Page 63

CHAPTER 63

MATTHEW – D AY F IVE

‘I’m sorry. She doesn’t want to see you.’ Carol, on the doorstep of her cottage, just two doors along from their own, looks shaken. ‘She told me what you said, Matthew.’

‘I know. It’s terrible. And I will never forgive myself. I shouldn’t have said it. And I don’t think—’

‘So why did you say it? You know that she already blames herself. How could you say that to her?’ Carol has started to cry.

Matthew steps back as if slapped. For a while they just stand there, Carol crying and him dazed. And utterly desperate. Convinced in this moment that he has lost absolutely everything. Amelie. And Sally now too.

‘If I could just speak to her.’

‘No. She needs space. And I need to look after her.’

‘Will you tell her that I love her and I truly didn’t mean it and I’m so very sorry. I don’t blame her. Of course I don’t blame her.’

Carol stares at him, still crying, and finally gives a small nod, closing the door.

For a while longer, Matthew just stands on the doorstep. He thinks of Sally inside and presses the palm of his hand against the glossy red paint of the door. It feels that if he steps away there will be no point to anything anymore.

Finally, hand still pressed to the door, he sees a light go on upstairs. He imagines Carol comforting Sally. He stares at his hand for a minute, maybe two, and finally moves it very slowly from the door, turns and walks back to his car. It’s parked in a nearby lay-by, hidden by hedges. Lisa, the communications officer, said to be careful. Journalists might know his car.

In the driver’s seat, he takes out his phone from his pocket to see a message from Mel.

Ring me.

He’s too afraid to call up news sites yet. To face the consequence of the disastrous press conference. Some outlets will worry about libel. They won’t want to report the allegation about Dawn without evidence. But the tabloids might get bold.

Matthew dials and presses the phone to his ear.

‘You OK?’ It’s Mel’s voice.

‘No. Sally won’t talk to me. You?’

‘I’m so sorry, Matt. Nightmare here too. Hiding from the super so he can’t sack me. Do you need me to give you more time?’

‘No. Shoot. What’s happening?’

‘I have the team doing a big push. The BBC have run the photofit and we have some calls coming in. I want the team to go over all your softer cases. Not just six months. The past twelve months. Check them against black Volvos and the photofit.’

‘I don’t recognise the photofit, Mel.’

‘Sure. But there could be a link we’re not seeing. Can you check your diary and your records again? Divorces, missing persons – the lot. Make sure we have every case for this past year.’

‘Sure.’ He feels hollowed out as he starts skimming his diary. Can’t imagine this will help. They’ve already checked all the criminals he helped to convict. All still in jail or with rock-solid alibis. Matthew can’t see how his less serious work could have anything to do with this. ‘I’ll keep checking and send you an update.’

Matthew continues to scroll through his diary as he speaks and is hit by a sudden realisation. ‘ Damn. ’

‘Why – damn?’ Mel’s voice.

‘Sorry. Just thinking aloud. Nothing important. Checking my diary and I realise there’s something I forgot to do. Feel guilty, that’s all.’

‘A case you forgot about?’

‘No. Not an active case.’

‘Tell me anyway.’

Matthew calls up the diary entry. ‘It was a young woman. Kid really. Just nineteen. Wanted me to look for her mum. She was in the office the day Amelie disappeared. When the call came from Sally, I had to usher her out fast. Said I’d bump the case to another PI. But I completely forgot.’

‘Did you get a name? The young woman. The misper?’ Mel presses.

‘Yeah. Sure. Here somewhere.’ Another pause as he calls up his notes. ‘Only very basic details. Like I say, I haven’t taken the case. Not officially.’

‘But this was the day Amelie disappeared. Yes? We should at least check it.’

‘Ah. OK. Here are my notes. Kid of nineteen. Mum left the family when she was eight. With another man apparently. Father a bit strict, a bit controlling, the kid said. She wants to find the mother to see if she can live with her with her daughter for a bit.’

‘Any more on the father?’ Mel sounds animated.

‘Why?’

‘Humour me.’

‘Sorry. Not much. Like I say, no time for a proper interview because Sally phoned. Hang on. Here it is. A teacher, she said. Yes. Her father’s a maths teacher.’