The Woman Who Lied(79)

I hop off the wall, feeling a hundred years old, and head back to the bedsit where another praying-mantis victim is waiting.





54





Emilia is still thinking about her conversation with DI Murray when she pulls onto the driveway. She feels as if a weight has been taken off her shoulders. She’s passed the baton to someone else now, and they can run with it. She knows Elliot will be furious with her, but she had no choice.

She turns off the ignition and sits for a while, her heart heavy, summoning all her strength to go into the house and face Trevor, remembering DI Murray’s warning about jumping to conclusions.

She swallows, acid burning the back of her throat. You can do this, she tells herself, getting out of the car and heading into the house. She can hear voices coming from the kitchen. The door is open: a man is standing talking to Elliot and Trevor by the island. She vaguely recognizes him, and when he introduces himself as DS Shawn Watkins, she remembers where from. She’d met him the night she found Louise’s body.

‘I’m here to talk to your husband, Mrs Rathbone, about a bicycle,’ he says.

Emilia turns to Elliot but he doesn’t say anything. He continues to stare straight ahead at the detective. Her attention is back on DS Watkins now as he repeats what DI Murray had told her on the phone just half an hour ago.

‘We checked the bike’s serial number and it’s registered to your husband, Mrs Rathbone.’ She can tell by the look on Trevor and Elliot’s faces that they’ve just been told this before she walked in and interrupted. DS Watkins is holding something. He steps forwards and passes it to her husband. It’s a photograph of a bike in a lurid green. It looks like Elliot’s.

‘Is this your bicycle, Mr Rathbone?’ asks Watkins.

Elliot clears his throat. ‘Well, yes. I mean, it looks like it. It’s the same colour. But …’ his eyes flicker towards Emilia for the first time since she arrived ‘… it was stolen. About a week ago, wasn’t it, Em? We have evidence. It’s on the app.’

Emilia gets out her phone, her fingers feel too big as she fumbles for the right app. She spools back to the night the bike was stolen, remembering how they’d thought the person who took it had been Louise. It was the night before she died. ‘Here,’ she says, handing it over. ‘You can clearly see someone making off with it.’

DS Watkins glances down at the footage. ‘It’s very grainy,’ he says. He looks up at Elliot. ‘Why didn’t you report it?’

‘I told him not to,’ says Emilia, taking back the phone from the detective. ‘Because I recognized the brand of hat and thought maybe Louise had taken it.’

‘DC Greene? And why would she do that?’

Emilia lifts her shoulders. ‘I don’t know.’

DS Watkins looks grave. ‘A witness believes they saw a man on a bike of this description around the time of DC Greene’s murder. And now this bike has been dumped not far from her premises.’

A slant of sunshine creates a sheen on the side of Watkins’s bald head. ‘Would you mind coming down to the station and answering a few questions?’ he says to Elliot.

It should be Trevor they’re arresting. Maybe it was him who took the bike ‘We’ve just explained that the bike was stolen,’ Emilia says. ‘You can see the footage for yourself! If Louise did take the bike, it would have been at her flat and the man who killed her would have used it to cycle off. I don’t see why you need to take my husband down to the station.’

‘It’s okay,’ says Elliot, to her surprise. ‘I’m happy to go with the detective. I have nothing to hide.’

‘I agree. It’s best just to cooperate, son,’ says Trevor, nodding encouragingly and slapping his son on the back, as though he’s thanking him for a great meal, and not because Elliot is on the verge of being arrested.

Elliot brushes her cheek with his lips as he passes. ‘I’ll see you later. Don’t worry, it’s all just procedure.’

She can’t speak. She watches him walk from the room followed by Watkins, leaving her alone in the kitchen – and in the house – with Trevor.





55





They stand there, speechless, for a few moments.

‘Emilia …’ Trevor begins moving towards her, still cradling his bad arm. She backs away, slowly, towards the door. She steels herself. If he threatens her in any way she’ll hurt his arm. Or kick him in the groin. She’ll – ‘Emilia? Are you okay? You look terrified. Don’t worry about Elliot. He’ll be fine. The fact you can prove the bike was stolen means it could have been anyone using it to get away.’

It doesn’t make sense to her. Why have the police asked Elliot to accompany them to the station when they had already explained that the bike was stolen? Did the man fleeing the scene match his description? Would he really kill to protect his dad even if he is lying about being Ash? The questions spin around and around in her mind.

‘Maybe it was you who stole it,’ she spits. ‘You have a key. You know how to deactivate the alarm.’ She backs out into the hallway. Not far from the front door.

He stops, his brow creasing. ‘What are you talking about?’ By now she’s at the glass doors. Elliot left them open and she steps backwards into the porch. Trevor moves towards her again.