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The news broke that afternoon. I was walking up South End Road, past the ponds, in the direction of the overground with Bea Ruthers, a girl from my class. We weren’t friends, but Matty had convinced my mother it wasn’t safe for me to walk home alone, even though I was twelve years old and it was broad daylight.
A crowd was gathered round the newsstand outside the train station.
‘What’s going on?’
A few bodies shifted, giving me a glimpse of the words on the sandwich board—
SHADOW LATEST:
MAN ARRESTED
‘I don’t believe it!’
‘About time,’ Bea said.
‘Do you have any money for a paper?’ I asked.
‘Have you seen how long that queue is? I’m not waiting in that.’
‘Don’t you want to know who they’ve arrested?’
‘It’ll be on the telly. Come on, let’s go.’
‘The line’s moving. It won’t take—’
But she was already marching off, pigtails swinging. I hovered a moment, trying to get a glimpse of a newspaper, but the only thing visible was the headline. The same words as on the billboard.
Back home, I threw myself onto the couch and was just reaching for the TV remote when I heard Bailey’s whining downstairs.
Was Des still not home? The poor animal must be starving.
The ham was all gone. I posted a peanut butter sandwich through the letter box then returned to the TV.
‘A thirty-seven-year-old man was arrested at seven o’clock this morning at his home in Parliament Hill in connection with the murders of nine women in North London,’ Detective Inspector Connor was telling a news conference.
‘This follows a call to the tip line by a witness who claims to have seen the suspect by the bushes near the running track at the time of Gemma Nicholls’ murder.
‘The man is currently in custody and being questioned about the murders. We will not be releasing the name of the police station where he is being held or of the man himself.
‘At this point, he has not been charged. No incriminating evidence has been found in his home, though investigating officers did discover a stash of fetish pornography and a collection of high-heeled women’s shoes. As yet, we haven’t been able to confirm whether any of them belonged to the murdered women.’
When I look back now, I can’t understand why I didn’t make the connection. It was all there, the time of the arrest, the location, what I’d seen out of the window. And yet for some reason, I didn’t join the dots.
Was I simply blinded by that naive belief that bad things happen to other people? Or was there something more innately wrong with me that meant I missed what was in front of my eyes?
Janice and I have debated it ad nauseam. I’m inclined towards the latter. I was an ostrich, up to my neck in sand.
After all, look how long it took me to connect the dots with Matty.
