Page 80 of The Unforgiven

We were in exactly the same places as when I told him ten years ago what’d happened in the gym changing rooms when I was fifteen.

Half my life ago.

Yesterday.

“Okay.” My knees pressing together hard enough to leave a bruise for later. “Kelly-Anne Marsh. I need to know everything you can remember about her.”

His expression faltered, his shoulders tightening. “Why Kelly-Anne?”

“She’s connected to the women who’ve been killed. She was on holiday as a teen with all four victims, and Evelyn Smith who’s still missing.” This wasn’t information we were releasing to the public yet. “We need to find Kelly-Anne. What can you remember about her? Even names of professionals working directly with her.”

“Very little. She wasn’t my patient.”

“But Charlie was, and he was close to Kelly-Anne, so what did he say to you about her?” I could see him hesitating. “If she’s still alive, she could be in danger. We want to find her to let her know to be careful, put additional support in for her.”

He sighed, looking out of the window at the yew tree in the garden. “Kelly-Anne was a selective mute. Charlie was one of the few people she’d talk to – she didn’t even speak to her therapist. She had an eating disorder, anorexia nervosa, which I suspected was caused by body dysmorphia and trauma.”

“Had she been abused?”

“Probably. She never disclosed anything. She told Charlie that he was the first friend she’d had, and he was really proud about that. He told me that she’d been bullied and if he ever found the people who’d bullied her, he’d kill them.” Daniel let the silence fall.

It was me who broke it. “Did you think he would do?”

“I wasn’t sure. He wasn’t a violent type when he was level, in fact he was rather gentle, but if he was high or going through a manic episode, I’d say he was capable of it. But when he was in that state, I don’t think he’d be capable of being organised, and all of your murders have been organised, haven’t they?”

“They have. Planned. The locations where we’ve found the bodies have been scoped out. I wouldn’t think someone in the middle of a manic episode would be capable. But Charlie’s dead, so he isn’t our killer.”

“What about someone else who was in the hospital? There was a third person in that friendship, a man called Gray – his full name was Graham. Charlie and Kelly-Ann would spend time with him when he was well-enough. I’ve always been surprised I’ve not seen his name on front page news.”

I filed the name away for a chat with Dave Beardsley. “What happened to Kelly-Anne when she was discharged? Were you aware of where she went?”

“I’d stopped working there when that happened. After Charlie was discharged I finished the contract; it was too far to travel to, really. Mia, I haven’t seen you this nervous since - ” He stopped before saying the words.

“It’s this room. It’s where I told you.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t remember.”

It was a lie. I just didn’t know why.

“If you think of anything else about Kelly-Anne, or the name of anyone she was working with, let me know.” I stood up, picking my bag up off the floor. “Thanks for your time.”

I was out of the building before he’d called my name twice.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“I thought I’d make risotto. It’s goat’s cheese and mushroom, and I’ve made a rocket salad with balsamic to go with it.” Lucy poked her head out from round the kitchen door as soon as I got in, pulling off my shoes and wanting a bath and a sleep and no conversation.

I’d avoided her since Atlas had given me the photos, not sure what to do or say because I was living in her flat and in the middle of a murder enquiry, the most high profile I’d experienced since the missing boy, and dealing with that as well as breaking up with Cavan because he and my flatmate were over-friendly seemed too much to deal with.

So I was hiding. A freeze response. If I didn’t move, they wouldn’t see me. I hadn’t returned Cavan’s calls and my responses to his messages had been brief.

“Amazing - ”

“You are going to have some, aren’t you? I promise the mushrooms aren’t magic and I haven’t seen you for ages. It’s like I don’t have a flatmate.” Her beam was full-on, a little too much to be sincere.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. This case is manic.” I put my shoes away, stretching out my feet like I was about to tumble on the mat, somersault, twist, move. Only I couldn’t. Not here, not anywhere.

“But you still need to eat. Honestly, this risotto is amazing and I’ve got an amazing bottle of white wine to go with it. Fancy a glass?” She was still propping open the kitchen door.