A Journal of Sin (26 page)

‘Hopefully I’ll be home tonight for that hug. I best get on. Love you so much.’

‘Can’t wait to see you.’

She hung up and rocked back in the chair. She was lucky to have him. In truth, she had it all. Beautiful children, a husband who loved her and the occasional screen print sale on Etsy. She’d always wanted to run her own business, so maybe now was the time to do it. He’d support her until she was an Internet millionaire. It’d be tough at the start, but once it took off, it’d be a nice life. Mum would be happy too. It’s not often you got kicked in the head selling screen prints.

There wasn’t much to pack. She’d planned for two weeks of sitting indoors and was looking forward to clean clothes, a warm shower and a night in her own bed. She wrapped her delicates in her jumpers and packed them at the bottom. The last thing to go into the bag was a photo of Mark, Ellie and Soph. They were sitting on the beach. He was holding a mostly melted ice cream and the girls were building a sandcastle, Soph taking the initiative as usual, with Ellie preferring to watch for the most part. It wasn’t the best photograph. She’d taken it with her back to the sun, casting her shadow over her family. Still, it was her favourite picture and she never went to sleep without it by her bedside.

She double locked the door as she left. Her trolley case fitted nicely into the boot of the car. One of the access roads had now fully opened, so after checking in on Amy, she’d be able to drive straight home, glad to see Sunbury in her rear-view mirror.

‘Hi Steve, can I come in?’

‘Yes, of course. How have you been? I hear you caught the killer?’

‘Well, we’ve brought someone in for questioning. There’s quite a way to go yet.’

‘How about a cup of tea?’ Steve held up two mugs. ‘You must want a cup of tea after all that hard work.’

‘That would be lovely. Thanks.’ He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Sarah sat in the lounge surrounded by photos of the couple and their dogs. ‘Is Amy about?’

‘No, she’s taken the dogs for a walk. Shouldn’t be long. Do you want me to call her back?’ He brought the tea through into the living room and set it down on a coaster in front of her. It was a perfect deep ochre.

‘If you would. It’s about what happens from here on in.’ Steve was already dialling. She drank her tea and wondered how she ever did without it.

‘She’s on her way back. So, John eh? He was always a bit of a recluse. Unassuming, but then once something like this happens, it makes you think, yeah, I could see that all along.’

‘You just never know. He’s still being questioned, so no charges have been brought as yet. DS Dales just wanted me to come over whilst I was still here to explain the court process and offer Amy as much support as possible. How has she been?’

He sat down on the sofa opposite. ‘She’s getting better. During the day, at least. She’s been waking up sweating in the middle of the night, having nightmares about it. But, during the day, she’s getting back to normality. She wanted to take the dogs out today to see how she felt. She’s a very strong person. Very determined.’

‘And she has you for support. She’s lucky for that.’ His expression made Sarah think he wasn’t used to receiving praise. ‘The trial will be difficult. Have either of you been to court before?’ He shook his head. ‘We provide some support services to help her through and you’ll be kept informed every step of the way regarding trial dates and if he enters an early guilty plea.’

‘That’d be nice. I can’t imagine being in a witness box is an enjoyable experience.’

A key turned in the lock and the dogs barked from the hallway.

‘Hello? Steve, could you close the lounge door? I’ll take them straight through the back. I don’t want their muddy paws all over the couch.’

He closed the door and the barking moved from the hallway to the rear of the house and disappeared into the garden. Amy was a little out of breath.

‘Hello again. I’ll continue the walk later, Steve. They both could really do with the exercise.’ Her tone changed as she looked at Sarah. She knew it wasn’t a social call. The last time they’d spoken, she had to recall details about the most horrific moment of her life. A moment that had stayed with her for days and was likely to repeat itself in her mind for a long time to come. Steve went into the kitchen to make her a cup of tea and leave them to it.

‘Hi Amy. How have you been?’ Sarah knew the answer already and felt a little patronising asking it, but she wanted to know directly from her, so she could get the best understanding of what she was going through.

‘It’s been tough. I’ve had terrible nightmares. I wake up every night, sweating and screaming. Sometimes I don’t know where I am. I think I’m in the woods, for a few moments at least.’

‘What happens in the nightmares?’

‘I’m walking barefoot through the woods. The ground’s damp and it’s pitch black. All of a sudden someone’s grabbing me. My neck, my arms and legs. Pairs of hands grabbing me all over. It’s horrible.’ She curled up on the sofa and couldn’t look at Sarah. Sarah moved over, sat next to her and handed her some tissues.

‘That will all stop in time. It may not seem like it now, but it will. Taking the dogs out again is a good start. Trying to get back to a normal routine will help.’

‘I feel so useless. It was only a dead body and I’m a wreck. You must see dead bodies all the time, and worse, but you just get up every day and head back to work. I can’t even deal with something like this once.’

Father Michael’s bloodied testicles flashed into her mind. Sarah was unlikely to see anything that gruesome for a long time. ‘It doesn’t get any easier. It’s a part of the job I find really difficult. Police officers develop thick skins, ways to cope or we go crazy. Or we leave. Find something else, something less challenging, something safer. What happened to you is different. We’re trained for it and you just stumbled upon it. That makes it all the harder.’

‘I know I couldn’t do your job.’

‘Sometimes, I think the same thing.’

‘I don’t believe that for a second.’ Amy smiled as she wiped her eyes. Sarah looked at the clock, but she was in no hurry to go. What she had waiting wasn’t going anywhere and, if delivering this message was to be her last job as a police officer, she wanted to do the best she could for this poor woman.

‘You know what? How about we finish up walking the dogs together? I used to have a spaniel was I was younger. Harvey. Not a great name for a spaniel, I admit, but he was adorable. I still miss him now.’

‘I know how it feels to lose a pet. It’s heartbreaking. Like losing a family member. Arthur became so lonely without his brother; he wouldn’t leave the house unless we had another dog with us. Let’s do it. It’d be nice to have some girly company. I’ll just put my boots on.’ Amy walked into the garden and called the dogs in.

‘Arthur! Jessie! They’re full of beans this morning.’ Sarah stood in the hallway as a brown dachshund and a Yorkshire terrier came bounding in from the kitchen. She instantly recognised one from the photo on the wall and the other having once salivated all over her wedding ring. Amy reached down and picked her up. ‘And this little lady sniffed out the body. She may well be a police dog one day.’

‘Sarah, listen to me, you’re not thinking this through.’ Dales’ voice was background noise blaring on the speakerphone from the passenger seat. ‘This needs to be run by Emmit.’ Her car squealed as she turned it in and out of Sunbury’s winding roads. The Yaris wasn’t made for this kind of driving and it made no secret of telling her. If she didn’t get there in time, he could be gone and the decision to round him up would be the subject of a long-winded decision-making process. She thought about Anne. Bringing in Tom would give her respite, time to think, and maybe she’d even be able to break through to her, to convince her to make a complaint about how she’d been treated.

‘He’s the one mentioned in the notes and his dog had the scent of the body. It was Tom’s dog that ran through the woods to where the body was. Amy said Anne specifically told her to walk them in the woods; she knew Jessie would take the scent.’

‘Are you going to put the dog in the box? Come on, think this through. We’ve just issued a press release saying we’re not looking for anyone else in connection with the murder.’

Gripping the steering wheel stopped her hands from shaking. She knew who the killer was. She’d spoken to him, felt that unexplainable feeling that all coppers cultivate and knew he had to be brought in. It wasn’t something that could be felt in strategy meetings and from intelligence reports. She’d been on the ground and her gut told her that she couldn’t leave town without acting on her hunch.

‘At least wait for us to get to you.’

‘He’ll be gone, Sarge. He’s been checking the roads every day since the rain’s stopped. He’s going to be gone before you get here.’

‘They’ll take your job for this. You know that? You’ve still got a chance to hang on –’

She hung up.

Tom’s car was parked outside. She pulled up, put her cuffs in one pocket and her spray in the other. Wearing the full kit belt would give away the reason she was there and he’d slam the door in her face. The door was too thick to kick in, so she banged on it until Tom answered.

‘Officer? A rather obnoxious way to announce your arrival, isn’t it?’

She was still on the doorstep. If he shut the door now, she wouldn’t be getting in. He was a big guy and she wouldn’t win a straight fight with his weight behind the door.

‘I need to speak to you inside. It’s important.’

‘Well it’s not a good time. You’ll have to come back. Oh, and well done on catching your man. Keep that one locked up for as long as you can.’ He started to close the door and she put her hand up to stop it.

‘I need to speak to you now.’

He knew. He knew why she was there and his veil of confidence fell. He swallowed hard, looked weak and exposed, but within half a second, his eyes narrowed and chin lowered. Sarah lunged forward, slamming shoulder first into the door. Tom braced for it and pushed back, trying to close it. She wedged herself between the door and frame, lowering her body, lunging one leg back to create a strong base. He forced the edge of the door into her upper arm as she gritted her teeth in pain. Neither moved and, if she didn’t act soon, he’d squeeze her out, closing the door and leaving no way to get back through it anytime soon. The pain spread from her arms to her chest as he pushed all his weight against the door.

‘Just give up. You’re not getting in. You’re too weak and there’s no one to help you.’ He tried to force her out, break her will whilst crushing her body. She twisted slightly, freeing her enough to reach through the gap. The movement caused even more pain in her arm, but she managed to grip his hand and squeeze a pressure point near his thumb. She dug her fingertip into the fleshy part until he squealed in pain. The momentary lapse allowed her to push the door open. The relief of the pressure made the pain all the worse. She took advantage of his momentary disorientation by grabbing his wrist and thrusting her open palm against the back of his elbow, turning his arm and doubling him over at the waist. He pulled free before she was able to fully apply the lock and shoved her through the living room door. She fell backwards onto the floor, the impact adding to the pain. She breathed hard.

He stalked into the lounge and stood over her, looking taller and broader than ever, and once again, that smug look spread across his face. He took off his belt. ‘You’ve come a little underdressed. No stab vest? No weapons?’

They weren’t alone. A low mumble came from the armchair across the room. Anne slumped in the chair, her face black with bruises. She said something, but Sarah couldn’t make out what. Tom looked over at her and back down to Sarah.

‘You like her so much, I’m going to make you look like her.’ He coiled the buckle end of his belt around his fist and left the rest to hang. Sarah pulled out her spray and flicked open the safety top, thumb poised on the red button. He kicked it out of her hand, sending it flying across the room and hitting the far wall. A small amount discharged above her making her cough and splutter. If any got into her eyes, she’d be blinded and defenceless. She rolled over, trying to escape the fumes. Her hand throbbed with pain as she tried to stand up, and she stumbled onto the arm of the sofa. He grabbed her hair and forced her head into the cushions. She struggled to breathe and coughed up phlegm as her body rejected the pepper spray. He lay on top of her from behind, hips pressing into hers, close enough to breathe into her ear. His breath smelt of cigars and sour milk. She thrust her pelvis into his hips, creating space between her and the sofa.

‘Ahh, you know what’s good for you, I see.’ He writhed against her, pulled her up by the hair and turned her head towards Anne. ‘I did that after your last visit. You pissed me off so much, I took it out on her face. Do you like it?’

She took in as much air as she could, knowing that any second he’d force her down into the cushions again. He yanked her hair up by the roots. She launched her elbow into his ribs as hard as she could. She kept thrusting back – three, four, five times – all the while contorting her body with every extra inch her elbows bought her. She rotated her hips, turning on her back, and raised her knee into his stomach. Pushing up with her knee and plunging her back into the sofa gave her enough space to reach into her right pocket with her left hand, grip the black handle of her cuffs and smash the metal edge into his cheekbone. He held his face and she slammed the cuffs into his jaw again, aiming to come right through the other side. He fell onto the floor and she rolled on top of him, grabbed his arm, twisted him around and cuffed him behind his back. Tight.

‘What are you doing?’ He scowled in pain, but refused to let out a shout or scream.

‘You’re under arrest on suspicion of murder.’ She looked at Anne, still sitting there, motionless. ‘And the assault of Anne Bletchford.’

‘Oh, please. Just fuck off, you stupid little girl. You can’t pin that on me.’ He tried to laugh, but winced in pain. He writhed on the floor and tried to stand up; she pushed him back down. After his third attempt, she squeezed the heel of her boot into his armpit. He whimpered under her foot.