Shock shudders in and out of me. ‘Rachel,’ I say
hoarsely. ‘Rachel killed Jane?’
‘Yes.’
Panic surges through me. Despite everything I know she’s capable of I don’t believe this. I know I’d told the police things to implicate her, like with Matthew, but I had only wanted her to be frightened.
‘No, not Rachel, she can’t have. She wouldn’t have, she’s not like that, she wouldn’t kill someone! You’ve got it wrong, you must have…’ Despite my hatred for Rachel, for what she’s done to me, I feel so scared for her that I can’t go on.
‘I’m afraid she’s confessed,’ PC Lawson says, pushing a mug towards me. Obediently, I take a sip of hot, sweet
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tea, my hands shaking so much that some of it slops over the side and scalds me. ‘When we questioned her about it last night, she just caved in. It was incredible – for some reason she thought we were on to her. You were right when you said the row between them wasn’t over a parking space. Of course, we’ll have her and Jane’s DNA all over the knife…’
I feel as if I’m caught up in a nightmare. ‘What – the knife I found in the shed – it’s actually the murder weapon?’
‘She cleaned it up, of course, but blood residue has been found in grooves in the handle. We’ve sent it to Forensics but we’re certain it’s Jane’s.’
‘But…’ It’s a struggle to keep up. ‘She said she bought it in London.’
‘She probably did, but before the murder, not after.
She couldn’t very well tell Matthew that she already had a knife so she pretended she’d bought it to frighten you with. Leaving it in your shed afterwards was a way of hiding it.’
‘I don’t understand.’ My teeth are chattering with shock so I circle the mug with my hands, craving some warmth. ‘I mean, why? Why would she do such a thing?
She didn’t really know Jane.’
‘She knew her better than you think.’ PC Lawson sits down next to me. ‘Did Rachel ever tell you about her private life, introduce you to her partners?’
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‘No, not really. I met one or two over the years but
she never seemed to stay with any of them for very long.
She always said she wasn’t the marrying kind.’
‘It’s been a bit of a marathon trying to piece everything together. Some things we knew from when we interviewed Jane’s colleagues at Finchlakers and, once she confessed to murdering Jane, we were able to get the rest from Rachel. It’s a bit of a sordid story, I’m afraid.’
She looks at me, wanting to know if she should go on and I nod, because how can I ever come to terms with it all if I don’t know the reasons behind it? ‘OK, here goes. About two years ago, Rachel had an affair with someone at Finchlakers. He was married with three young children. He ended up leaving his wife for Rachel and, once he had, she lost interest. So he went back to his wife, and Rachel started up the affair again. He left his wife for a second time and it was catastrophic for the family.’ She pauses. ‘The affair ended and this time, his wife wouldn’t take him back. It was especially difficult for her as she also worked for Finchlakers, so she saw him every day. She spiralled into depression and because she was Jane’s best friend, Jane got caught up in it all. Naturally, she hated Rachel with a vengeance for breaking up her friend’s family, not once but twice, but as they worked in different departments their paths didn’t cross very often. However, her opinion of Rachel fell even lower when she came across her having sex in the office late one evening. She confronted Rachel the
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next day, basically telling her to get a hotel in future otherwise she would report her.’
‘Don’t tell me that’s why Rachel killed her,’ I say, giving a hollow laugh. ‘Because she was worried about being reported.’
‘No, Rachel’s world only fell apart when Jane realised the man she’d seen her with in the office was Matthew.
Sorry,’ she says, catching sight of my face. ‘If you need me to stop for now, just say.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s all right, I need to know.’
‘If you’re sure. Do you remember you told us that
you thought Jane had recognised Matthew through
the restaurant window? Well, you were right, she had.’
It seems unfathomable that something I’d made up
was right. It’s so absurd I want to laugh. I don’t know what it was that made me stumble unwittingly on the truth about Jane’s murder. Maybe it was my subconscious – maybe the look of surprise on Jane’s face when she saw Matthew outside the restaurant window that day had registered in my brain as a flash of recognition, maybe her invitation to have coffee at hers had registered as something more than just a casual suggestion to meet up again. Maybe, somewhere deep down, I had known that Matthew and Rachel were having an affair, maybe, somewhere deep down, I had known that Jane was going to tell me. Perhaps it was just pure and simple luck. Or maybe, when I’d sat in the lay-by yesterday and had felt Jane’s presence, she had led me to the truth.