‘I didn’t say that.’ She rolled her eyes at him.
‘But what you did just say,’ he said, ‘was that this was for you, that you can do this alone. This is what you are good at, investigating.’
He was right, she had just said that. Her test. Her trial. Her final judgement. Save herself to save herself. That was all still true. Even more so if there was that chance, that possibility, that there was a right man and a wrong man.
‘I know,’ she said quietly, conceding with a long outward breath. She’d known as soon as she’d finished reading the article what she had to do, had only needed Ravi to draw it out.
‘So…’ He smiled the little smile that always got her and dropped her phone into her hand. ‘Investigate it.’
Pip had stared at the numbers so long they were burned into the underside of her eyes. 01632 725 288. A lilting tune inside her head that she could now repeat back, without looking. An ever-repeating loop that had played through her head all night as she’d begged for sleep. Down to her last four pills now.
Her thumb hovered over the green call button again. She and Ravi had tried it five times yesterday, but it rang out each time, no voicemail. It was a landline and Maria Karras must have been away from home. Maybe even visiting her son, they’d guessed. Pip said she would try again in the morning, but now she was stalling, afraid even. Because once she pressed that button, and Maria picked up on the other end, there’d be no going back. No un-knowing what she knew, or unhearing or unthinking it. But already the idea had burrowed deep, settling down inside her head next to Stanley’s dead eyes and Charlie’s grey gun. And even now, as she clicked a ballpoint pen in one hand, she heard something in the click and unclick. Two distinct notes, two letters. DT. DT. DT. And yet, she kept on clicking.
Her hand was resting against her notebook, a new page, beyond her notes on body decomposition and livor mortis. Maria Karras’ number scribbled there. She couldn’t escape it.
Pip finally pressed the call button and put the phone on speaker. It rang, the shrill sound riding up and down her spine, just as it had yesterday. But then – Click.
‘Hello? Karras residence?’ said a muffled voice, the words softened by a Greek accent.
‘Oh, um, hi,’ Pip said, recovering, clearing her throat. ‘I’m looking for Maria Karras?’
‘Yes, that’s me,’ the voice replied, and Pip imagined the woman behind it: heavy eyes and a sad smile. ‘How can I help you?’
‘Hi, Maria,’ she said, fiddling nervously with the pen again. DT. DT. DT. ‘Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday. My name is Pip Fitz-Amobi and I –’
‘Oh my god,’ Maria cut across her. ‘You finally got my message?’
Pip stuttered, felt her eyebrows pulling together. What message? ‘Oh, I… um, your message?’
‘Yes, the email I sent through your website, oh, back in April it must have been. I also tried to send you a message on Tweeter but I can never work these things on my own. But you finally got it?’ she said, her voice climbing in pitch.
Pip had never seen this email. She considered for half a moment, deciding to go with it. ‘Y-yes, your email,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much for reaching out to me, Maria, and apologies it’s taken me so long to respond.’
‘Oh, darling, please,’ Maria said, a rustle down her end as she repositioned the phone. ‘I know you must be terribly busy, and I’m just so happy you got it at all. I didn’t know if you would be doing any more of this podcast, but I wanted to reach out anyway, in case you were looking for another local case. You’re really very brilliant, your parents must be very proud of you. And I just knew this is exactly what we need for Billy, to bring some media attention, which you and your podcast would very much do. It’s very popular, my hairdresser listens to it too. As my email said, we are trying to get the Innocence Project to help us with Billy.’
Maria paused to take a breath, and Pip stepped in, before she lost her chance.
‘Yes,’ Pip said. ‘And Maria – I have to be upfront with you – this call doesn’t mean I will necessarily be covering your son’s case on the podcast. I’d need to do some extensive research before I make any decisions on that front.’
‘Oh, darling, yes, I understand, of course,’ Maria said, and it was almost as though Pip could feel the warmth of her voice, radiating out of the phone. ‘And maybe you are still thinking my son is guilty. He’s the DT Killer, the Slough Strangler, whichever name it is. Almost everybody does, I would not blame you.’