Part 8 (1/2)

19.

The picture on the TV in the study was still paused. Maggie had sent Josh to wash his hands before going to the table, but she hadn't been able to take her eyes off the screen. She rewound the news article. The woman had been found dead that morning, several hours after Duncan had apparently received a photo of her. Josh might have been wrong about the photo, but the drawing was lifelike and Maggie could see her own likeness to the victim. If Josh had caught a glimpse and seen the dark hair and the red lipstick it made sense that he had thought it was her. The dead woman's geometric top was distinctive and unusual too. Josh was such an observant child she didn't think he would have made a mistake. This was the woman in the photo sent to Duncan's phone.

Maggie switched the television off and collapsed onto a chair. She didn't think her legs would hold her. Why in G.o.d's name had a photo of this woman been sent to Duncan's phone? She was dead. The woman had been killed. For a moment she felt relieved that if this was a photo of Duncan's lover, she was no longer a threat, then dismissed the thought with a degree of self-disgust. If she had been Duncan's lover, maybe the woman's husband had killed her. He might even have been the man who called earlier?

She thought about the call for a minute. How did it all tie together? She hated the thought that somebody she didn't know could phone her any time. Did that mean he knew her address too?

Maggie couldn't control her thoughts or even keep pace with them. Fragments of ideas intruded and escaped before she could catch them. Had the woman already been dead in the photo that Duncan received? She thought again about the words Josh had used about Maud's eyes and she knew without a doubt that the woman had already been killed when the picture was taken.

She now had a genuine reason to call the police about her husband's disappearance. But if she told them about the photograph, Duncan would become the number-one suspect in a murder. Was she ready to expose her husband to the inevitable manhunt without knowing more?

Not yet.

What's going on, Dunc? Call me, call me, call me. She repeated the thought over and over in her head, hoping that some sort of telepathy would get the message through to him.

She didn't think she could move. She didn't want to move. But she had no choice and so made her way unsteadily into the kitchen. She was going to sit the children down with their tea and then hunt online for every single piece of information she could find about this dead woman.

When the children were settled at the table, Maggie took her laptop over to the kitchen counter, away from Josh's eyes. She had to distance herself from the smell of food too. As it hit the back of her throat she thought she was going to retch.

There were a few articles saying a body had been found, but they were all sketchy. The woman hadn't been named, but it was understood she had been killed some time the evening before. Maggie closed the screen with unnecessary force and pushed the computer away.

'Mummy,' Lily shouted even though Maggie was only a few feet away, 'can I have some milk, please?'

'Of course. Do you want some, Josh?' Even to her own ears her voice sounded brittle, and she was speaking too quickly. She had to quell the rising panic.

What was Duncan involved in? Why did that man want to speak to him? Who was the woman?

'Yes, please.'

On autopilot Maggie walked over to the fridge and opened the door. d.a.m.n it. There was no milk. She usually did an online order on a Wednesday night and Duncan picked up the groceries on his way to get the children on a Thursday. But of course none of that had happened.

'Right, kids, grab your coats. We're going to walk up to the shop for a few bits and pieces. Come on. It will do us good to get a bit of fresh air.'

Suddenly getting out of the house seemed like the best idea she had had all day. The walls were crowding in on her and the cold air might clear her mind. She quickly helped Lily into her coat and her wellies, and grabbed a thick poncho and a scarf for herself.

The snow had nearly gone now; just slush remained on the streets, white in their quiet cul-de-sac, dirty dark grey on the main roads. Josh kicked it with the toes of his wellies, clearly less than pleased to be out. Maggie knew she should be trying to talk to the children, but what energy she had left seemed to be used up by the simple process of putting one foot in front of the other.

When they reached the shop, she bent down to the children and forced herself to speak normally. 'Go and have a look at the sweets. Don't touch, but decide if there is something you'd like. Josh, keep an eye on Lily for me please.'

Josh gave her a look that said 'what's going on?' and Maggie did her best to give him a rea.s.suring smile.

She picked up some milk and headed to the newspapers. Copies of the Manchester Evening News were piled up as if they had only just arrived, and eagerly she pulled one towards her. The front page was full of news of a fire in Chadderton, and Maggie quickly flicked to the next page. Nothing.

'Are you looking for something, love?' the man behind the counter asked. Maggie looked up, a guilty expression on her face. Her frantic search had creased the paper badly.

'I'm so sorry, but I am going to buy this,' she said hurriedly. 'There was something on the TV earlier on the news and I wondered if it was in the paper.'

'Not if it only happened today. Probably be in tomorrow's.'

'The article was about a woman found murdered in Manchester. Did you hear about that?'

The man shrugged. 'Yeah, but I expect the police are being tight-lipped. Means they don't know anything.'

She knew it had been an outside chance. 'I'll take the paper and the milk, please, and the children want some chocolate.'

She turned to Lily who was pointing at some chocolate b.u.t.tons. Josh didn't look very interested.

They made their way home slowly, Maggie having to resort to carrying a tired and unusually whingey Lily for the last five minutes. It was still cold outside, and Maggie was disappointed that there had been nothing more to be learned from the paper. As she turned the corner into their road, she felt a rush of hope that Duncan's white van would be sitting lined up in front of the garage.

It wasn't.

She bundled the children back into the warm house and went through to the kitchen, where she hastily made them bowls of bananas and warm custard to finish their meal.

'Why isn't Daddy here to make our tea?' Lily asked.

'He's working, sweetheart,' Maggie said, drawing another look from Josh. What was she supposed to say?

Maggie still couldn't face the thought of food, but sat with the children while they finished theirs. Normally full of chatter, they were both quiet and withdrawn. s.h.i.+fting her laptop, Maggie placed it on top of the discarded copy of the Manchester Evening News, and glanced at the paper's masthead. Only the corner was visible. She inched the laptop a bit higher up the paper and a bit further to the right so that everything except the top left corner was hidden.

That's it, she thought, feeling a faint leap of hope in her chest swiftly followed by the inevitable crus.h.i.+ng dose of common sense. It would probably tell her nothing.

'Back in a sec,' she said to the children, who barely raised their eyes to hers as she pushed her chair back. She went to the shelf where she had placed the sc.r.a.p of newspaper from Duncan's cupboard. She stared at it for a moment, certain she was right, and took it to the table to compare with the exposed section of the front cover of that evening's edition. The piece of paper she had found in the cupboard dated 16th November 2003 was from the Manchester Evening News.

But how could that be? Duncan had never been to Manchester until they moved there seven weeks ago.

Convinced she was making far more of this than was absolutely necessary after all, the newspaper could have come from anywhere she put the sc.r.a.p away, opened the laptop and found Google. She knew she was clutching at straws, but maybe there was something significant in the news on 16th November 2003. She typed Manchester Evening News archive and got a hit immediately. But it was no use. There was nothing more recent than 1903.

She stared at the screen, drumming her fingers as she considered what else she could do. But her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

Lily leapt off her chair.

'Lily, come back to the table please,' Maggie said automatically. 'You know you don't just leave like that. I'll answer it.'

Hoping beyond anything she would have believed possible that this would be Duncan she lifted the phone to her ear but said nothing.

'h.e.l.lo, Maggie.' It was the voice from earlier in the day the voice that made her s.h.i.+ver. This time she noticed that it was a voice with no obvious accent, and it wasn't the voice of either a very young or a very old man. She took the phone through to the hall and closed the door.

'What do you want? Where's my husband?' She fought to keep the tremor out of her voice. She didn't want this b.a.s.t.a.r.d to know how much he was scaring her.

'I hadn't realised he was such a coward. He's running out of time, and you need to tell him.'

'What are you talking about? How do you know Duncan?' She was shouting and saw the kitchen door start to open. Josh must have heard her.

'Have you seen the news this evening, Maggie?'

She stayed silent. She didn't need to ask which story he was referring to. His voice was slow and measured, almost refined.