Chapter 48
NOW
Late August
Saturday
‘It does this sometimes,’ I assured the new receptionist as I leaned slightly across the desk.
I glanced at the guests waiting to check in. ‘Sorry for the hold-up,’ I said with a polite smile.
I lifted the room key encoder and tapped a few buttons. ‘It just needs resetting like this.’
She nodded quickly, her eyes watching my every movement intently, as though she was terrified of missing something critical.
I remembered that feeling. Learning how to manage the systems, how to deal with the long queues at check-in. The constant fear of messing something up.
‘Don’t worry, Emma. You’ll get the hang of it,’ I assured her, remembering how important my supervisor’s reassurance had been to me when I’d started at my first hotel.
She smiled gratefully.
I glanced back at the machine, listening to it whir as it restarted.
‘Kirsty…’
‘It won’t be long now,’ I assured her.
‘Kirsty…’ she repeated, her voice more urgent this time. She nodded towards the door behind me. ‘Why are the police here?’
My stomach dropped as I swung round.
PC Grove. PC Day. I fought to keep my panic from showing on my face.
Why were they here?
I pressed the blank key card into the receptionist’s hand. ‘You should be able to encode it now,’ I said as I slipped past her and stepped out from behind the reception desk.
The walk across the lobby felt painfully slow and long as I moved towards the police officers, nausea churning in my stomach.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked as I reached them. ‘Do you have more questions for me?’ I glanced from one to the other, but their expressions were dark and unreadable.
‘Kirsty Palmer,’ PC Grove said. ‘I am arresting you on suspicion of fraud and on suspicion of causing the death of Charlotte Lewis.’
The lobby around me tilted.
‘W—what?’ The word sounded slurred and barely audible.
‘You do not have to say anything—’ PC Grove continued but I wasn’t listening.
This couldn’t be happening.
Causing the death of Charlotte Lewis.
His words repeated in my head.
He couldn’t really believe that. The fraud accusations were bad enough, but Charlotte—
I shook my head. ‘I didn’t—’ I tried to speak, but bile rose in my throat.
The faces around me blurred, but I could feel them all watching me.
Judging me.
How was I going to come back from this?
Even if I could prove my innocence to the police, no one would look at me the same way. Not after this.
‘Kirsty?’
My gaze shifted to the sound of Emma’s voice. I blinked, trying to bring her into focus.
‘Should I call someone?’ she asked, fear vibrating through her words. ‘Your parents? Boyfriend? Anyone?’
I shook my head.
‘No.’ My throat tightened. ‘There’s no one.’
Everything felt numb. My body. My brain. As though I wasn’t really here. But I knew that I was.
‘Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?’ DC Portman, seated in front of me, said, her voice cutting through the haze.
‘Yes,’ I murmured, even though I’d barely heard a single word she’d said since I’d sat down in the interview room.
My gaze drifted as I glanced around, trying to focus.
Was it the same room as last time? It felt like it. The same white walls, the same minimal furniture. The only difference was the absence of PC Grove and PC Day. Their seats were occupied by new people. People in suits instead of uniforms.
Detective Constable Portman and Detective Constable Goodday.
That wasn’t good, was it?
I glanced at my solicitor to my left. Another stranger. But at least she was on my side. I studied her expression: stern and unreadable. Even she felt intimidating.
‘Ms Palmer?’ DC Goodday said.
I blinked.
‘Sorry, I was…’ I didn’t finish.
‘As discussed during your last interview, we’ve uncovered multiple sales agreements with your signature—’
‘Forged signature,’ I corrected, my brain snapping to attention. I needed to stay alert, stay present.
‘And the payments linked to these sales that were transferred to an account in your name.’
‘But it’s not my account,’ I reminded him.
‘We looked into your allegations regarding the fertility of Atlas,’ DC Goodday said.
I edged forward in my chair.
‘The tests confirm he is still infertile. In addition, the foals we’ve tested so far show no genetic link to him.’
‘I was right.’ I glanced at my solicitor, smiling as relief flickered within me. They’d have to listen to me now. I’d already been proved right on this.
The look on her face told me that fact wasn’t helping me.
I swallowed.
‘We’ve also received the toxicology report, from the tests performed on Atlas immediately after the incident,’ DC Goodday continued.
‘You did tests on him?’
‘It’s standard in unexplained deaths. The toxicology report showed elevated levels of selenium in Atlas’s system.’
‘What’s that?’ I asked, my brow furrowing.
‘It’s a natural mineral that can be taken as a nutritional supplement. It’s used by the stables in controlled amounts for fertility treatment. But the levels we found were significantly higher than expected.’
‘What does that mean?’ I asked, a gnawing in my stomach.
‘It’s likely that this is the reason Atlas was acting out of character that day. More agitated. Difficult to control.’
‘You think someone increased his dosage intentionally?’ As soon as the question left my lips, I knew the answer. Not only did they think that – they thought that someone was me.
I shook my head. ‘It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t know what to give him, or how.’
‘And yet you knew about his infertility and about the supplements.’
‘Only from what I’d been told.’
‘By whom? David Harcourt?’
I froze. They knew I’d spoken to David.
‘No,’ I replied honestly.
‘We interviewed David this morning.’
I clasped my hands together. ‘Then you know,’ I said quickly. ‘You know he was working with Charlotte. That they committed the fraud together.’
DC Portman nodded. ‘David admitted his involvement. And how it was under duress.’
‘Right, because Charlotte blackmailed him—’
‘In response to pressure from you.’
I froze.
‘Me?’
What was happening?
What pressure?
What had David said?
‘David admitted that he agreed to go along with the initial deception in order to help Charlotte save Blackwater Stables. While he acknowledges his involvement was a crime, he had justified it to himself as the sale was being made to Charlotte’s own father.’
I nodded. I knew all that.
‘We understand you’d started working at the stables before that first foal was born?’
‘Yes,’ I replied hesitantly, unsure of the significance.
‘When you realised what Charlotte and David had done, you demanded a share.’
‘What? No!’ I shook my head, gripping the edge of the table. ‘I didn’t even know. Not until after Charlotte died.’
‘We have a statement from David Harcourt claiming that you applied pressure on Charlotte, who in turn applied pressure on him, to repeat the scam. Multiple times.’
I kept shaking my head, speechless to interrupt what I was hearing.
‘You demanded a ￡5,000 payout on each sale, direct into your account. You inserted yourself into the process, signing the agreements to ensure that you had a legitimate role in the sales should anyone question your payout.’
‘He’s lying,’ I urged, desperate for them to believe me.
‘He has no reason to lie,’ DC Goodday said evenly. ‘David Harcourt has already been charged. He’ll lose his veterinary licence. His career.’
‘But none of it’s true,’ I whispered, but I knew they weren’t listening. Why would they? David had ensured that everything fitted together perfectly.
‘That brings us to Charlotte’s death…’
The room felt as though it was closing in around me.
I knew I hadn’t been involved in her death. But I also knew I hadn’t committed any fraud. My innocence didn’t seem to matter.
‘Charlotte’s movements on the day she died were out of character. She broke with her typical routine. Met with you at 8 a.m. Delayed her morning ride until the afternoon. And abandoned her usual riding route for Ballard Down, an elevated range with a steep drop—’
‘Wait, I thought Charlotte was just thrown from Atlas.’
‘That’s the assumption.’
‘But she was thrown off the ridge?’
‘It seems likely that something startled Atlas. His reactive state and the more difficult terrain may have made it harder for Charlotte to regain control, resulting in her being thrown and falling onto the rocks below.’
I winced at the thought of falling that distance. Of those being her final moments.
‘A different location, exposed terrain, a reactive horse… It could all be a series of unfortunate circumstances.’
Could.
The way DC Goodday stressed the word made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
‘But,’ I said slowly, ‘you don’t think it was?’
DC Goodday pulled a sealed plastic bag from a folder in front of him and slid it across the table towards me. ‘This was found in Charlotte’s pocket.’
I leaned forward, staring at writing on the slip of paper inside.
I have information you want.
Ballard Down.
2pm.
Ride Atlas.
‘Who was she meeting?’ I asked, my gaze lifting to DC Goodday’s face.
He didn’t answer.
‘Why were you following her, Kirsty?’ DC Portman asked.
My gaze shifted to her as I shook my head.
How could she know that?
DC Goodday pulled a photograph from the folder. ‘This was taken from a speed camera on Monday morning,’ he said, sliding it in front of me.
I stared at the woman in the photograph. A short bob. Full fringe. Oversized sunglasses.
Bile rose in my throat.
It was me.
‘We’ve identified the vehicle as a hire car rented in your name,’ he continued. ‘We also have a statement from David Harcourt, that you admitted to following Charlotte.’
My palms felt hot and sweaty and I wiped them against my black skirt.
‘Denise Blackwater has also stated that Charlotte told her you had been stalking both her and Ryan.’ He glanced at his notes. ‘We have CCTV from the Purbeck Sports Centre car park to support that.’
I couldn’t breathe.
They were twisting everything. Using it all against me.
‘It’s not yet clear how Charlotte came into possession of the note instructing her to ride Atlas to Ballard Down,’ DC Goodday said. ‘But you had opportunity to pass it to her during your altercation on Wednesday morning.’
‘You had knowledge of the supplements being used to treat Atlas,’ DC Portman added. ‘And you’ve demonstrated a familiarity with the horse. One that contradicts previous statements of your fear of horses.’
‘Taking all of these factors into account,’ DC Goodday said, leaning forward, ‘Charlotte’s death doesn’t really seem like an accident any more, does it?’