Where the Memories Lie
By: Sibel Hodge
DS Khan parked in the car park overlooking Chesil Beach, and they both spun around in their seats to look at me. I felt nervous and cramped in the small space, like a prisoner trapped in a cell.
‘I’ll get us a coffee, shall I?’ DS Khan nodded her head towards a van parked in the corner, selling ice creams and hot dogs. ‘What would you like?’ she asked me.
‘What?’ I said, trying to concentrate while my mind was reeling.
‘Do you want a tea instead?’
‘Oh, um, coffee’s fine, thanks.’
‘Back in a minute.’ Her lips pursed into a flat, serious line.
‘How did she die? Could you tell from . . . from what was . . .’
I trailed off.
‘She had a fractured skull.’
‘Oh.’
‘You mentioned before that Katie had said something you thought was odd before she left home. Can you tell me again what it was?’
‘Um, yes. She said “If he thinks I’m going to fuck him again, he can fuck off”, and then she said, “I’ve got something he wants and I’m going to make him pay”.’
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‘You’re positive about that? After all this time?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did Katie ever mention to you sleeping with Chris after he broke off their relationship?’
‘No.’
‘Did Chris?’
‘No. In fact, he told me the other day that he definitely hadn’t.’
‘Did Katie ever mention sleeping with Tom?’
‘No.’
He was silent for a while before adding, ‘Katie was pregnant when she died. About six months.’
I sat back, stunned, as if he’d slapped me. ‘Well, I wasn’t expect-ing that.’ I thought about Anna and all the miscarriages I’d had.
How badly I’d wanted a child of my own. Katie had been about to become a mother, too. Why hadn’t she said anything? Then it hit me. The baggy tops she’d been wearing, the toned-down look. She wasn’t trying to reinvent herself as someone dowdy and frumpy at all after her break-up with Chris; it wasn’t a sign of depression. She’d been trying to hide her pregnancy.
DS Khan returned with two cardboard cups and a bottle of water. She handed me the coffee and I took it vacantly.
‘Is that was she was talking about, then, when she said she had something he wanted?’ I said. ‘She was going to make him pay for the baby? She hadn’t really stolen something – she was talking about the baby?’
‘It’s likely.’ DS Khan unscrewed her bottle of water and took a sip.
‘Six months? Wow. But Chris can’t have kids, anyway. It’s why his wife left him. They were trying for ages, but . . . well, his sperm count is too low.’
‘That could’ve changed over the years. We still need to be sure.
To rule him out as the father we’ll be running DNA tests on a 192
Where the Memories Lie sample he provided earlier, along with a sample recovered from Tom’s body.’
‘Right.’
‘Chris was apparently the last person to see her alive.’ DI Spencer took a sip of his coffee and watched me carefully. ‘If the baby is his, that could point our investigation in a new direction.’
A sudden chill sliced deep inside of me. ‘You think Chris could have killed her?’
They didn’t answer.
‘But if that was the case, why did Tom confess? He knew where she was buried – he told me!’
‘He also told you he was protecting his family. It’s possible that meant he was covering up for somebody. We need to explore all possibilities at the moment. We can’t trust Tom’s confession because of the Alzheimer’s. We’ve checked his medical records and, as you know, he suffered from a considerable amount of confusion in the end. We need to follow certain procedures. Dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.’ DI Spencer shifted in his seat.
‘But what about Jack? If he was abusing Katie, could the baby be his?’
‘We spoke to Rose, who denied any knowledge of any abuse going on.’
‘Well, I suppose she would, wouldn’t she?’
‘We have no DNA of Jack’s to compare any sample to. And the only two people who know for certain whether any abuse happened are dead. But we think if it was Jack’s baby, Katie would’ve more than likely had a termination.’