‘… a marking. Like a recent tattoo but made with a kind of penknife. It’s fresh and I think it was done just before she died or maybe just after. You probably can’t see it from there but it’s small and quite intricate. Triangular with these weird eyes and antennae. I’ve never seen anything like it before. But it looks like an insect’s head.’
I exchange glances with Saunders. We know exactly what it is even though we haven’t seen it in years and Saunders only from police photographs.
A praying mantis.
And then Celia seems to twig. We’ve talked about it before even though she hadn’t been working with us the last time he struck.
Her mouth falls open. ‘Shit,’ she mutters, her eyes locking with mine.
My voice sounds grim even to my own ears. ‘It looks like he’s back.’
4
The front door is open, light spilling onto the frost-coated pavement. Jonas has his back to her so doesn’t notice as she gets out of her Nissan Leaf and makes her way carefully down the path, trying not to slip. That’s one of the many things she doesn’t miss about her ex-husband: how impractical he is. Not like Elliot, who has already dusted their driveway with rock salt. It’s unusually cold for the beginning of March.
‘Hurry up! Your mum will be here in a minute,’ he calls up the stairs. He must hear or sense her at the threshold as he spins around and smiles through his strained expression. ‘Oh, hi, Em. Sorry she’s not ready. I’ve been telling her for the past fifteen minutes to get her stuff together.’ He shrugs to give the illusion of nonchalance but she can sense the stress coming off him like steam. Has Jasmine been playing up? Jonas doesn’t always know the best way to handle their daughter’s moods.
‘How has she been?’ she asks, in a low voice.
He grimaces. ‘Not too bad. Spent most of yesterday up in her bedroom although Kristin did take her shopping this morning. Come in, you’ll get cold standing on the doorstep. Do you fancy a cup of tea while you’re waiting for Her Highness to get her act together?’
She steps over the threshold into the hallway. It’s been decorated a few times since she lived here and now has a warm stone colour on the walls, brass wall lights and a huge mirror that makes the small space look much bigger. Apparently, according to Jasmine, Kristin is going through an ‘interior design phase’。
Emilia contemplates the offer of tea. On the odd occasion, when Kristin isn’t around, she’s agreed. But she’d noticed Kristin’s Mini convertible outside. ‘Thanks, but I’d better be getting back,’ she says, closing the door behind her but just so that it rests on the latch.
‘Sure.’ His smile wavers and she’s reminded of that time, a year or so after they split up, when, after dropping Jasmine back to hers, he’d surprised her by admitting he missed her. She’d just started dating Elliot and she’d put it down to him suddenly wanting something another man had. Which was typical of him. He’s never mentioned anything since but the knowledge is like a secret jewel she occasionally holds in her palm to marvel at before tucking it away again in the folds of her memory. ‘How’s the book going? Finished yet?’
‘Just. Sent to my editor today.’
‘What’s DI Miranda Moody up to in this one?’
‘It’s my darkest yet, I think. A serial killer who brands his victims with an insect’s head. Women stabbed to death. Nice and light!’ She lets out a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Oh, and Miranda dies at the end.’
‘What?’ Jonas stares at her with wide, shocked eyes. ‘Why would you do that? You know I love the old boot!’
‘She’s had ten books. She’s had her day.’
He stares at her, like she’s grown an extra head. ‘But why?’
‘I want to write something different.’
‘I bet your publishers aren’t too happy.’
‘We’ve come to a compromise.’ She tells him about her lunch with her editor on Friday.
‘So Hannah’s reading the finished version now?’
‘Well, I doubt right now. It’s Sunday. But hopefully she’ll get back to me soon because if she really doesn’t think it works she’ll ask me to keep the ending open. Maybe have DI Moody severely injured but not actually dead … I don’t know yet. Maybe that’s the best thing to do.’
‘I personally think you should keep it open. But, then, I’m a fan.’
‘You have to say that, as the father of my child!’
‘Have to say what?’
They turn as Kristin appears in the hallway. All five foot ten inches of her – and most of it legs, her dark hair gathered in a messy but somehow elegant knot atop her head. A sliver of fake-tanned flesh shows through the cut-outs at the shoulders of her jumper. Nearly forty and still as gorgeous as when Emilia had first met her back at university. Instantly Emilia feels dumpy and she pulls her thick wool coat further around herself as though for protection.
‘We were just talking about Em’s new book.’
‘Ooh, yes. I’m intrigued. Loved the last.’
That’s one thing she has to give Kristin and Jonas credit for. They’ve always been supportive of her writing. Fascinated, even. Maybe they’re terrified they’ll appear in one of her books. The pen mightier than the sword and all that. She has been tempted.
‘Thanks.’ Emilia’s cheeks grow hot. She never knows how to take Kristin. Even when they were friends Kristin could swing from charming to acerbic in the blink of an eye. But she’d admired her go-getting nature and her wicked sense of humour. Nobody has ever made her laugh like Kristin used to back when they were friends. And, even though she was gorgeous, she never took herself too seriously – on nights out, she would goof around on the dance floor, not caring how she looked. Even now, all these years later, part of Emilia misses their friendship.
Kristin leans into Jonas, and he drapes an arm over her shoulders, smiling contentedly. It’s been eleven years but it still gives Emilia a surreal jolt to see them so loved up, like she’s tumbled into an alternative universe.
‘We have some news,’ Kristin pipes up.
‘Oh, yes?’ Is Kristin pregnant? She’s surprised that it hasn’t happened yet. Kristin used to say she’d love kids one day. She glances at her former friend’s stomach, which is still as flat as it was when they were twenty-two.
‘We’re moving! At last!’
She feels a surge of relief that there will be no baby yet. Jasmine was still so young, just four, when Emilia met Elliot and then, three years later, had Wilfie. But the disruption and emotional upheaval of a new baby in their lives might not be the best thing for her daughter right now.
‘That’s great news. Where?’ Please don’t say Richmond. Please don’t say Richmond.
‘Teddington. By the lock. A gorgeous house. So much more space, isn’t it, darling?’
Jonas nods and smiles tightly, but Emilia isn’t fooled. She can sense the panic behind his eyes.
‘I’m really pleased for you.’ She knows it’s been hard financially on Jonas since they’d split and he’d had to find the money to buy her out of their house. He’d never wanted to move, which he’s always said was down to his parents living a five-minute walk away, but she suspects it’s because he’s lazy and can’t be bothered with the disruption. Although she remembers the flicker of envy in his face when she and Elliot bought their Victorian villa four years ago. She gets the feeling Kristin isn’t much help on the money front, swapping one venture for the next.