Matthew’s mouth drops open. ‘You’re not seriously
suggesting that I had anything to do with that young woman’s murder?’
PC Thomas looks at him thoughtfully. ‘What young
woman would that be, Mr Anderson?’
‘You know very well who I mean!’ His veneer begins to crack and I watch him dispassionately, wondering how I could ever have loved him.
‘As I said, we’re trying to establish facts. Mr Anderson, how well do you know Rachel Baretto?’
The mention of Rachel surprises him. He looks up
sharply. ‘Not very well. She’s my wife’s friend.’
‘So you’re not in a relationship with her.’
‘What? No! I can’t stand the woman!’
‘But I saw you kissing her,’ I say quietly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘The day she came over unexpectedly, the day I
couldn’t remember how to work the coffee machine, I saw you kissing her in the hall,’ I insist.