CHAPTER 58
My head is spinning from the fumes. I can hear Solly barking, Warren shouting, feet on stairs and then, to my surprise, four uniformed officers burst into the kitchen.
They swarm around Warren, simultaneously removing the petrol can from his hand as another snaps handcuffs on his wrists and leads him from the room.
Annette just stands there, watching it all unfold with a neutral expression.
She presumably thinks she can talk her way out of this, but then I see DI Shirley appear at the bottom of the stairs.
She flicks her eyes to me, still lying on the floor, and then promptly reads Annette her rights.
‘You’ve made a mistake,’ Annette calls over her shoulder as she’s led away by another officer. ‘This is all a terrible misunderstanding,’ but the officer ignores her and ushers her out of the kitchen.
I don’t understand. How did they know? How did they get here so quickly?
‘Are you okay?’ DI Shirley says as she helps me up from the floor. All the other officers have left and it’s just the two of us. ‘Come on, let’s get you out of here.’ She takes my arm and gently steers me upstairs to the living room. Solly follows us.
‘Who rang you?’
‘Josh,’ she says. ‘He seemed very well informed. He said your life was in danger.’
‘What? But how? How would he know that?’
And then I remember.
The hidden cameras he’d set up in the house. The ones I hadn’t been able to find. They must still be working.
Josh would have caught, not only my conversation with Annette, but her confession, on film.
For once I’m thankful that Josh was watching me.
Forty-five minutes later Josh has turned up looking ashen and breathless. He instantly relaxes when he sees I’m alive and well and sitting drinking coffee in the living room with DI Shirley. I don’t know whether to swear at him or to thank him.
‘Thank goodness you’re okay,’ he says somewhat sheepishly.
DI Shirley gives him a disapproving look. I’d filled her in on everything before Josh arrived, asking her if what Josh had done was illegal and she said it was a grey area. Apparently you are allowed to install cameras in your home if you own it. But Josh doesn’t own this house. I do.
Josh notices DI Shirley’s hard stare because he reddens.
‘I understand you have cameras set up inside Imogen’s house,’ she says to him as he stands there holding some kind of gadget in his hand. ‘While you’ve helped us out on this occasion, it is most irregular …’
He hangs his head.
‘… and I’d like you to remove every single one of them while I’m here, otherwise I’ll arrest you, is that clear?’
I can see Josh squirming. He hates being told off, especially by someone in power. I flash DI Shirley a grateful smile.
‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Ims.’ He unfurls his fingers to show a small black device in his palm.
‘I’ve got it all on a USB stick. Annette’s confession.
Everything.’ He pushes the USB stick across the coffee table to DI Shirley with an eager expression.
Does he expect a pat on the back? Although, of course, I am grateful.
It would have been her word against mine otherwise.
DI Shirley picks up the USB stick. ‘Right, I’ll take this down to the station.
’ She addresses me as she leans forward to put down her coffee cup.
‘And thanks for the statement, Imogen. I’ll speak to Aiden Hill as well, although, thanks to this,’ she brandishes the USB stick, ‘we’ve got her confession about what she did to Maisie as well. ’
And then she instructs Josh to show her where he’s hidden all the cameras and I follow them around, watching in shock as he removes them from places I never thought to look: a glass vase in the living room, a picture frame in the dining room, a small hole in the wardrobe in the bedroom and in the Aga’s hood in the kitchen.
‘I trust that’s all of them?’ DI Shirley fixes her piercing gaze on Josh.
‘Yes, I promise.’
‘I think you should also hand over your key to Imogen.’
Josh looks at me questioningly and I nod. I can see how reluctant he is to part with it, but with a detective watching he has no choice.
He burns with humiliation, and I can sense the lack of control is killing him.
‘Thank you,’ I say as I take the key.
‘I’ll come and collect my stuff at the weekend,’ he mumbles. ‘If that’s okay?’
I tell him that it is but I make a mental note to ask Alison or Rachel to come over when he does.
DI Shirley tactfully suggests that I can show Josh out while she mops up the petrol in the kitchen.
Josh is quiet as we walk down the hallway, and I can see him gazing around wistfully. ‘Will you be okay on your own, here?’ he asks as I open the front door.
‘I’ll be fine, Josh,’ I say, hoping it’s true.
‘I heard what Annette said. I heard all of it. I’m so sorry, Imogen. I’m so sorry for what happened with your mum … and your dad. And Dorothea. What will become of your dad now?’
‘I don’t know.’ I haven’t had the chance to wrap my head around the repercussions of all this.
‘I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling.’ He touches my arm gently.
A tear slides down my face. ‘My mum trusted Annette and so did Dorothea. How could she have been so cold? How could she have just left Dorothea to die like that? After everything they’d been through together?’
‘I don’t know,’ says Josh.
‘I feel like I’ve let her down, somehow.’
‘Of course you haven’t.’ He shuffles awkwardly. ‘I know I’ve done so many wrong things in this relationship, Ims. And I’m not asking for another chance. But … you’ve been in my life for twelve years. I can’t bear the thought of us not staying friends.’
I almost want to laugh. There is no way Josh could just be friends.
‘Anyway.’ He flushes. ‘What I’m trying to say is … I’m here if you ever need me.’
I smile a thank you and then I watch as he gets in the car and reverses out of the driveway. And I feel a mixture of sadness and relief that he’s gone.
As DI Shirley is leaving I ask about the sculpture. ‘Did you find anything else? All this time I thought the little miniature items on the magpies meant something, and they did, in part. But I also think Dorothea hid some evidence somewhere on the sculpture. Maybe the boots or …’
DI Shirley holds up her hand. ‘We’re already on it, Imogen. We’ve found a blouse underneath that wool jacket.’
The lace sleeves. I’d assumed the jacket was just fabric pasted onto the papier-maché and that the buttons were false.
‘The blouse is part of a banshee costume,’ she continues, ‘and pinned to it was a Polaroid of Annette wearing the same blouse at the Halloween party back in 2008. The blouse has a large bloodstain on the front, which …’ her expression softens in sympathy, ‘… I think will belong to your mother. I’m hoping Annette’s DNA will also be on the blouse.
That, along with her confession, should be enough to charge her. ’
Dorothea must have kept it all this time. Insurance. She didn’t trust Annette.
After DI Shirley has gone, promising to be in touch about my dad, I ring Alison. She’s at the salon but I tell her as much as I can.
‘I’m coming straight over after work. I finish today at five p.m. Lila has a playdate after school so Gareth can pick her up.’
‘You can stay the night if you like?’
She must sense the hope in my voice because she tells me she’ll bring an overnight bag and that Gareth’s mum can help out with Lila.
When she’s ended the call I stroll across the fields with Solly, grateful for the fresh air.
The scent of petrol lingers in my nostrils.
There are so many questions going around in my mind.
I’m still puzzled by who left the postcard for Dorothea in the woods, and why.
It doesn’t sound like it was Warren. Why would he?
And who was the man Lila saw in the woods?
Gabe apparently (according to DI Shirley) had an alibi for that day.
It doesn’t sound like he fits Dennis’s description either.
Another thing that niggles is why would Dorothea decide she needed to make the magpie collection now?
It’s been sixteen years since Annette killed my mum.
Had something happened in the months before Dorothea’s death that gave her a reason to rat out Annette?
I still feel I’m missing something.
I decide to call Rachel. In the distance I spot Dennis with Cady but I deliberately turn and walk in the opposite direction. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.
Rachel picks up but I can tell she’s distracted.
‘Sorry, Immy, I’m on a deadline.’ The newsroom is a blur of noise behind her.
‘Just a quick one. Did you ring that number you had for a Robert Falkner in Australia?’
‘I did, yes. I’m so sorry, I meant to call you about it.
I think it must be the right man. I spoke to a woman who said Robert Falkner was her husband and that he was in the UK on business.
The ages definitely line up, and this woman said Bobby has a sister called Irene who lives in Corsham.
Sorry, Immy, I’ve got to go. Can we talk about this later?
OKAY, I’M COMING …’ she screams at someone.
‘Sorry,’ she says to me. ‘Chris is being a prick …’
Before I can reply or ask for the number, she’s ended the call.
My whole body fizzes with adrenaline as the pieces of the puzzle finally click into place.
When I went to visit Irene she said how she’d missed Bobby so much and something about all those wasted years.
And if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have missed out on all those years with him.
All those wasted years. They would only have been wasted years if she knew she could have spent them with him.
At the time I’d dismissed it as her not realizing he was dead.
But what if Irene had seen Bobby recently?
Harry and I had both spotted a smartly dressed older gentleman near the villa.
And Lila saw the man in the woods that day.
Was that Bobby? What if Annette had lied to Dorothea about his death so that she had a hold over her?
What if Dorothea hadn’t killed Bobby at all?