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But even Millie makes mistakes. When the police found her bloodstained running shoes during their cursory search two days ago, she was quick on her feet with the nosebleed story, but she must have known Stacey would blow that out of the water unless she managed to persuade her to sing from the same hymn sheet, which clearly didn’t happen.
And now there’s Felix’s phone.
Whywould Millie keep it? Surely she realised how incriminating it would be. Is there something on it she doesn’t want anyone to see? Or did she bring it with her after she killed Felix, and simply hide it at the back of the airing cupboard until she had a chance to dispose of it properly?
Stop worrying, Dad, Meddie tells me, with alarming insouciance.Even if Mum killed him, she’s way too smart to get caught.
I order the kids delivery pizza, and watch TV with them until it’s time for bed. They’ve only just gone upstairs when Millie finally gets home around nine.
I leap to my feet as she hangs up her coat and goes into the kitchen. ‘I thought I smelled pizza,’ she says crossly. ‘We’ve talked about the kids and fast food, Tom.’
‘I thought we might suspend the normal rules given their mother had just been arrested for murder,’ I say.
‘I wasn’t arrested,’ she says. ‘For murder or anything else.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Nothinghappened. I just gave a statement, that’s all.’
God, my wife can be infuriating.
‘Did the lawyer meet you there?’ I ask.
‘She did, not that I needed her,’ Millie says tartly. ‘The police didn’t ask me anything they haven’t asked before, Tom. They don’t have any new evidence. If they did, they’d have charged me. They still don’t know Felix’s disappearance isn’t voluntary. They’re just fishing.’
She reaches into the fridge for a bottle of chilled Montrachet and pours herself a large glass. She offers one to me, but I decline.
‘How did Felix’s phone end up in the back of our airing cupboard?’ I ask.
‘I have no idea,’ she says.
‘Millie—’
‘Tom, I’ve just spent the last three hours answering questions,’ she says irritably. ‘I really don’t need another inquisition from you. I’ve no idea how his phone ended up in our house, but I can tell youIdidn’t put it in the airing cupboard, so you’ll be relieved to know the police won’t find my bloody fingerprints on it.’
‘Millie, I’m on your side,’ I say. ‘I don’t care what you’ve done. All I care about is making sure this doesn’t come back to bite you.’
She exhales. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.’
She looks tired:beneath her summer tan her face is drawn, and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. Despite her bravado, she’s anxious, too.
Goddamn it, Isodon’t want to be right about Stacey Porter. The woman’s the first proper friend Millie’s ever made. But if my wife didn’t leave Felix’s phone in the airing cupboard, that leaves just one rational explanation: Stacey is the only person other than Millie who’s had access to both her husband’s phoneandour house.
‘It seems odd Stacey wouldn’t remember Felix’s nosebleed,’ I say neutrally. ‘You’d have thought something like that would stick in her mind.’
Millie stares into her wine glass. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of her for two days,’ she says.
I know how much that admission just cost her. Which means Millie’s blind spot when it comes to Stacey isn’t quite as blind as it used to be.
‘Is it possible,’ I venture, ‘that Stacey could have left Felix’s phone here?’
‘Why would she have his phone with her?’ Millie says. ‘And even if she did, how did it end up in our airing cupboard?’
‘Because she put it there.’
Her head snaps up. ‘Explain.’
‘When a husband or wife disappears, the first person the police look at is the spouse,’ I say. ‘If I had a husband I wanted to get rid of, I’d be looking for a fall guy.’
