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‘Everyone’s flummoxed,’ says Jess.
‘There’s been a subtle request for information from anyone living in Cardiff, Oxford, or Cheltenham, as you probably heard,’ Mike says. ‘But we’re not hopeful. The only even vague similarity between the two victims so far is that both were single and both were comfortably off. But money doesn’t really seem to be the motive, and we simply have no idea what is, and that’s the problem. One of the many, many problems.’
There’s silence for a few moments. I pick up my mug, take a sip of tea, and put it down again.
‘Any clues on their social media, anything like that?’ I ask.
‘Nothing that we can find,’ Jess replies. ‘Jane didn’t really use it, other than a private Facebook account she just used to keep in touch with friends and family. Lisa had an Instagram account which she posted the occasional photo on but nothing very personal, and she didn’t interact with anyone on there much. So that hasn’t been of any help either. Nothing has.’
‘I don’t use it either,’ I say, and I see Jess raise an eyebrow, as if surprised, but she doesn’t say anything. I’m glad; it probablyisunusual, for someone my age, but I’ve never been a fan of putting myself out there on Twitter or Instagram or whatever. My scars, my background – it’s not for me.
‘OK. So, what now?’ I say.
‘Well, I know we have a couple of months before the threat against “Mary”,’ she says – she draws inverted commas in the air as she says my name – ‘but have you thought much about what you want to do on the 1st of April? We can put you in a safehouse, somewhere nobody can get to you. Would you like me to start arranging that? I’d be there with you; you wouldn’t be on your own, if that worries you.’
It’s my turn to sigh.
‘I just don’t know,’ I say. ‘As you can imagine, I’ve been thinking about this non-stop. If the threatisagainst me – and let’s just assume it is, because I think we have to, for now – then he must know that by warning me so far in advance, he’s not going to be able to kill me, is he? He’s made it impossible for himself. He must know that I’m going to hide away somewhere he can’t find me.’
Jess and Mike both nod.
‘So,’ I continue, ‘I’m half tempted just to stay here in the house and see what happens. It might be your best – maybe your only – chance of catching him. Use me as bait, almost. Let him come for me, if he dares.’
I pause, feeling a little surprised that I’ve actually said it out loud. This idea, to stay put instead of running away, has actually been something that’s been slowly forming in my brain for the past twenty-four hours or so, although this is the first time I’ve actually said it to anyone.
But, well, it might work, mightn’t it? He’ll know police will be watching, but he’s got away with two murders already. Might he be cocky enough, determined enough, to try? And could I risk that? With police close by, I might not actually die. They might actually catch him. And the story … What. A. Story.
Mike is raising an eyebrow.
‘Well … I don’t know, Mary. But I’ll pass on your willingness to do something like that to the team. Your safety is our top priority, obviously. And ideally, this person will have been stopped long before the 1st of April. We’ll get a safehouse lined up too though, OK?’
I nod.
‘Sure. As you say, we have lots of time. I’ve also considered leaving the country, by the way. An old friend of mine, Lucinda, is working in Botswana at the moment. I thought I might head out there, possibly. I’ve messaged her and she says it would be fine. She’s working on a wildlife project literally in the middle of nowhere … I can’t imagine he could follow me there.’
Jess grimaces.
‘OK, well, travelling could be risky but we can discuss that nearer the time,’ she says doubtfully.
‘Indeed,’ says Mike. ‘The important thing is that we have options. Good. We’ll stay in close touch though, right? If we find out anything we think you need to know, we’ll tell you.’
‘And if you think of anything, or anything happens, or … well, you know the score,’ Jess says. ‘You have my number, don’t you? Call me anytime, day or night.’
I nod, wondering if I should mention the coincidence of Pete’s visit to Jane Holland’s casino only a few weeks ago. She did just say ‘if you think ofanything’, after all. Then I immediately decide against it. Pete didn’t, to his knowledge, even lay eyes on Jane while he was there. It was just that, a coincidence, I’m sure of it.
They leave shortly after that, Jess actually patting my arm as she walks out of the front door, leaving me feeling a little guilty about my original assessment of her.
She’s just a quiet, serious woman doing a tough job, isn’t she? She’s OK. We’re all on the same side, after all. We all want to find out who’s behind this. We all want to stop him before he can hurt anyone else. So, onwards. What now?
I reach for the piece of paper DI Stanley gave me. It will do no harm to change the locks, and it might even help me to sleep a little more soundly, especially if Pete’s going to be spending more nights with Megan. The nightmares were back last night, my sleeping mind taking me to dark places I haven’t visited for years, my body rigid with terror when I woke, heart thudding, tears running down my cheeks. New locks won’t banish the bad dreams, I know that. But they might help me feel a bit less vulnerable, and it’s one thing I can do right now, to make me feel a little better. To make me feel like I’m doingsomething. I pick up my phone and call the locksmith.
