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twenty-four hours missing
chapter 15
alex
The police haven’t decided yet if they believe I’m guilty. But they’re certainly keeping the possibility on the table.
‘If something happened to Lottie,’ Bates says. ‘If there was an accident, Alex, and you panicked. Now would be the time to tell us.’
‘When?’
‘When?’
‘Whenwas this accident?’ I ask incredulously. ‘Twenty witnesses will tell you I went straight from the wedding to the reception by the pool. According to your own evidence, Lottie was alive and well at that point. Another dozen people can confirm I wasn’t on my own for a second at the reception.Whencould I have hurt her?’
‘Alex, no one is accusing you of anything,’ Bates says. ‘As I told you, we simply have to consider all the possibilities.’
‘There’s a significant period of time when you’re not in any of the photos,’ Lorenz says. ‘Over an hour, in fact.’
‘And I’ve told you what I was doing then, and with whom!’
‘Mrs Martini—’
I push back my chair. ‘I don’t think I should continue this conversation without a lawyer.’
I’m not foolish enough to think the innocent have no needof lawyers; that those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear.
Bates and Lorenz follow me back to the main conference room where Zealy is waiting for me. A group of college students is playing volleyball on the powdery white sand outside. A catamaran slices through the turquoise ocean in the distance. Already life is returning to normal.Stop all the clocks, I think. How can people sail and play ball while my daughter is missing?
I imagine plunging into the ocean, swimming as hard and fast as I can until I am so far out and so exhausted I can allow the water to just pull me under, and bring an end to all of this.
A young Black female officer approaches Bates, too focused on the urgency of what she has to say to pay attention to me. ‘Lieutenant, we got a witness thinks she saw something,’ she says. ‘A man carrying a kid around the time the girl disappeared. Says she thinks he looked off.’
‘What does thatmean?’
‘I’m just telling you what she said.’
‘Who’s the witness?’
The officer belatedly notices me and hesitates. Bates gestures for her to continue.
‘One of the wedding party,’ the officer says. ‘The maid of honour, Catherine Lord.’
‘Why has she only just come forward with this?’ Bates asks.
‘Says she didn’t realise what she’d seen till now.’
‘Fuck’s sake. Where is she?’
‘Interview two.’
Bates turns to me, but I forestall her. ‘She told me she hadn’t seen Lottie all night,’ I say. ‘I want to hear this.’
‘If it’s important, you’ll be the first to know.’
‘Let her do her job,’ Zealy says. ‘You need to eat something. At least come and have a coffee. You’re not going to do Lottie any good if you don’t look after yourself.’
Bates and Lorenz are already heading towards the interview suite. I allow Zealy to lead me to a couple of bilious-green armchairs printed with pink flamingos in the hotel lobby. She orders us a couple of toasted club sandwiches, but after the first couple of bites I can’t eat any more and put the plate down. There’s a hard lump in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. Even with the benefit of two cups of coffee in my bloodstream, I feel light-headed and oddly detached from my surroundings.
I’m haunted by the truth of the lieutenant’s observation: Lottie knew her abductor. Someone shetrustedtook her. Someone here, at this wedding.
Someone who, even now, is pretending to be my friend.
