Page 100 of The Unforgiven

Sophie bit her lip. I saw Vinny gesture to Mike from the corner of my eye, stopping him from intervening maybe.

“We were awful to her. Evelyn told her a boy liked her and wanted to meet her for a date near the pier. That wasn’t true – we turned up there, laughing at her. We made her drink stuff, horrible stuff, but the worst was one afternoon when we went to this abandoned old mansion house, a proper wreck. We dared her to go in the cellars, then basically we attacked her – or Chelsea and Dolly did. They held her down and made her drink the vodka and tequila they’d stolen, then they pulled her clothes off and called her about how she looked. We all joined in, kind of. I hated what I was saying to her, but I did it anyway because I didn’t want the same to happen to me.” She started to cry again, trying not to sob, I could tell. “She’d have been really drunk and I knew we could’ve killed her. Chelsea and Dolly put this big barrel at the door so it wouldn’t open. It was so heavy. If she’d choked on her own vomit or not been able to get out – no one but us knew where she was. I went back later and collected her clothes, all the ones I could find, and pulled the barrel away from the door so it could open as much as I could. I was too scared to look in. It was horrible. I don’t know why we were so horrible. I hate to think about that time – I can’t even go back to Wales now.” She buried her head in her hands, Mike rubbing her back.

“Will she be in trouble for what happened when she was a teenager?” He looked worried.

I shook my head. “I doubt it. We’re going to need a statement. One of our colleagues will come to take it or you can go to the station in the morning, whichever’s easiest for you.”

She pulled her hands away from her face. “I’d rather do it tonight at home. Then I can wake up tomorrow and it’ll all be over. It is over, isn’t it? You have arrested her?”

“We have. She won’t be coming out.” One way or another. It would depend now on whether Justine, or Kelly-Anne, was fit to be interviewed, or whether she would be detained underthe mental health act. Having met her at Ashcombe House, I suspected she’d be fit to be interviewed and then stand trial.

“Thank fuck for that.” Mike dropped his head. “Who’ll take Sophie’s statement? One of you two?”

I shook my head. “DC Verity Golding or DC Lachlan Dixon. When are you going home?”

Sophie looked more relaxed now. “Another hour or two. We found out when they’d done some tests on me that I was pregnant.” A smile blossomed on her face, watered with more tears. “We didn’t think it could happen because I have endo, but it has.”

“And what she injected you with hasn’t caused any complications?” My medical knowledge would never be the best, and there was no chance of me trying to improve it.

“It was benzodiazepine, so it can have an impact, but they’re not concerned at the moment. They’ll be monitoring me closely anyway. Lots of complications.” She patted her stomach. “Fingers crossed.”

Mike took hold of her other hand as I stood up. “I wish you all the luck with it.” Because sometimes that was what it came down to – sheer luck. “I’ll leave you in peace now, and one of my colleagues will be over in a couple of hours to take a statement.”

“Thank you. You know, for saving my life.” She teared up again. “Not every day you say that, is it?”

“Thankfully not.”

Chapter Forty-Three

“Justine Bellamy, also known as Kelly-Anne Marsh, has been arrested on five accounts of murder and one count of abduction,” Wrigley was holding court, all of the office-based brass joining us. “We’ll be giving a statement to the press this evening. She’s remanded in custody pending an assessment from a healthcare professional and we are treating her as a vulnerable adult, given her previous mental health difficulties, although I am expecting her to have capacity and be fit to interview tomorrow morning. As of yet, she’s said nothing, apart from to ask for Mac over there.”

I sat up a little straighter. I hadn’t been expecting to interview her, but that opportunity wasn’t one I was going to miss.

“Mac, you’ll get your chance to speak to her, but myself and Nick are going to go in first. You can watch.” He foisted his gaze on me. “She’s on suicide watch over night and I’ll point out that she’s refused all food and water we’ve offered so far. Mia, can you give us an account of what happened and how you ended up at the halls of residence?”

“I’d put two and two together that Justine was Kelly-Anne Marsh – the timings worked and Kelly-Anne had disappeared saying she wanted a new life. Taking someone else’s identity was part of her plan. I knew Kelly-Anne had been badly bullied at Aberwyn, and her mental health history suggested psychosis, so a revenge plan could’ve been a fantasy that she decided to bring to life. Justine was Professor Daniel Fletcher’s assistant, and when he provided the addresses, it had the other places she’d lived since being in Manchester. I knew the halls where she’d stayed for several years were now empty, and we’d been looking for a place where she’d taken Sophie and probably killed Evelyn and maybe Morgan.”

“Just in from Jenna,” Nick interrupted. “The garage where you found Sophie is covered with blood stains. They’ve already sent a sample for DNA testing.”

A murmur went across the office.

“Does Daniel Fletcher have anything to do with this?” Wrigley stared at me; keen eyes set to analyse my response.

“We’ll need to take a statement. I believe he knew she’d been someone else before she came to Manchester, and he may have known she was a patient at the same time as Charlie Mason, who he treated when Charlie was first sectioned.” I relaxed my shoulders, preparing to tell one of the biggest lies of my life. “I don’t believe he knew Justine was a killer. If he’d suspected it, he would’ve informed the police. He’d have got a couple of books out of that.”

“And a lot of TV appearances,” Wrigley said. “Which he will do now anyway. I’m going to interview him tomorrow. He’ll need to give a statement.” He took a long inhale. “Well, team, it’s been a long few weeks and we have a result, and we’ve saved a life, so go and have a few drinks. I’ll stick my card behind the bar at the Crescent. But remember, the graft starts with tying up loose ends.”

A cheer went up round the room, the sound of chairs rolling into desks, jackets being put on.

“You coming, Mac?” Lachy hovered over me. “I’d say I’d buy you a drink, but it looks like Wrigley’s doing it.”

“I’ll come for a couple. He’ll only get the first round – and don’t think he’s being generous, he wants to herd us all in somewhere like sheep in a pen, and he knows buying us alcohol is the equivalent of a sheepdog.” It was a good tactic, because it always worked.

We all drifted over to the pub, apart from Verity, who’d drawn the short straw along with one of the other DCs to take Sophie Linwood’s statement. There was chatter and banter about football, and someone mentioned Dr Miz to Vinny, which stirred him up royally.

My phone vibrated with a text as we walked in, so I gave Vinny instructions to get me a glass of prosecco while I checked it.

Atlas.