The art of deception Page 28

  He texted her, asking if she was OK. No reply. By two o’clock he was frantic. What was going on? He wondered if perhaps Jack hadn’t gone to the football match after all. But why hadn’t she let him know?

  Another thought struck him. What if Jack had found out? He’d go berserk.

  What if he’d hurt her?

  His hands were sweating, but he told himself there had to be a logical explanation. Best keep calm, not get worked up … but by five o’clock he decided to ring her. He tried her number, and it rang out for minutes before going to voicemail. Why didn’t she answer her phone? Was someone stopping her?

  What if she’d changed her mind because she was frightened of what Jack might do? The speculation was driving him mad; he needed to take action. But first he had to phone his parents.

  His father answered.

  ‘Hi, John, you OK? You sound anxious.’

  ‘Yeah, I am. Sarah’s supposed to be moving in with me and AJ today but she hasn’t turned up. I’m worried her husband has found out about us. He has a history of violence. Can I bring AJ over while I go and sort this out?’

  ‘You need to be careful. I warned you over taking up with her, John, but you wouldn’t listen. You should give her up, or you’ll end up in more trouble than you can handle. If he’s violent, who’s to say he won’t hurt you, too? And you might even lose your son over this if Angie finds out.’

  ‘Dad, this subject isn’t open for discussion. Now, will you help me or not?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘OK, thank you. I’ll see you in twenty minutes.’

  He got AJ ready, making sure he packed extra clothes and nappies.

  When he arrived, his parents were washing up after their dinner.

  ‘I’m sorry for putting on you again,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t worry, love, we’ll look after him. You get off and find out what’s happened to your girlfriend,’ Susan said.

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  ‘Take as long as you need. AJ’s safe with us.’

  ‘And keep us informed, won’t you, John?’ George added.

  ‘I will, and thanks again.’

  pg. 206

  John rushed out and drove over to Sarah’s house. What he’d do when he got there, he had no idea; he would just have to play it by ear.

  The closer he got, the faster his breathing. He didn’t fancy confronting Jack – but if it came to it, so be it. He turned the corner into the road where Sarah lived. Straight away, he saw a blue and white police cordon around the front of the house. His stomach lurched. There were three police cars and an ambulance.

  Officers were everywhere and a large crowd had gathered; some of them looked like TV reporters.

  He parked his car a distance away, got out and walked on shaking legs towards the fracas, deciding his best bet was to mingle with the chattering crowd.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked a middle-aged man who was staring at the house.

  ‘There’s been a murder, mate. Pathologist fella’s just gone in.’

  ‘My God. Who?’

  ‘Woman who lives there, is what people are saying.’

  ‘Jesus …’ he whispered. How he kept himself together was impossible to say, but he did.

  The man continued. ‘You never imagine this happening in your own backyard, do you? Unbelievable – they were a lovely couple, kept themselves to themselves. Friendly, though. Always said hallo with a smile.’

  ‘Is he in there too?’

  ‘Not as far as I know. Someone said he’s gone off to a football match, abroad somewhere. I saw him drive off early this morning, anyway. But I heard a whisper the police will be waiting for him at the airport when he comes back.

  Could be he’s a suspect.’

  ‘Wow! That’s terrible.’

  ‘The cops are asking for witnesses.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope they find the killer.’

  ‘I imagine it’ll be on the news tonight. And in the newspapers tomorrow.

  Not much of a claim to fame, is it, living in a street where a murder’s been committed. The value of the houses here will drop like a stone … Here, you all right, pal? You look terrible.’

  John forced a smile. ‘Yes. Just a bit of indigestion. Anyway, I’d better be off before the law have a go at me for sightseeing!’

  The man laughed and John made a hasty retreat back into his car, where he threw up. Just what he didn’t need. He had nothing except a handkerchief and a few tissues to mop it up. Time to get out of there.

  What if the police came looking for him? After all, he’d sent her a text message, and tried to phone her. What if they suspected he was the murderer?

  What if they found his fingerprints around the house? And if she’d packed her bags before it happened, they’d realise she planned to walk out on her husband.

  This was getting far too incriminating. What should he do? Come clean or lie his pg. 207

  way out of trouble? The thought of spending years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit was horrific. Then he’d never see his son again.

  Somehow, he avoided an accident as he drove back to his parents’ house, blinded by his tears. He took a few minutes to pull himself together.

  He rang the bell, waiting for the door to open. His mum’s eyes widened upon seeing his grief-stricken face.

  ‘Oh my God, what’s happened?’ she asked, ushering him inside.

  He collapsed into her arms. ‘It … it’s Sarah. She’s dead,’ he whispered.

  ‘What? How?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Come on, let’s go into the living room to talk.’

  His parents sat him down, one either side of him on the sofa. He told them everything, leaving nothing out.

  There was a silence.

  George cleared his throat, then spoke. ‘What a mess. Why did you get involved with that woman? It makes no sense.’

  Susan frowned at him. ‘George, now isn’t the time. Go to the police, John.

  And tell them the truth.’

  ‘But what if they charge me with murder?’

  ‘They’ve no evidence and you’ve got an alibi. You were with your baby the whole time until you brought him to us. And by that time Sarah was long dead.’

  ‘Your mum’s right, son. Best go, before they come for you – because they will, eventually. It’ll look better if you go of your own accord. They’ll see you’ve nothing to hide and it could help prove your innocence.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do. But like you say, the police will want to interview me anyway. I haven’t got a choice.’

  ‘Why don’t I come with you? Your dad can look after AJ while we’re away.’

  <><><>

  Together, John and his mother spoke to the duty sergeant in the local police station, only a few hundred yards from where he worked. They were taken to an interview room and within minutes a middle-aged man, tall and thin with a pock-marked face, faced them.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Howe,’ he said. ‘And you are?’

  ‘John Greaves and my mum, Susan Greaves.’

  ‘I understand you may have some information for us.’

  ‘It’s about Sarah Benson, she’s the girl you found dead today.’

  ‘OK, so what can you tell me?’

  John went through everything he had told his parents earlier on. The detective took the details.

  pg. 208

  ‘Very interesting. So, Sarah was leaving her husband for you. That certainly ties in with what we already suspected – there were three bags in the hall. Just as she was about to go, someone disturbed her. We assume this was the person who killed her.’

  ‘Any ideas who it could be?’

  ‘We can’t say yet, sir. We’re still at a very early stage of the investigation.

  But you can rest assured the perpetrator will be brought to justice.’

  John was unsettled by the detective’s hard stare. ‘I only wish I’d gone to her house earlier; I might have
saved her life.’

  ‘We shall never know. Now, if you don’t mind, sir, I’ll get down what you’ve told me in writing. Then I’ll need you to read it and sign it.’

  John grimaced. It would take ages to get this written. But it had to be done.

  When it was done, John read it through. Seeing the details there in black and white suddenly made the nightmare seem real, and his hand shook violently as he signed. He hoped the officer hadn’t noticed.

  ‘OK, thank you, Mr Greaves. We may need to contact you again, so if you could just fill in your address and phone number there at the top, please – and I’d advise you to remain in the country until we can eliminate you from our enquires.’

  John did as he was told.

  ‘That wasn’t so painful, was it?’ his mum said when they got outside.

  ‘No. It wasn’t much fun, but I suppose it could have been worse. I don’t think they’ve finished with me yet, though.’

  ‘We’ll see. Let’s hope they put an end to the matter soon. It’s got to be her husband – it can’t be anyone else.’

  ‘Yes, I think so too.’ He stopped walking and leaned against a wall. ‘But now I’ve lost both of them, Mum. That’s hard to take. How do I recover from that?’

  She squeezed his arm. ‘You will, love. You’re still young – young enough to meet someone else.’

  He couldn’t begin to think about that. And besides, who on earth would want him in this state?

  pg. 209

  Chapter 41

  fter the trauma he’d suffered, John was given two days’ compassionate leave. He grieved for Sarah as he had for Angie when she left him. Thank A God for little AJ, who always brightened his day.

  Early Thursday afternoon, after he’d had a quiet first morning back at work, his mobile beeped. He picked it up casually – then nearly dropped it.

  ‘Angie?’

  ‘Yes, John, it’s me.’

  ‘My God – after all this time …’

  ‘I know … But …’

  ‘So why are you suddenly phoning me now?’

  ‘Because I want to see you, and … and AJ, too.’

  ‘What the … But why?’

  For a few seconds she didn’t speak. Then he could hear her sobbing.

  ‘Angie? Are you OK?’

  ‘No. I hate being alone in my flat, and I miss you. I miss you so much.’

  ‘Is that where you are now?’

  ‘No. I’m visiting Dad.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I phoned in sick, then I felt lonely and miserable and I had no one to talk to.’

  ‘Well, at least you’re not far away.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you have you any idea what you’ve put me through these last few weeks?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ve been awful to you. And AJ.’

  ‘You have. But you were ill, Angie – you still are, by the sound of things.’

  ‘I’m better than I was, but life is difficult. My new job is fine, but I miss Dexford. My fresh start hasn’t come off. That’s why I need you and AJ, John. I must find out if I can take to him now, and if I can, I need you both back in my life – if you’ll have me. I can’t promise you much, but I’ll give it my best shot.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s not a good time right now. My … a friend of mine was murdered on Tuesday.’

  ‘My God, how awful for you. Who?

  ‘A work colleague. You know her, actually – Sarah.’

  ‘How terrible. Yes, of course I remember, we were talking to her at the Christmas do, weren’t we? Isn’t she the one with the football fanatic husband?’

  ‘That’s right. I think the police suspect him, but he seems to have disappeared as well.’

  ‘Incredible what goes on behind closed doors. I can only imagine what you’re going through, but perhaps it would do you good to talk about it. When would be a good time to meet up?’

  pg. 210

  ‘I don’t know, Angie. You hurt me before and I’ve struggled so hard to get over it. I can’t face another upset …’

  ‘You won’t have to, I promise. I want us to be together as a family, if you’ll be patient with me.’

  The agony of losing Sarah gnawed at his mind. But Angie was still his wife, albeit estranged. Should he do this or not?

  ‘All right, I’ll drive over, but if you’ve got me over there on a fool’s errand it’s the last time you’ll ever see me or AJ. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I promise I won’t let you down this time.’

  ‘All right. You say you’re at your dad’s? But where do you work and live now?’ He didn’t want to betray Alan’s confidence.

  ‘In Burnfield – I’m working for Davidson & Co. If you’ve got a pen and paper handy, I’ll give you my address.’

  ‘OK, hang on … go ahead.’

  ‘Flat 5, Borewood House, Penny Street, Burnfield.’

  ‘Thanks, that’s just in case I need to get in touch.’

  ‘Dad said I can use his kitchen to cook you a meal if you can manage it tonight. Say at six o’clock.’

  ‘I’m not sure … I won’t be very good company right now.’

  ‘Well, she was only a work colleague. It’s not like she was family …’

  Christ, if only she knew. ‘I know, but I worked with her for years. It came as such a shock. Surreal to think you knew someone who’s been murdered.’

  ‘I bet. So, will you come or not? It won’t bring her back if you don’t come.’

  ‘You’re right – perhaps I am overreacting. I’ll see you at six, then.’

  ‘And don’t forget to bring the baby. I bet he’s grown.’

  ‘You’ll be surprised.’

  ‘I have to admit I’m nervous about meeting with you, but I must face this, or I’ll live to regret it.’

  ‘I understand. But remember I’m not at my best after what happened to Sarah. So don’t expect miracles.’

  She cried again. ‘I’m not. I am so sorry, John. Can you ever forgive me?’

  ‘We’ll have to wait and see.’

  Once she’d gone, he found his hands were shaking and though he tried hard to stop them, he couldn’t. If Sarah had still been alive, he wouldn’t have considered this for a second, but right now he couldn’t face any more upset.

  After he picked AJ up from his parents’ house – having not breathed a word about his plans for the evening – John dashed home to put everything he needed for a baby in a big bag.

  At five-thirty he started out again. He was glad he hadn’t told his parents.

  The idea of him getting back together with Angie may not appeal to them, but it wasn’t their life – it was his. And he’d do what was best for him and his son, no matter what anyone else said.

  pg. 211

  Because of the rush hour, he got stuck in two traffic jams but finally reached the house just before six. He knew that Alan’s presence would mean they couldn’t talk freely, but perhaps having him there as a buffer would be a good thing.

  He carried the car seat in one hand, the bag with AJ’s things in the other.

  The rain poured down, making him curse. He pressed the doorbell and saw the outline of Angie coming towards them.

  <><><>

  ‘Hallo,’ she said.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Oh, John, thank God you’re here. And AJ too?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. And the baby too, but he was asleep.

  ‘Come through. I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you both.’

  He hung his wet coat over the banister, and she led him through to the living room.

  ‘Drink?’

  ‘Tea, please.’

  ‘Dinner should be ready within half an hour.’

  ‘Smells lovely. What are you cooking?’

  ‘Beef casserole. You always used to say it was one of your favourites.’

  ‘It still is.’

  She went to the kitchen
, her heart racing, and made the tea. And one for her dad too; he was currently in his workshop, repairing a Victorian Welsh dresser.

  ‘Dad!’ she shouted, opening the door above the din of a drill. She showed him the mug, and he nodded, smiling.

  ‘John and AJ are here,’ she said.

  ‘Give me five minutes and I’ll be with you.’

  Angie returned to John, who was feeding the baby.

  ‘Oh, how lovely, he’s awake,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah – must be that racket in the garden.’

  ‘Sorry, you know Dad and his antiques. He’d be in there all day if I let him.’

  John smiled.

  ‘I’ll just see if the dinner’s ready.’

  She opened the oven; the casserole was bubbling away, the roast potatoes were browning nicely. Twenty minutes at the most, she guessed.

  Back in the living room, John had AJ in his arms, the empty bottle on the table.

  pg. 212

  ‘Sorry to hear about Sarah,’ Angie said.

  ‘Thanks. It was a big shock. The police interviewed me – as one of her friends, I mean – which was an ordeal, I can tell you. Reading between the lines, I think they suspect Jack. He has a history of violence, and I heard she was going to leave him because of it.’

  ‘How horrible.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Fifteen minutes later, Alan came in, looking dirty, but grinning. He went over to his grandson.

  He bent towards him. ‘Hallo, son,’ he said. He tickled his grandson’s chin.

  ‘My, he’s grown, hasn’t he? I’ll just get changed – won’t be long.’

  ‘He has, I hardly recognised him,’ Angie chuckled. ‘I’ll dish up.’

  John put AJ in the bouncer, then sat at the table.

  Angie divided the casserole into three and brought the plates in.

  ‘Looks delicious,’ John said.

  ‘Well, they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach …’

  ‘I couldn’t say, but it certainly helps.’

  ‘Hope you don’t mind Dad being here.’

  ‘No, not at all. We’ll talk later.’

  She smiled. ‘Let’s wait for him – it’s bad manners to start without him.’