“No, I’ve got to go.”
“Random question before you do, have you seen the nail clippers? They seem to have disappeared from the bathroom and I need them,” she says.
My mind flashes to the Tic Tac box, and I stare at Zoe for a long time without answering.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing. No, I haven’t seen them. Speaking of missing things, have you seen my Timberland boots?”
“Yes. They were by the back door yesterday, covered in mud.”
My blood seems to chill in my veins.
“Well they’re not there now,” I reply.
“And I’m not your mother; find them yourself. Why the rush to leave so early?”
“Work stuff.”
“Because they’ve found another body?”
I stare at Zoe again, taking in the fact that she is fully dressed, the way her cheeks look rosy—like they do when she has been for a rare run—and how her car keys are on the kitchen table, as if she has just come back from somewhere. It’s six in the morning, and I can’t think of anywhere in Blackdown that is open at this time of day.
“How do you know they found another body?” I ask.
“Because I’m the murderer.”
She doesn’t smile and neither do I. Zoe has always had a warped sense of humor, but a tiny part of me wonders if that’s all this is. I’ve never known the real reason she fell out with Rachel Hopkins or the other girls she went to school with.
Finally, a corner of her mouth turns upward, and she nods in the direction of the TV.
“Your ex-wife told me.”
This answer isn’t much better than her first, and makes just as little sense, until I see Anna appear on the screen. She’s standing outside the school, and reporting on the second victim, before I’ve even managed to get to the scene of the crime. There haven’t been any press statements yet; the only people who should know anything about a second murder at this stage could be counted on one hand.
“I’ve got to go,” I say again, before heading for the hall and grabbing my jacket from the banister where I always leave it. Something else I do that irritates my little sister. I reach for my Harry Potter scarf, but then decide to do without it.
“Jack, wait up.” Zoe follows me. “Be careful today, okay? I know you used to be married, but you shouldn’t trust Anna.”
“What does that mean?”
“She’s more of a journalist than she was ever a wife, so watch what you say. And don’t … lose your temper with anyone.”
“Why would I?”
She shrugs and I open the front door.
“One more thing,” she says, and I turn to face her, unable to hide my impatience.
“What?”
“Please don’t smoke in the house.”
I get in my car, feeling like a chastised child who has been caught out in more ways than one. I drive to the school I was parked outside only last night and, once again, it would appear that the entire Surrey police force has arrived before me.
There is only one TV truck here for now—Anna’s—but no sign of her or the BBC team, just an empty van. They must be taking a break. I looked up her cameraman on the system last night. It was unprofessional, but I was right to be suspicious. He’s got a record and a past I expect she knows nothing about.
Priya is waiting to meet me in the school reception, and hands me a coffee and a croissant. Her hair is tied up in a ponytail again, but her face looks different.
“I’m not wearing my glasses,” she says, as though reading my thoughts.
“If you didn’t want to see another dead body so soon, you just had to say.”
“I can see fine, thanks, sir. I thought I’d try contact lenses.”
Seems like an odd time to experiment, but women have always been a mystery to me.
“Looks good,” I say, and she smiles. I instantly worry that I shouldn’t have said it—concerned that perhaps paying a female colleague a simple compliment somehow constitutes sexual harassment nowadays—so I take it back. “I meant the coffee,” I add, and take a sip.
Priya’s smile vanishes and I feel like an asshole. I try to steer us toward a less personal subject.
“Where did you find something that tastes this good, at this time, around here?” I ask, holding up the cup.
“It’s from Colombia.”
My response skips a beat.
“That’s a long way to go.”
Her smile returns.
“I made it for you at home before I left this morning; I thought you might need coffee. I have a whole thermos in the car, but I know how you like it in a paper cup—even though that is a little strange and bad for the environment—so I ordered some online. Paper cups, I mean. I just poured it when I saw you pulling in, so that it would be hot.”