Part 7 (1/2)

'If I didn't know it was impossible, I would say the same girl had been killed twice.'

17.

The rest of the day had dragged for Maggie. She knew she should be doing something, but she didn't know what. She felt helpless, and alone. In the end she sat with Lily for a while mindlessly watching her daughter's favourite film, her silent phone on the sofa beside her. She had left the room for just a moment to get the charger from her bedroom when she heard the unmistakable ringtone of her mobile.

She turned and flew down the stairs, but she hadn't allowed for Lily.

'h.e.l.lo. Lily speaking,' she heard a high-pitched voice say.

'Yes, she's here. I'll get her for you, if you want,' Lily added, turning to beam at her mummy, whom she clearly expected to be overjoyed by her daughter's grown-up telephone manner. Maggie tried her best to smile at her as she took the phone.

'Who is it?' she mouthed to Lily.

'A man,' Lily answered loudly, turning back to the television.

Maggie swallowed. Not Duncan, then. She took the phone out into the hall and sat down on the second stair. The phone said the number had been withheld, just like last time.

'h.e.l.lo,' she said softly.

'Cute kid, Maggie. You've got her well trained. You just need to get her to ask who it is next time, so you don't have to whisper to her so obviously.'

Maggie felt her muscles relax.

'Frank, it's you,' she said unnecessarily, recognising the voice of the psychologist. 'Did you call earlier?'

'Yes, but there was no answer. Are you okay? You sound a bit croaky.'

Maggie tried to clear her throat of tears. It hadn't been Duncan before, and the thought was unbearable.

'I'm fine. It's such a c.r.a.ppy mobile signal here. Do you want me to call you back on the landline?'

'No, I can hear you. As long as you really are okay.'

'I'm fine, thanks. What can I do for you?'

'I wanted to talk to you about your number-one weasel client.'

Maggie should have been seeing Alf Horton, the old-lady batterer, before he had to go in front of the magistrates, but she hadn't been able to make it.

'Sorry I couldn't be there, but I can't get out of our road. We're snowed in here.' Maggie glanced out of the window. In truth the road was still covered with snow, but it had turned slushy and several people had managed to escape from their cul-de-sac as, under normal circ.u.mstances, she would have done.

'Your bosses sent one of your colleagues. I watched the interview. The guy's not as good as you, and Alf's backtracking like mad. He's now saying he had nothing to do with the attacks on any of those women.'

Maggie sighed. She could really do without this.

'We all know he did it, so when he didn't deny it yesterday I thought it was only a matter of time before he confessed,' said Maggie. 'If he's going for a not-guilty plea, though, it means we've got hours of his delightful company to look forward to while we work on his defence.'

Frank laughed and tried to engage Maggie in a discussion on the case for a few more minutes, but her mind was far away from Alf Horton.

'Are you sure you're okay, Maggie? You don't sound yourself at all.'

Maggie took a deep breath. 'It's just Horton. I wish to G.o.d I didn't have to defend him.'

'You can refuse. You would be within your rights, you know.'

It was tempting, but she couldn't do it. It would definitely set back her promotion hopes not that they seemed relevant at this moment.

She tried to draw the conversation to an end, but Frank seemed in a talkative mood.

'The police are going to apply for a forty-eight-hour extension before they formally charge him,' he said, interrupting her thoughts, 'which means you'll have the joy of talking to him again. Will I see you tomorrow?'

She had to say yes. She had no idea whether she would make it to the office the following day but couldn't think of an excuse. Ending the call, she ran her fingers through her hair, pus.h.i.+ng it back off her face. She felt she was drowning. Elbows on knees, she rested her chin on her cupped hands, unable to get her thoughts and fears under control.

Sitting there was achieving nothing though, so pulling herself together she pushed herself up off the stair and opened the sitting room door. 'Lily, five minutes, sweetheart, and you'll have to turn that off.'

'Can I see what happens, Mummy?' Maggie was tempted to remind her daughter that she knew exactly what happened next and could recite almost the whole film verbatim. But why bother if her daughter was happy. She had the feeling that unhappiness was waiting around the corner, ready to bite, so she would let her have any happy moment she could.

'When I call you, tea's ready, and you need to come. But you can pause it, if you want,' she said.

She went towards the study, surprised it was silent in there. She pushed open the door.

Josh was kneeling on the floor, staring at the television but there was no sign of a game on the screen, only the face of a woman. Josh was holding the remote.

'Josh? What are you watching?'

Her son spun round, a look of something like guilt on his face. What did he have to feel guilty about?

'Look, Mummy,' he said, his voice tight with emotion. 'She does look like you, doesn't she? I was right.'

Maggie turned her attention to the screen. Staring back at her was a drawing a realistic one of a woman with long dark hair and red lipstick, wearing a s.h.i.+rt with a black and white geometric pattern. She had to admit the woman did look strangely like her.

'Yes, she does a bit. Who is she?'

'She's the woman who was on Daddy's phone yesterday. She's on the news.'

Maggie felt a thud of fear deep in her chest.

'Are you sure, Josh? It's just a drawing.'

Josh nodded, his eyes round with alarm. 'Yes, but it's her s.h.i.+rt. That's what the woman on Daddy's phone was wearing.'

There was something about the face something that made Maggie want to rush over to the television and turn it off right now. But she couldn't let her son know how she was feeling.