The Dead Husband, page 14
‘I thought we might be better keeping away from each other for a while.’ Callum had entered the room and Amy flinched, turning to look at him. His hair was wet and a whiff of the familiar aftershave he favoured reached her nostrils. It was an effort to steer her mind from the thought of Beth and Cal sleeping together, from the closeness they were sharing, an intimacy Amy hadn’t experienced for years. Mentally shaking away the intrusive thoughts, she replied.
‘It would be suspicious if I didn’t see Beth when my husband’s missing.’
‘Who’s going to know – surely the police won’t be watching you. Have they been in touch since Thursday?’
‘DC Gupta rang, not with any news but just to see how I was coping.’
Beth joined them fresh from the shower and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Looking around the room she shivered. ‘Let’s sit in the kitchen and I’ll make coffee.’
Seated around the table, hugging their coffee cups, Callum turned to Amy. ‘It’s as well I didn’t put my wallet in Dave’s pocket like you told me to. Now they know it’s not me it would tie us to the body – as it is the police have no reason to connect us, we could have been in a right bloody mess if I’d done what you wanted!’ His voice was tight, barely controlled as he spat out the words.
‘And you can’t resist gloating, can you? It’s hardly my fault they discovered the body wasn’t you, I didn’t expect all those tests; you’d think identification from me would have been enough. And who knows, maybe if you had put the wallet in his pocket the police wouldn’t have run those tests.’ Amy refused to accept full responsibility. ‘At least they seem to have accepted we made a genuine mistake in the identification. Even they admitted to a striking similarity with the photograph I gave them.’
‘Yeah, but what happens now?’ Beth interrupted. ‘Is there a plan B?’ A moment’s silence followed.
Cal turned to Amy for an answer, his eyebrows raised, undisguised anger in his words. ‘Let’s face it, plan A wasn’t brilliant. Any other ideas?’
‘It appears we’re committed to you remaining missing. The police know you as Dave now so there’s no way we can say you’ve come home. They’d want to see you – ask where you’ve been.’
‘But without my body, there’ll be no insurance money which leaves us all in a mess – I can’t even go back to work, can I?’
Beth looked hopefully from her sister to Callum. ‘We could still go away, start somewhere new?’
‘I don’t think you have an alternative, Cal. If you stay in New Middridge, you can’t hide away forever and if you venture out, someone’s bound to recognise you. In another town you could try to find work and make a life together.’
‘The only bloody trouble with that plan is that I’ll have to assume Dave’s identity permanently.’ Cal looked glum and an intense atmosphere saturated the room as they each silently considered the implications.
‘Damn your stupid idea, Amy!’ Cal thumped the table and stood up, knocking his chair over.
‘I can’t remember you having a better one!’ Amy didn’t have the strength or inclination to argue but she didn’t want Cal to get the better of her. ‘Pointing fingers won’t help. We need to think constructively.’
‘How long does someone have to be missing until they can be declared dead?’ Beth’s question surprised the other two.
‘A good few years I think – it’s not a viable option…’ But Beth was scrolling Google on her phone. Amy assumed she was thinking if they did go away and Cal was eventually declared dead, they might be able to claim the insurance. ‘Oh, it’s seven years! Wow, a long time…’ Beth’s words gave Amy a jolt as it struck her again that there wasn’t enough time left for her to plan even one year ahead, never mind seven.
‘We need to give the situation some serious thought. I suggest you have the conversation as to what you want to do – my vote is for the going away option – I think it’s the only chance we’ll have of getting away with this. If Dave’s not reported as missing, the police won’t connect their unidentified body with him. It’s not as if he has many friends who’ll come looking, any who do we can stall, and if you move away, Beth, I’ll tell everyone you’ve relocated to find a job. Anyway, it’s not up to me, it affects you more. I’m going home now, let me know what you decide.’ Amy rose and moved to the door; neither her sister nor husband said anything.
THIRTY-NINE
MONDAY 19TH DECEMBER
Sam’s frustration at the lack of progress in identifying their body was offset by her personal life being on such a high. Both she and Ravi had Sunday off and true to his word he took her to the designer outlet near York to choose a ring. The day included a leisurely meal out and what felt like miles of walking as Sam was determined to see as many rings as possible before making her choice. Ravi was patient, even encouraging and Sam couldn’t remember enjoying a day’s shopping so much. Finally, she’d found the perfect ring – a white-gold diamond solitaire with only the slightest pattern on the shoulders. Her fingers were small and the ring looked perfect. The jeweller had her size in stock too, a bonus for Sam to be able to take it away there and then.
Having never considered herself the romantic sort, since Ravi’s proposal Sam was existing in a surreal haze of something she couldn’t describe. Without a doubt, she loved Ravi, but it wasn’t the realisation of ‘being in love’ which made her feel this way, perhaps it was more a contentment at having her future decided. There’d been a time when Sam Freeman thought the police force might be her life. Although she loved her work, Sam had seen too many colleagues sacrifice relationships for the job and was determined this wouldn’t happen to her.
Over the weekend, the couple shared their good news with their parents. Everyone was delighted and promises were made to visit. There would be much to talk about and plan and Samantha surprised herself by her almost childlike feeling of excitement.
Monday morning inevitably dawned, Christmas would be upon them soon but work was, as always, relentless. Sam gathered her team together for a briefing, yet there were no new developments to report to cheer the start of the working week.
‘The DNA samples for the two possibles for our John Doe are with the pathologist. We should have results by Wednesday.’ Kim Thatcher appeared to be scratching around for something positive to bring the DI.
‘Thanks, Kim. Can you give the lab a ring and see if you can sweet-talk them into processing them any earlier? Play the sympathy card and say we’re trying to ID this man for his family before Christmas – and grovel if you have to.’
‘Yes, boss.’ Kim smiled.
With no new information the team returned to searching for other possible mispers who might fit the criteria of their cadaver, other mundane duties and the inevitable paperwork. Her phone rang – it was the desk sergeant, asking if Samantha could see a Mr and Mrs Baxter. From the background noise and the note of pleading in the sergeant’s voice, Sam gathered Sylvie Baxter was upset about something. Hurrying downstairs, her assumptions were correct and a relieved-looking sergeant grinned knowingly as she ushered the Baxters into the nearest vacant interview room.
‘Why haven’t you locked those boys up yet?’ Sylvie wailed. ‘That bloody Dennison woman’s been shouting her head off about my Ethan being responsible for them fires! It was her son, not mine – Ethan was the victim here and they’re acting like he did it to himself!’ Kev Baxter tried to hold his wife, to sit her down, but shrugging him off she wagged her finger in Samantha’s face. ‘I want to know why you haven’t got those little thugs locked up for what they did to my Ethan. Why are they still walking about the streets when he… he…’ Turning into her husband’s shoulder, Sylvie appeared to run out of steam and wept. Kev persuaded her to sit down and give Sam a chance to talk.
Samantha sat opposite the couple and waited for Sylvie to calm down. ‘I know this must be very difficult for you both and I really am sorry about Ethan – the loss of such a young life is always tragic.’ Sylvie looked at her, disdain in her eyes as Sam continued. ‘We’re still investigating both fires. Tyler and Tim have admitted to being present and having a part in the incidents and there will be consequences for their actions.’
‘What kind of consequences? They need locking up!’
‘Mrs Baxter, the boys have told us exactly what happened and their accounts seem to suggest it was Ethan who started the fire in which he died…’
‘Of course they’d bloody say that, my boy’s not here to defend himself is he! So, will they be locked up?’
‘The case will be passed to the CPS for a decision on whether to prosecute, and there’ll be intervention from the youth offending team. From what I’ve seen of both boys, they’ve learned a salutary lesson.’
‘Intervention – what the hell does that mean? Getting them to say sorry and dig an old lady’s garden? And when can we have Ethan back – I want to make arrangements to give him a proper send-off.’
‘It shouldn’t be long now but I’ll chase it up for you. I’ll have a word with the pathologist and give you a ring.’
Sylvie grew calmer, blew her nose and turned to her husband. ‘I want to go home now.’ Kev Baxter stood to usher his wife from the room, nodding at Sam as he left.
FORTY
MONDAY 19TH DECEMBER
Amy Cooper was in a half-asleep zone, her feet on the sofa, a throw over her body and a cup of tea going cold on the coffee table. Without the slightest desire to move, she couldn’t even summon the energy to come out of her cosy cocoon and drink her tea. Yet although her body was immobile, her mind was spinning. Was it really only eighteen days since she’d learned her life was drawing to a close? So much had happened since – she’d done some incredible things and told so many lies – Amy barely recognised herself.
The same was true physically, so much so that she’d taken all the mirrors down in the house and covered the cheval mirror in her bedroom with a sheet. The only offending mirror left was in the bathroom, the mirrored cabinet. Amy took to leaving the doors open so her reflection wouldn’t confront her every time she went in. It wasn’t as if she was vain but no one wished to see their physical appearance change for the worse so rapidly. If her husband and sister had noticed, they undoubtedly put it down to the stress of recent events. They too looked nowhere near their best.
The phone on the coffee table rang and Amy turned her head to look at it, not wanting to move any other part of her body. Deciding to pick it up in case it was Beth or Callum, she answered with a weak, ‘Beth?’
‘No, it’s Fran. Have I called at a bad time?’
‘Oh, Fran, hello. No, it’s not a bad time, I was expecting it to be my sister.’
‘I’ve been wondering how you were coping, Amy. Is there any news from the police about who killed your husband?’ On Fran’s first visit, Amy told her Cal was missing; on her second that his body had been found, but the women hadn’t spoken since last Thursday before the police told her it wasn’t Cal’s body so her nurse wasn’t to know.
‘Well, yes and no. The police forensic reports and Cal’s medical records have proved the body they have isn’t Callum…’ Amy stifled a sob.
‘What? But hang on, that’s great news! He might still be alive. Are the police continuing the search?’
‘Yes, but with time passing, it may be scaled down.’
‘How strange. The man must have resembled your husband, didn’t you identify him?’
‘I only saw him through a window and he was badly bruised and swollen…’
‘Oh, how awful for you, I’m so sorry, Amy. Would you like me to come round?’
‘No, I’m expecting Beth soon. Perhaps another time?’
‘Okay, but I’d like to review your meds in the next couple of days – are you managing on the current doses?’
‘Surprisingly, yes. I’m having a lazy day today, but some days I feel quite good, strong enough to potter about.’
‘Great but don’t overdo things, and you can always ring me if I can help.’
‘Thanks for calling, Fran.’ The call ended.
Did I really say I potter about? If only Fran knew what the last few days have been like. Amy almost laughed at the absurdity of what her life had become.
She’d lied to Fran, Beth wouldn’t be coming, preferring to keep her head down these days and hide away at home with Callum, playing happy families. Amy often wondered what was going on in her sister’s mind. Beth was almost hysterical at times, expecting Cal and Amy to sort everything out and make every decision, particularly the more unsavoury ones. On that dreadful night, Beth was panic-stricken when Amy arrived, calming down until the thought of being questioned by the police agitated her again. As had been the pattern of their lives, Amy tried to do what was best for her sister – constantly striving to atone for the past. When Amy suggested the plan to pretend the body was Callum, Beth was finally placated – the focus would switch from her to her sister – an idea which clearly appealed.
Initially, Amy wondered if Beth was strong enough to play her part and was surprised when Callum described how relaxed she’d been with the police. The visit to Beth’s house caused Cal more angst than Beth, and he related to Amy the awful minute when they might have been discovered. When the two women detectives asked to speak to him while Beth made coffee, he noticed a wedding photograph of Dave and Beth on the bookcase. Thinking quickly, he placed his coffee cup in front of it and hoped the detectives hadn’t noticed. Afterwards, he and Beth searched the house for anything else which might give them away. Their near miss visibly shook Cal.
Amy was also amazed and somewhat impressed by her sister’s performance when the police showed up to inform them the body was not Callum. When Beth arrived, she appeared calm and rushed to Amy’s side to comfort her. When asked about the positive identification Amy had given, Beth played the indignant card on her behalf. It was a tricky time and Beth, to her sister’s astonishment, behaved appropriately.
The discovery of the body not being Callum was a huge disappointment and an obstacle to their plan. The question was, would it be an insurmountable obstacle? At least the police wouldn’t be investigating Amy as a murder suspect, and as Dave hadn’t been reported missing – in fact, the detectives had actually met Dave – they wouldn’t make the connection. But their breakthrough caused other problems. When, Amy wondered, would they give up trying to identify the body? Would they dispose of it if they didn’t discover the identity? Only then would Amy feel safe. And there was the problem of being unable to claim the insurance money – the main reason for switching identities. How the hell did they get into this mess? She couldn’t blame Beth, as Amy had been the one to come up with such a crazy idea. If only they’d had more time to think instead of rushing into things, but life is never straightforward.
Amy was content that her own part in this was less serious than for Callum and Beth, yet the thought of trouble with the police meant that increasingly she viewed her impending death as a welcome event, a release from her present trials and confusion and a freedom from the pain which would intensify with time. Yet still, Amy was committed to seeing this through – it was as much of her making as it was Beth’s, and a chance to give her sister the future she deserved.
FORTY-ONE
MONDAY 19TH DECEMBER
Beth and Callum lay wrapped in each other’s arms, neither feeling the need to get up and face another day. Having talked long into the night, sleep had been fitful and in the stark light of day, their problems returned to again trouble their waking hours. In his heart Callum knew there was little choice except to do as Amy suggested – move away and start a new life where they were not known. Yet a niggling resentment festered in his mind – he would be giving up more than Beth, and it would fall on him to support them financially while taking on another man’s identity.
The plan wasn’t nearly as appealing as it would have been with the insurance money, but that wasn’t going to happen now – Callum would have to live with the consequences. Staying hidden in Beth’s less-than-attractive home was also becoming stifling. It felt at times as if Dave’s ghost was watching him, mocking him for the complicated predicament they found themselves in. Beth at least could go out, and frequently did, just short trips for shopping, but even a grocery shop appealed to Cal after being cooped up inside for so long.
‘So, are we decided on going away? Shall we tell Amy today?’ Beth idly scratched her nails over Callum’s chest, her voice pleading, girlish.
‘It’s more complicated than just deciding to do it.’
‘It doesn’t have to be; it can be exciting. And what have we got to stay for?’
Callum removed her hand from his chest and shuffled away from her. ‘There’s my mother. She’s been told I’m missing and probably thinks I’m dead.’
‘But she’s away with the fairies most of the time and you rarely see her, do you?’
‘No, but that’s not the point. We need to be sure it’s the right thing to do, and there’s my brother too – the police have been in touch with him to let him know I’m missing.’
‘You haven’t spoken to your brother for years – you may as well be dead for all the concern he shows you or your mum.’ Beth sounded snappy but then her tone changed. ‘I’m sure it’s the best way forward. I love you, Cal, and want to be with you. So, shall we do it?’
‘We don’t have an alternative, but there are things to decide first. I’ll need to speak to Amy about money. She mentioned selling the house and getting somewhere smaller for herself – we need that even more now, so we’ll at least have some starting capital.’
