Read The Breakdown Page 25

13 Aug 15.54

  Wish I could see you

  13 Aug 15.54

  No. You don’t

  13 Aug 16.48

  Guess who’s come to Castle Wells?

  Was just about to leave when she arrived in multi-storey Following her now, I have an idea

  Is there spare key for her car?

  13 Aug 16.49

  Yes, at home, why?

  13 Aug 16.50

  You know she has phobia about not finding her car We could make it happen

  13 Aug 16.51

  How?

  13 Aug 16.51

  If you can get away, you could come here and move her car to another floor

  She’s parked on 4th

  13 Aug 16.51

  You’re a genius

  Leaving now, hope I get there in time

  13 Aug 16.51

  I’ll keep you posted

  13 Aug 17.47

  I’m here, where is she?

  13 Aug 17.47

  Wandering around town

  13 Aug 17.47

  Shall I move car?

  13 Aug 17.48

  May as well. Can’t imagine she’ll stay much longer

  Put it on top floor

  13 Aug 17.48

  OK

  13 Aug 18.04

  She’s on her way back, have you moved it?

  She just bumped into that girl from her work, Connie I think

  13 Aug 18.04

  Yes, sitting in car on top floor

  Keep an eye on her so I can move it if she comes up here

  Let me know what’s happening

  13 Aug 18.14

  So funny to watch

  She’s looking everywhere for it

  On 5th floor at moment

  Feel almost sorry for her

  13 Aug 18.14

  Do you think she’ll come up here?

  13 Aug 18.16

  No, going down again

  13 Aug 18.19

  What’s happening?

  13 Aug 18.21

  On ground floor, think she’s going to office to tell them she can’t find car

  13 Aug 18.21

  Shall I move it back to 4th

  13 Aug 18.21

  Yes!

  13 Aug 18.24

  Have you done it?

  She’s on way up with attendant, waiting for lift

  13 Aug 18.25

  Yes, not in exactly same place though, couple of spaces along

  13 Aug 18.25

  Don’t think it will matter

  You better get going

  13 Aug 18.26

  Already gone

  I’m going to call her to ask where she is, pretend I’m at home

  13 Aug 23.48

  Hi, how did it go?

  13 Aug 23.49

  Put it this way

  She won’t be opening champagne again any time soon

  13 Aug 23.49

  ☺

  Suddenly hungry, because I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, I stop at a service station and buy myself a sandwich and something to drink. I eat quickly, impatient to be home. I get back onto the dual carriageway, intending to stay on it all the way home but, five minutes later, without really knowing why, I find myself turning left, down the road to the woods, the one that will take me home via Blackwater Lane. I don’t worry too much about it, deciding to let fate take me where it will. After all, it had allowed me to find the phone. What were the chances of the French student taking it from Rachel’s bag as she pushed past him? What were the chances of one of his friends having a crisis of conscience and handing it to me? I’ve never thought of myself as particularly spiritual but, yesterday, somebody somewhere was looking out for me.

  Blackwater Lane looks nothing like it did the last time I drove down it. The trees that line the road are a riot of autumnal colours and the fact there are no other cars around make it peaceful, not threatening. When I get to the lay-by where Jane’s car was parked, I slow down and pull in. After turning off the engine, I wind down my window and sit for a while, letting the light breeze fill the car. And I feel that Jane is with me. Even though the murderer still hasn’t been caught, for the first time since her death, I feel at peace.

  I’d intended to go back to the house, take Rachel’s phone from under the orchid and hand it to the police, but if I’ve been brought to this spot it must be for a reason. So I close my eyes and think of Jane, and of how Matthew and Rachel, without conscience, used her murder to get to me.

  18 Jul 15.15

  How are you?

  18 Jul 15.16

  Fine. How come you’re calling at this time?

  18 Jul 15.16

  I’m out. Told her I was going to the gym

  Need to keep up appearances

  Don’t want her to question why I’m not going any more

  18 Jul 15.16

  Wish you were on your way to me, like before

  18 Jul 15.16

  Me too. Do you know how much I miss you?

  18 Jul 15.16

  I think I can guess ☺

  And we’re not going to be seeing each other tonight

  18 Jul 15.16

  Just as well, would want to kiss you

  But why not?

  18 Jul 15.17

  Susie’s cancelled her party

  You know the woman who was murdered? She worked in our company

  18 Jul 15.17

  Seriously?

  18 Jul 15.17

  Just phoned C to tell her, she went into meltdown

  Turns out she had lunch with her recently

  18 Jul 15.18

  What? Are you sure? The murdered woman?

  18 Jul 15.18

  Yes. She met her at that leaving party I took her to a month back

  And they arranged to have lunch

  Jane Walters

  18 Jul 15.19

  I remember! I met Cass at the restaurant after the lunch She said she was meeting a new friend, Jane

  18 Jul 15.19

  That was her

  18 Jul 15.19

  God, she’ll be even more upset now

  She’s really nervous about murderer on the loose

  18 Jul 15.20

  Good maybe we can use it

  18 Jul 23.33

  Didn’t know you had argument with murdered woman Cass told me

  18 Jul 23.34

  She nicked my parking space

  18 Jul 23.34

  She got what she deserved then

  18 Jul 23.35

  God, you really are a cold-hearted bastard!

  18 Jul 23.35

  Not where you’re concerned

  You do know you’re the one for me, don’t you?

  18 Jul 23.35

  ☺

  *

  24 Jul 23.40

  The murder has really got to her, she doesn’t want to be on own while I’m away

  Told her to invite you round

  24 Jul 23.40

  Thanks!

  24 Jul 23.40

  Need to keep it genuine

  You refuse, of course

  24 Jul 23.41

  Can’t believe she’s so frightened

  24 Jul 23.41

  Good for us that she is

  *

  28 Jul 09.07

  Good morning!

  28 Jul 09.07

  You sound chirpy. What’s up?

  28 Jul 09. 08

  C phoned to ask me if I’d just called her

  She sounded jittery so said no for the fun of it

  28 Jul 09.08

  Is that it?

  28 Jul 09.08

  Same thing happened yesterday except it wasn’t me Played it down, told her probably a call centre

  28 Jul 09.08

  Still don’t get it

  28 Jul 09.09

  Thought I could do it again tomorrow. And day after Make her think she has stalker

  28 Jul 09.09

  Brilliant!

  28 Jul 09.09

  Thought you’d
be pleased

  *

  05 Aug 23.44

  Had a good day?

  05 Aug 23.57

  Sorry, was in shower

  05 Aug 23.57

  Lovely thought

  05 Aug 23.58

  ☺ Day not bad, how about you?

  05 Aug 23.58

  Nothing exciting but just thought

  Do I silent call tomorrow as I’ll be at home

  05 Aug 23. 58

  If you don’t she’ll guess it’s you

  05 Aug 23.59

  Or could think she/house is being watched

  05 Aug 23.59

  Paranoia is good so go for it

  Thinking of those text messages makes me so angry I’m determined to find a way of avenging Jane. I go back over every little thing that has happened since that fateful night. And, suddenly, I know exactly what to do.

  I leave the lay-by and drive home quickly, praying that I won’t find Matthew or Rachel’s car parked in the drive. There’s no sign of anyone but I look around carefully as I get out of the car. I let myself into the house. As I’m turning the alarm off the phone starts ringing. I see from the number that it’s Matthew, so I pick up.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘At last!’ His agitation is clear. ‘Have you been out?’

  ‘No, I’ve been in the garden. Why? Have you been calling?’

  ‘Yes, I tried to get you a few times.’

  ‘Sorry, I decided to clear the far end of the garden, by the hedge. I’ve just come in for a cup of tea.’

  ‘You’re not going out again, are you?’

  ‘I hadn’t intended to. Why?’

  ‘I thought I might take the afternoon off, spend a bit of time with you.’

  My heart rate speeds up. ‘That will be lovely,’ I say calmly.

  ‘I’ll see you in an hour then.’

  I hang up, my mind racing, wondering why he’s decided to take the afternoon off. Maybe he, or Rachel, has managed to trace the group of French students who were in the pub last night and know I have the phone. If the students are staying at the college in Castle Wells it wouldn’t be difficult to find out their whereabouts today. I’ve been lucky so far but, despite what I told Rachel, I can’t count on them being already on their way back to France.

  I hurry out to the garden, hoping Matthew won’t have moved the knife from where Rachel left it that day. The cushions from the garden chairs have already been put away for the winter, stacked in a neat pile at the back of the shed. I move them aside and find myself face to face, not with a knife, but with an expresso machine. It takes me all of five seconds to work out that it’s the one that used to stand in our kitchen, the one where the capsule slotted in without the need to lift a lever. I search a little further and, under an old garden table, covered with a sheet, I find a box with a picture of a microwave on the front and, when I open it, I find our old microwave inside, the previous model of the one that now stands on our kitchen counter. I want to howl with rage at how easy it was for Matthew to dupe me but I’m scared that I won’t be able to stop, that all the emotions I’ve been keeping inside me since Rachel’s phone was handed to me yesterday afternoon will come spilling out, leaving me incapable of carrying on. So I take my anger out on the microwave, kicking it over and over again, first with my right foot and then with my left. And when my anger has gone and all that is left is immense sorrow, I set it aside for another day, and get on with what I have to do.

  It takes me a few minutes more to find the knife, stuffed into a flowerpot at the back of the shed, wrapped in a tea towel that I recognise as belonging to Rachel, because I have an identical one, brought back from a trip to New York. It might not be the knife used in Jane’s murder but I still feel sick looking at it. Without touching it, I wrap it up again quickly and put it back where I found it. By tonight it will be over, I tell myself, by tonight it will all be over.

  I go back into the house and stand for a moment, wondering if I’m really going to be able to do it. And because there’s only one way to find out I go through to the hall, pick up the phone and dial the police.

  ‘Could you come please?’ I say. ‘I live near to where the murder took place and I’ve just found a large kitchen knife hidden in my garden shed.’

  They arrive before Matthew, which is what I wanted. There are two of them this time: PC Lawson, who I’ve already met, and her male colleague, PC Thomas. I make sure I look shaken but not hysterical. I tell them where the knife is and PC Thomas goes straight out to the garden shed.

  ‘You don’t think it’s the murder weapon that you’ve been looking for in connection with Jane Walters’ murder, do you?’ I ask PC Lawson anxiously, in case it hasn’t occurred to her that it might be. ‘It hasn’t been found yet, has it?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t say,’ she says.

  ‘It’s just that I sort of knew her.’

  She looks at me in surprise. ‘You knew Jane Walters?’

  ‘Only a little. We got chatting at a party and then we had lunch together.’

  She gets out her notebook. ‘When was that?’

  ‘Let me think – it must have been about two weeks before she died.’

  PC Lawson frowns. ‘We asked her husband for a list of her friends but your name wasn’t on it.’

  ‘As I said, I was a new friend.’

  ‘And how did she seem when you met her for lunch?’

  ‘Fine. Just normal.’

  We’re interrupted by PC Thomas coming back with the knife, held gingerly in his gloved hands, still partly wrapped in the tea towel.

  ‘Is this what you found?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you tell us how you found it?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I was gardening and I needed some flower pots to plant some bulbs in. I knew I’d find some in the shed because that’s where Matthew – my husband – keeps them. I picked up a big one and there was a tea towel in the bottom and as I took it out I could feel there was something wrapped inside. I started to unwrap it and, when I saw the serrated blade and realised it was a knife, I was so scared that I quickly wrapped it up again – it reminded me of the one I’d seen on television in relation to the Jane Walters murder, you see. So I put it back and phoned you.’

  ‘Do you recognise the tea towel?’ he asks.

  I nod slowly. ‘A friend brought it back from New York for me.’

  ‘But you’ve never seen this knife before.’

  I hesitate. ‘I think I might have.’

  ‘Other than on the television,’ PC Lawson says kindly.

  I don’t blame her for thinking I’m a bit thick after the fiasco with the alarm and the mug. And for the moment it suits me to let her think that I am because if I let slip certain pieces of information which might – well – incriminate Matthew, it won’t seem malicious. ‘Yes, other than on the television,’ I say. ‘It was about a month ago, on a Sunday. I went into the kitchen to stack the dishwasher before going to bed and it was lying on the side.’

  ‘This knife?’ the policeman asks.

  ‘Possibly. I only saw it quickly because by the time I called Matthew to come and see it, it had gone.’

  ‘Gone?’

  ‘Yes, it wasn’t there any more. Instead, there was a small kitchen knife lying in its place. But I knew I’d seen a much bigger knife and I was really frightened. I wanted to phone you but Matthew said it was just my mind playing tricks.’

  ‘Can you run through exactly what you saw that night, Mrs Anderson?’ PC Lawson asks, going back to her notebook.

  I nod. ‘As I said, I went through to the kitchen to load the dishwasher and, as I bent down to put the plates in, I saw a huge knife lying on the side. It wasn’t one I’d seen before – we don’t have any like that – and I got such a fright that all I could think of was getting out of the kitchen as quickly as possible so I ran into hall and began screaming for Matthew—’

  ‘Where was your husband at this point?’ sh
e interrupts.

  I wrap my arms around my body, pretending nervousness. She smiles at me encouragingly so I take a deep breath. ‘He’d gone up to bed before me so he was upstairs. He came running down and I told him there was a huge knife on the side in the kitchen. I could see that he didn’t believe me. I asked him to call you because I’d seen a photograph of the knife that was used in the murder and it looked exactly the same, so I was terrified the murderer was somewhere in the garden, or even in the house. But Matthew said he wanted to see the knife first so he came down to the kitchen and then he called me to come and look. And when I looked, the big knife had gone and there was a little kitchen knife lying in its place.’

  ‘Did your husband go all the way into the kitchen or did he stay in the doorway?’

  ‘I don’t really remember. I think he stayed in the doorway but I’m afraid I was a little hysterical at that point.’

  ‘What did your husband do next?’

  ‘He made a show of looking round the kitchen for the knife but I knew he was just humouring me. And when he didn’t find it, he said I must have been mistaken.’

  ‘And did you think you were mistaken?’

  I shake my head vigorously. ‘No.’

  ‘So what did you think had happened?’

  ‘I thought that the big knife was there but that someone had come in through the back door while I was telling Matthew about it and swapped it for a kitchen knife. I know it sounds stupid but that’s what I believed and that’s what I still believe.’

  PC Lawson nods. ‘Can you tell us where you and your husband were on the night of the seventeenth of July?’

  ‘Yes, it was the last day of term – I’m a teacher at Castle Wells High – and I went to a wine bar with some of my colleagues from the school where I worked. There was a storm that night.’

  ‘And your husband?’

  ‘He was here, at home.’

  ‘By himself ?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What time did you get back?’

  ‘It must have been about eleven forty-five.’

  ‘And your husband was here?’

  ‘He was asleep in the spare bedroom. He phoned me as I was leaving Castle Wells to tell me he had a migraine and was going to sleep in the spare room so that I wouldn’t disturb in when I came in.’

  ‘Did he say anything else?’

  ‘Just that I wasn’t to come home by Blackwater Lane. He said there was a storm coming and I should stick to the main road.’

  She exchanges a glance with PC Thomas. ‘So when you got home, your husband was asleep in the spare room.’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t go and check on him because the door was closed and I didn’t want to disturb him but he must have been there.’ I put a puzzled look on my face. ‘I mean, where else would he have been?’