The Night She Dies, page 27
‘You thought my clothes were covered in Amber’s blood?’ Lucy asks. ‘That I’d hurt her that badly?’ Her voice softens. ‘But you got rid of them anyway,’ she reflects. ‘To protect me.’
‘You’re my sister,’ Milla says simply.
‘And later, after we knew Amber was dead, you figured I must have killed her,’ Lucy says quietly. ‘That’s why you wanted Mum and Dad to pay Jess, and why you didn’t want me to talk to the police.’
‘I know how bad you are at lying.’
‘It was my blood, Milla,’ Lucy says. ‘Not Amber’s. Yeah, I pretended to be dangerous, poking the vodka bottle at her. But she grabbed it off me. Then she cut me. My hands first; then she sliced my stomach. It wasn’t too deep, but it was long, all the way across, and God, it hurt so much. I collapsed on the mud, and she ran away. Completely fine except for a few cuts on her fingers.’
‘Your blood?’ Milla repeats, getting her head around it.
‘Yeah, what a warrior I turned out to be. Do you know, I took the rolling pin with me, as sort of a defence weapon. But that never made it out of the plastic bag. I lay on the ground for ages after she left. I think I was in shock, or just exhausted. But eventually I found the energy to get myself up.’
‘But if Amber attacked you, why didn’t you just tell us what she’d done?’
Lucy looks away, out of the car window, but pulls her school shirt out of her skirt, and opens the bottom few buttons. The material slips apart and Milla stares at the long thin scab splitting Lucy’s midriff in two. ‘It was a warning,’ Lucy explains, still not making eye contact. ‘I knew something about Amber, and Jess. Something Bronwen had found out and told me in her letter. I was trying to figure out what to do about it, but then Amber stole the letter. She threatened me. Said that if I told anyone else what I’d learned, my family, the school, then she’d kill me.’
‘But Amber’s dead,’ Milla murmurs. ‘She can’t hurt you anymore.’
Lucy turns back to face Milla. ‘I know. But I couldn’t have predicted that when I was bleeding everywhere and trying to work out what the hell I was going to say to Mum, could I? And then afterwards, I suppose it felt easier to keep it to myself. I’d cleaned up by then; found a dressing. Realised that the wound wasn’t too bad. And I didn’t want anyone to know I even saw Amber that night, let alone fought with her. Plus, there was always the chance that Jess would act on Amber’s threat if I did say something. It was easier to stay quiet.’
Milla thinks for a moment. ‘I get that in the beginning,’ she starts. ‘But what about later, when everything came out, and Jess was accusing you of killing Amber? Surely you could tell that Mum was suspicious of you then? Didn’t you want to explain?’
Lucy bites her lip, looks towards the window again. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight.’
Milla studies her sister in profile. Her pale skin and dainty nose. Long, light eyelashes. We judge people on their appearance, she thinks, however hard we try not to. And Lucy looks like she needs protecting. But is that really true? Or is she stronger than that? ‘I don’t believe you,’ she says.
Lucy turns to face her.
‘It’s because you thought I killed her, isn’t it?’ Milla presses. ‘That’s why you kept quiet. Because when I was busy covering your tracks, you thought I was hunting Amber.’
‘I was more grateful than horrified,’ Lucy whispers. ‘I didn’t think about you being a killer, just an incredible sister. That’s bad, isn’t it?’
‘I didn’t kill her, Luce.’
‘I know that now. Hopefully I always knew it, and that’s why it was easy to accept, because it was only ever a story I made up.’
‘But someone did.’ Milla pauses for a few seconds, but she needs to say this. ‘This thing you’d found out about Amber, what was it?’
Tears glisten in Lucy’s eyes. ‘Bronwen couldn’t believe anyone could hate me enough to bully me like that,’ she says, looking straight ahead. ‘So she tried to find out more about Amber and Jess, what had happened to make them such bitches, and why they were picking on me specifically. It took her a few months, but Amber eventually accepted a follow request from one of the Instagram accounts she set up.’
‘Did she find out that Amber and Jess went to Dad’s old school?’ Milla asks. ‘And that Jess was probably the anonymous witness in the case against him?’
Lucy’s head whips round. ‘How did you know about that?’
‘The police know,’ Milla says. ‘They came to the house.’
‘Shit.’ Lucy’s brow creases.
‘That’s why I came to get you. Why I had to ask if you killed Amber.’
‘Because you think …’ Lucy starts, but can’t finish.
‘Dad was the last person to see Jess before she went missing, wasn’t he?’ Milla says. ‘And he was out, in the car, on the night Amber was killed. We all were. But maybe he found Amber instead of you.’
‘But he didn’t know who she was. At least, I hadn’t told him …’ Her voice trails off, perhaps realising that if Bronwen could find out the truth, so could their dad.
‘How was he when he got back that night?’ Milla asks.
‘Well, he didn’t come back straight away,’ Lucy admits quietly. ‘And when he did, he seemed distracted. But that was understandable; he was exhausted from his trip, and he’d thought something bad had happened to me. He went for a shower, and I went to bed, so I didn’t see him again that night.’
‘Luce,’ Milla says, taking a breath. ‘Do you think he could have killed her?’ She forces herself to look at her sister, sees the tears, now snaking down her cheeks. But Lucy doesn’t answer her question.
‘Where’s Mum?’ she says.
‘I … I don’t know,’ Milla stutters. ‘I tried calling but she didn’t pick up.’
‘Try again,’ Lucy begs. ‘Please.’ Milla does as she’s asked and switches to speaker mode, but it goes straight through to voicemail again. She frowns. She’s left a couple of messages now, and her dad must have left dozens. She phoned her mum’s work too, and they said she wasn’t in the office.
So where is she?
Milla opens Find My iPhone, but her frown deepens at the No location found written underneath her mum’s contact. ‘That’s weird,’ she murmurs. ‘She never turns her phone off.’
‘Dad said she left before he woke up,’ Lucy whispers. ‘You don’t think she’s left him, do you?’ Her eyes widen. ‘Do you think he confessed to killing Amber and she ran?’
‘Don’t be stupid!’ Milla throws back. ‘She’d never leave us.’ Not Dad would never kill Amber, she realises with a stab of guilt.
‘Well where is she then?’ Lucy whines.
Milla thinks. This is 2024. There must be some way of finding her. Not Snapchat – her mum’s never been near it – but some way. She feels the cold metal of Felix’s car key in her hands. ‘Fuck, I know!’ she calls out, then checks if the app from that impulsive Christmas present is still active on her phone.
A car key tracker.
AFTER
Monday 13th May
Rachel
He’s back. He looks different now. Calmer. I should be relieved, but I’m scared. There’s an intent in his expression that wasn’t there before.
When he pushed the piece of tape back over my mouth, I thought he was going to smother me to death. And even when his hand lifted, I struggled to breathe; my nose filled with snot. But then he left the room, and gradually I found some rhythm again. That’s when I realised that the tape had lost some of its glue, and I’ve been moving my face ever since, like a cow chewing grass, to try and loosen it further. But even if I do dislodge it, I’m not sure what I want to use my voice for. To scream for help, or to persuade him to let me go?
‘Your old man’s a fucking prick,’ he murmurs. ‘He thinks he’s better than people like me. That he can do what he wants to us, because we don’t really matter.’
I move my mouth, but the tape holds.
‘But you matter to him, like his precious little girl matters.’
He leans forward, his face hovering close to mine. I push my head against the pillow to gain as much distance as I can, but it only gives me millimetres.
‘He treated my mum like filth,’ Sean growls, the knife appearing in his hand again. ‘When she was clearing up his mess, and fighting cancer at the same time. And he never once said sorry, not even when she told the school about her diagnosis.’
I can smell his breath, feel his spittle on my skin. The blade grazes the exposed part of my shoulder. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but my throat is too constricted to ask.
‘And then you turn up at my flat,’ he goes on. ‘Shouting your mouth off. It’s like you’re asking to pay for what he’s done.’
I want to ram my eyes shut, make Sean disappear, but they widen in fear.
Bang, bang, bang.
It takes a moment for my brain to register that someone is thumping on the front door. Sean rears back. A look of fear passes across his face, then it hardens as he realises my mouth isn’t covered up and moves forward again. He drops down on top of me. One hand clamps my mouth, the other holds the knife against the dip of my neck. ‘Don’t speak,’ he mouths. His body is heavy. I feel like I’m suffocating.
‘Sean Russo!’ The words catapult through the letter box. My chest explodes with an adrenalin surge. It’s DI Finnemore. This is my chance.
What will they do when no one comes to the door? Do the police know Sean has kidnapped me? Or is this about Jess? Or Amber? Either way, they can’t break in without a warrant. If Sean is a suspect in a murder investigation, or that of a missing child, the courts would issue one without question. But if this is just a routine inquiry, Finnemore wouldn’t have even applied for one.
Am I really going to lie here passively and wait to find out?
I whip my head to the right, then switch left, and again, hurling it side to side. My lips slide against his fingers. The traction loosens his grip, just enough for my mouth to open a fraction. I grab his middle finger between my teeth, clamp down.
‘Ah, fuck!’ he hisses. But as he tries to pull that hand away, the other pushes forward. I feel a sudden, searing pain as the knife cuts through my skin below my collarbone. But instead of stalling me, it has the opposite effect. Fight. I fling my head forward, it slams into his. He’s dazed for a moment, and I use the chance to twist and squirm underneath him. I can’t get away, but it’s enough to make him feel unbalanced. He puts his free hand on the mattress to steady us both.
And I scream.
The hand is back over my mouth in an instant, pushing hard. The knife slides deeper into my shoulder. It’s agony. My vision blurs.
I force myself to pull back, focus on the noise.
Banging, rustling, thudding, shouting.
The door flies open. The pressure on my mouth, the knife, disappears. I gasp for breath. Sean is dragged off me. I hear the crack of a Taser, watch his body stiffen, then collapse inwards.
Sean Russo, I’m arresting you on suspicion of kidnap and false imprisonment, grievous bodily harm with intent, and also for the murder of Amber Walsh …
Sean murdered Amber. He’s the criminal, not my husband. I always knew that.
… And for the grievous bodily harm of Caden Carter. You do not have to say anything but …
Who is Caden Carter?
I see someone I recognise, a woman who’s been my adversary for the last week but is now my rescuer. I try a smile, but her eyes are on the knife jutting out of me, it’s handle butted up against my collarbone. Bzowski pulls out her phone and calls for an ambulance. As the adrenalin ebbs away, I feel spent. Like I could drift into unconsciousness and sleep forever.
‘Stay alert, Rachel,’ Bzowski says quietly. ‘The paramedics are on their way.’ I try to focus on her face, her concerned eyes. ‘And lie absolutely still. From the blood loss, it doesn’t seem like the blade has hit any major blood vessels, which is good, but it’s important not to move.’
I blink to tell her I understand, that I’m grateful. Then I hear his voice. Sean shouting at DI Finnemore. ‘I didn’t kill Amber, you fucking moron!’
But Finnemore cuts him off. ‘I’ve just had confirmation that your blood was found on her body, and we have a witness who places you at the crime scene, so I suggest you keep the insults to a minimum.’
‘I … I saw her afterwards, all right!’ Sean stutters. ‘After she died. And I cut my hand on a bramble when I was walking there! I freaked when I saw her, did a runner. I’m not gonna trust the feds, am I?’
‘That’s the most rubbish story I’ve ever heard,’ Finnemore mutters. Then he shoves Sean, still arguing, out of the bedroom and it’s just Bzowski and me.
‘Sean killed Amber then,’ I whisper, wanting to hear her say it too, like a child seeking more reassurance.
‘It looks that way.’
‘And Jess?’ I ask, my heart rate ticking up despite the pain as I think about the Waitrose bag of cash. The badger. The car in the garage.
‘He’ll be asked about her in his interview,’ she explains quietly. Then she sits up straighter as a noise filters through the thin walls. ‘That must be the paramedics,’ she says.
I say a silent prayer of thanks for the imminent pain relief and turn towards the door. But the sight is better than anything paracetamol could do.
‘Mum!’ two voices screech in unison, then my daughters come tumbling into the room.
AFTER
Monday 13th May
Rachel
‘Girls? What are you doing here?’
‘Oh my God, Mum! What’s happened?’ Lucy lurches towards me, but Bzowski reaches out, stops her from getting any closer.
‘Sorry, Lucy,’ she says. ‘The ambulance will be here any minute, but for now, we need to give your mum some space.’
‘What the hell’s going on, Mum?’ Milla asks, her voice crosser than her sister’s. A coping mechanism she’s inherited from me. Then she gives Bzowski a sideways glance. ‘Never mind, I’m just glad you’re okay.’
‘How did you find me?’ I whisper. ‘Is Dad here too?’
The girls exchange a look, then shift their eyes back to me. ‘Felix lent me his car,’ Milla starts. ‘I got Lucy from school and then tracked you via that GPS key ring I got you for Christmas. It said your car keys were somewhere in this block. We were trying to figure out which flat you might be in when a police response van arrived, and we just followed them in.’
‘But … but why were you even looking for me?’ I stutter. Lucy opens her mouth to speak, but Milla jumps in.
‘You weren’t answering your phone. And no one at work knew where you were. I knew I had to find you. Call it a daughter’s instinct.’
My eyes fill with tears. It’s all too easy to dwell on what you lose when your child becomes an adult; it’s good to be reminded what you gain. I want to tell them everything. Tell Lucy that none of this is her fault, that she was only bullied because of who her father was. And that the boy who made their dad’s life hell two years ago was behind it all. That he was friends with Amber, but that it must have been a toxic kind of friendship because the police think he killed her. And maybe he’s behind Jess’s disappearance too.
But I can’t say any of this in front of Bzowski so we fall into an awkward silence. Milla’s expression is closed, Lucy’s wide-eyed, and Bzowski’s curious. But suddenly there’s a buzzing sound. Bzowski’s phone is ringing, and I say a silent prayer of thanks. She looks at it for a moment, then back at me. ‘I’ll just be a minute. Remember, no movement.’ Then she puts the phone to her ear and slips out of the room.
‘This is Sean Russo’s flat,’ I admit quietly once she’s gone.
Lucy darts a look at her sister. ‘The guy who accused Dad? Why did you come here?’
‘I was looking for Jess. I felt responsible I suppose, with Dad being the last person to see her before she went missing.’
‘That’s crazy,’ Milla mumbles, but it sounds false. I give her a questioning look, but she shifts her gaze away from me.
‘I knew Jess would have her own file at work,’ I continue. ‘I shouldn’t have looked, it was very unprofessional, but I thought if I found out a bit more about her, I might be able to figure out where she’d gone.’
Lucy’s head jerks up. ‘Did her file say why she moved away from Oxford?’
‘Yes,’ I say cautiously. ‘Why?’
‘Did it talk about her being the mystery witness in Dad’s case?’
I inhale. ‘How did you know?’
‘Bronwen worked it out, at least that’s what she thought based on what she’d found out. It was all in her letter,’ Lucy explains. ‘That’s why I snapped on the night Amber died. Not only was she making my life hell, she was involved in ruining Dad’s. Bronwen thought she’d found a way to solve my problem. She was so happy for me, but then Amber stole the letter and threatened to kill me if I told anyone.’
‘I found out this morning,’ Milla jumps in. ‘Well, guessed really. When the police spoke to Dad. They asked him if he knew who Jess really was.’
As I look at their faces – the mix of fear and anger in their expressions – I realise that they’re suspicious of Matt too. ‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean …’
‘Mum, what if Dad didn’t hit a badger on Friday night?’ Milla asks quietly. ‘What if he actually hit Jess, then got rid of her body somehow? He’s been acting weird since then. Fuck, he could even have killed Amber when he was supposedly out looking for Lucy. Don’t say you haven’t thought it too.’
God, my shoulder is hurting. ‘Sean killed Amber,’ I tell my daughter through gritted teeth. ‘DI Finnemore has just arrested him for it.’
‘Like they arrested that other guy, do you mean?’ she throws back. ‘Before letting him go?’
‘Jesus, Milla!’ I hiss as quietly as I can. ‘Your dad isn’t a killer.’
‘You thought I killed her though, didn’t you?’ Lucy says, her voice small. ‘When you found out about the blog, and then me meeting up with her. You thought I was capable of it.’
