Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
As I step out of the shower, I hear the doorbell go.
There follows another sharp ring, followed by a knock on the door, and I grab my dressing gown, tug it on and hurry down to answer it.
Reaching the door, I peer through the peephole, expecting to see the postman with a tracked delivery.
A shiver of icy apprehension prickles over me when instead I find DI Blake and PC Patel on my doorstep.
Quickly, I tighten the belt of my dressing gown, brace myself, and pull the door open.
‘Mrs Keenan.’ DI Blake smiles. ‘Sorry to bother you so early. Is Mr Conley at home?’
I assume she’s noticed his Land Rover’s not on the drive. ‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘He’s working,’ I don’t quite lie.
‘Ah,’ she says. ‘Do you mind if we have a quick word anyway, since we’re here?’ She nods past me and I guess I have no choice but to invite them in. But then I’d rather talk inside than out here where Lina might overhear.
‘No problem.’ I offer her a small smile back and move aside to allow them in.
‘We won’t keep you long,’ DI Blake assures me. ‘We’ve actually been trying to get hold of Mr Conley but he’s not answering his phone,’ she adds, and a knot of tension tightens inside me.
‘Oh. No, he wouldn’t be. He’s probably switched it to silent. He often does when he’s working.’ I cover for him, though I have no idea why.
She nods thoughtfully.
‘Have you made any progress in regard to what happened to Imogen?’ I ask quickly, desperate now to know why they’re trying to get hold of him.
‘Of sorts,’ she says, eyeing me hesitantly. ‘One of the neighbours has substantiated that Mr Conley was at the address he claims he was, though they can’t confirm for how long.’
Relief crashes through every cell in my body. ‘Thank God.’ The words are out of my mouth before I’ve realised the message I’m sending.
DI Blake obviously picks up on it. I note her narrowed eyes.
‘We do also have some CCTV footage of someone leaving the car park on the same floor shortly after the incident,’ she goes on.
‘There’s no clear image of the face, and the person is wearing a hoodie, but we’re waiting for digital forensics to confirm whether they’re male or female and whether there are any distinguishing features that might help us identify them. ’
My stomach lurches. Do they think it’s Jack? I can’t help wondering why she would be offering the information unless to gauge my reaction. ‘So it’s possible there was someone there with her?’ I ask. I don’t have to work at looking shocked.
She pauses before answering. ‘We’re investigating all possible scenarios,’ she replies vaguely. ‘I thought Mr Conley might like to know about the neighbour.’
She waits, watching me so carefully now, I feel like I’m under suspicion. ‘I’ll pass it on,’ I assure her, trying to still my rioting emotions. ‘He’ll be relieved.’
‘I’m sure he will.’ Giving me another short smile, she pulls her gaze away and turns back to the door.
‘Oh, one more thing. I almost forgot. Could you also tell him we’d like to check his phone, assuming you speak to him before we do?
Just to make absolutely sure we can eliminate him from our inquiries going forward,’ she adds, causing my breath to stall.
‘Yes, of course.’ I hesitate, then, ‘Can I ask you something?’ I venture.
‘You might not be able to tell me, but I couldn’t help wondering about the note Imogen left, whether it gave any indication about her state of mind.
I was thinking about her parents. I’d like to visit them and I didn’t want to say anything that might upset them. ’
DI Blake frowns pensively. ‘It didn’t give us much,’ she says, after a pause. ‘It simply said, “I’m sorry”.’
My chest constricting, I nod and glance down. Was it her handwriting? I want to ask, but don’t, for fear she’ll question why I would be. If it was hers, I can’t help but wonder what it was she was sorry for.