The journey to Wapentake along the winding main road should only have taken ten or fifteen minutes, but I got stuck behind a tractor that threw chunks of mud off its wheels and onto my car. The landscape either side of the road was identical: a deep drainage dyke; fields of rich earth with strips of some kind of membrane or plastic over the top that looked like stripes of water; the odd hedge or cluster of trees; and an occasional huddle of houses around a church. Everything monotonously flat. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere where I couldn’t see what was coming from miles away.
At the police station, I asked to see DS Devonport. After ten long minutes or more she finally came down and led me to a quiet side room.
I leaned forward, febrile enthusiasm radiating off me while relating the whole conversation I’d had with Alison Daughtrey-Drew.
‘Don’t you see?’ I finished. ‘It means she’s lied about her whereabouts that night. It means she saw my daughter, and must have been close by, too, not from a distance.’
DS Devonport looked perplexed by my logic, so I spelled it out for her. The whole huge platform thing – that was the only way you could have been tall enough to look Alison in the eye. The fact that you had never worn those bloody stupid boots before.
‘To your knowledge,’ the detective said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘To your knowledge, Beth had never worn those boots before. But, Mrs Oak, Melanie, you didn’t realise she was wearing them that night, either.’ She was doing her special leaning forward at an angle thing again, her head on one side in just the right place to be sincere and not patronising. Which made it all the more patronising.
I spluttered, trying to think of a reply. ‘That’s… not… the point. The soles weren’t worn, so that night must have been the first time Beth had put them on.’
‘You must stop telling us what to do, Mrs Oak. You’re upset. You need to concentrate on Beth.’
‘Don’t tell me how to be a parent!’ I jumped up, the chair’s legs screaming their own protest across the floor.
DS Devonport smoothed her skirt then met me with her steady gaze again. ‘We will look into this. At some point. Right now we’re following up some other leads that—’
‘Oh, “other leads”. You always say that, but nothing ever comes of it, does it? As far as I can tell you’re twiddling your thumbs,’ I shouted, and stormed from the room.
No matter what anyone said, I knew I was on the right track at last. After that conversation it was clear no one, not even the police, could be trusted to find your attacker, Beth. It was down to me. I would never listen to anyone who told me to stop. I would never give up.
Sixty-Five
The frenzy grew inside me. The only thing keeping me under control was how well my plans were advancing. My next target was lined up; it was simply a matter of time.
My previous victim had run like a frightened rabbit, but there had been nowhere for her to hide beneath that huge moon. Chasing her down had been exhilarating. She had been well worth the long months I had invested in coming up with the perfect plan, the time spent carefully putting everything into place beforehand, grooming my unsuspecting little helper. My mask of normality hadn’t slipped once the entire time.
I needed to feel that power, for someone to stare into my eyes and know they were about to die. Not much longer now. Just a tiny bit more patience.
Sixty-Six
I couldn’t go home. I was too furious, too desperate to prove I was right and the police were wrong. Tears threatened to overwhelm me, but I smashed my fist against the steering wheel until they subsided, the car wobbling dangerously across the road. There was too much to do to give in to my emotions and fears. I would do that once you were better and this nightmare was over.
With no clue of what to do next, I found myself driving once more past James Harvey’s house. Let the car crawl along the crescent of road, rounding the corner just in time to see Alison getting out of her car and opening her boot. She must be going to see her boyfriend; so she really had been telling the truth about that. Rooting around in the boot, she didn’t see me edging by, but I craned my neck to take a good look at her. She was rearranging a bag. An overnight bag? No, a plastic one. Stuffing a coat into it. A black, padded coat with distinctive reflective chevrons on the front and back.
Your coat, Beth.
Adrenaline punched through me, making me shake as I put the car into gear. In my eagerness, I stamped on the accelerator harder than I should have. As I sped away, in my rear-view mirror I saw Alison turn and watch me go.
Racing along the streets, I was barely keeping to the speed limit, screaming in frustration at red lights. Finally I was back at the police station, sprinting up the steps, then demanding to see DS Devonport again. When she appeared, her eyes were hard, but I didn’t pause to let her get a word in.
‘I’ve got proof that Alison Daughtrey-Drew and James Harvey hurt Beth. You’ve never found my daughter’s coat, have you? That’s because Alison has it in her car. If you go now, right now, to James’s house, you’ll find it in her boot.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Absolutely!’
My heart was pounding as the detective grabbed another member of her team and sped to her car. I followed behind, feeling as if I were flying. At last, we were getting somewhere! I’d get justice for you, Beth, and everything would be okay.
At the flat, there was no sign of Alison’s car, though. And no answer from James’s flat. I shrieked my frustration into the air.
‘Mrs Oak, go home. We’re going to Alison’s house,’ DS Devonport ordered.
No chance. I hung back for ten minutes, then followed. I wanted to be there to see Alison and James arrested.
A smile played on my face as I pulled over onto the verge and crept up the Daughtrey-Drew’s sweeping drive.
Alison doubled over in tears. James in handcuffs, face ashen. DS Devonport reading them their rights.
That was the tableau of my imagination. Instead, Alison looked furious, the detective apologetic. There was no sign at all of James.
‘What’s going on?’ I demanded.
Ellen Devonport didn’t appear surprised to see me, but from the way she ran her hand through her hair and sighed, she was exasperated.
I didn’t care.
‘Well? Why haven’t you arrested her?’ My finger impaled the air in front of Alison.
‘Mrs Oak, calm down. We’ve checked the coat in Miss Daughtrey-Drew’s car. It isn’t Beth’s.’
‘I saw it. It’s identical to my daughter’s.’
‘Mrs Oak!’ Alison’s voice cut the air. ‘Here. Take a look yourself.’ She held up a jacket. Black, padded.
I took it, shaking my head.
‘No, this isn’t the one I saw. It had chevrons on it. Reflective strips. It was Beth’s coat.’