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‘Mary, good morning,’ she says, and smiles. A small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless.
A little friendlier than yesterday, then. Making an effort. That’s progress.
‘This is Detective Inspector Mike Stanley,’ she continues. ‘We thought we’d have a quick look around and check out your security first, if that’s OK?’
Detective Inspector? He must be at least thirty then,I think, and I immediately feel old.
‘Good morning, Mary. Nice to meet you,’ he says, in a surprisingly deep voice.
‘Likewise. Come in.’
I put the kettle on while they tour the house, and when they walk into the kitchen ten minutes later DI Stanley is scribbling in a little notebook. He rips out the page he’s writing on and hands it to me. There are two names on it, with phone numbers.
‘A couple of locksmiths we recommend,’ he says. ‘You need better window locks, and a good mortice lock for the front door. The ones you have now are adequate, but they could be a lot better. And I notice you have a spyhole in the door but no security cameras.’
I shake my head.
‘I’ve never really felt the need. It’s such a nice area, and it’s quite a busy street and this is a mid-terrace so no side access, so you only really have to worry about the back, you know? But my rear courtyard leads on to the apartment block gardens, which are behind a security gate, so I wasn’t too worried. But – OK, yes. I’ll think about changing the locks, if you think it’s necessary.’
They both nod.
‘It’s just a suggestion for your peace of mind really,’ says Jess. ‘We have no reason to think that there’ll be any threat to your safety ahead of the 1st of April, but, well …’
I nod, feeling an unexpected little shiver of fear.
‘In case he decides to change his timetable, and not tell anyone?’ I say.
She shrugs.
‘Just in case. And of course, as we keep saying, you may not be the Mary in Cheltenham he’s after at all. But better safe than sorry and all that.’
She pauses, looking around the room.
‘Can we sit down for a minute for a quick chat?’
‘Of course. Tea or coffee?’
They both ask for tea – Jess black and weak, Mike white with two sugars. When I’ve made the drinks we all sit down at the breakfast bar, them together on one side, me facing them. They both sit in silence for a few moments, looking at me and, suddenly feeling self-conscious, I pull my hair out of the band that’s holding it back in a ponytail and let it fall around my face, then tug the sleeve of my black jumper further down over my right wrist.
‘So, Mary, anything you want to ask us?’ says Mike.
‘There is actually. Have my alibis been checked yet? I promise you, every single thing I’ve told you is true. That diary came to me in the post. I know you have to tick all the boxes, so I totally get why I’m being checked out, but I’d love for us to be able to move forwards without this suspicion hanging over me.’
Jess nods.
‘Yes, your New Year’s Eve alibi checks out. We had a few issues getting hold of your friends but so far we’ve managed to speak to two of the three people you said you were with and they’ve confirmed you were together as a group here in Cheltenham until after 2am. That’s around the time Lisa was murdered. And over forty miles away. Checks on your whereabouts on Sunday night are happening as we speak. We’re a bit short-staffed at the moment, which isn’t helping. For what it’s worth, I think you’re telling us the truth, Mary. But we’ll make that official later today and then, as you say, we can move forwards more easily.’
She smiles, her second of the visit.
She’s trying, isn’t she? Maybe she’s OK, really, underneath that stern exterior, I think.
I smile back.
‘Good. That’s a relief. Thanks, Jess.’
‘OK, well, assuming now that all is well in that department, Jess will, as you know, be your main point of contact,’ Mike says. ‘And we’re very much hoping you’ll be able to help us out, Mary. I’m sure you’re keeping up with the news online, and honestly we can’t tell you much more than what’s been released to the press right now, which as you’ll be aware isn’t a lot. A figure dressed in dark clothing – running gear – was seen knocking on the door of the Holland home just after midnight and then running away again shortly afterwards. There are no decent CCTV images and, as yet, no witnesses. Thames Valley are now looking at footage from the night of Lisa’s murder again to see if they can spot a similar figure, but, well …’
He shrugs, and rubs a hand across his pink plump-cheeked face.
