Her phone began to vibrate and her heart raced in time with it. In the darkness, she could see Briggs’s name lighting up the room. Grabbing it, she held it to her ear.
‘Sorry to wake you but I knew you’d want to be the first to hear this update. We have a man coming in, he says his wife is missing and, get this, they knew our victim, Alexander Swinton. Given what happened to Alex, he’s worried something might have happened to her too. This may be nothing more than a coincidence but given that there’s a link—’
‘I’m on my way.’
‘Are we okay, only you didn’t say anything when you left the station? I thought we were going to go for a coffee after work.’
She inhaled and breathed out slowly. He had asked her to go with him after work and she’d reluctantly agreed. ‘I know, I was just tired. Sorry, I should have told you but my head was killing.’ That wasn’t a lie. Maybe a half-truth would convince him.
‘You didn’t even call to cancel.’
‘Sorry.’ What more could she say?Sorry, I don’t trust you. What is your game? Is it to scare me into your arms so that you get me exactly where you want me? I learned a lot from Terry and I’m no longer the naïve young woman I once was. I’m not playing games like this any more. Not with you, not with anyone.She couldn’t even expose him if that were the case. She had too much to lose. Exposing him meant coming clean about everything. It meant giving up everything she’d worked for. It meant her daughter hating her forever and Terry’s family finally being able to metaphorically burn her at the stake like she was some sort of poisonous witch who had taken the life of their perfect son. ‘I… err… forgot. I went straight home to bed.’
‘Something’s wrong. Gina, talk to me.’
She forced a smile, knowing it would come across in her voice. ‘I swear, there’s nothing wrong. I’m going to have a quick shower and I’m on my way.’
‘Can we head to the café after the interview? It should be open then. We need to talk and I don’t want to talk at the station. We could get some breakfast there.’
Her stomach felt as though a mouse was burrowing in it.
‘Please.’
She let out the breath she’d been holding, slowly and silently. ‘Okay.’ It was time to sound him out.
‘See you soon.’ He ended the call.
She had no idea how she was going to tackle her suspicions over coffee in the morning, but she had to say something. This tension couldn’t carry on much longer, she couldn’t stand much more. It was making her eyes itch and her heart bang. If he was responsible, she’d never trust anyone again.
‘Focus, Harte.’ She hurried to the bathroom and stared at her reflection. Half of her straggly brown hair had stuck to the sweaty side of the cheek she’d been lying on, and several pillow creases were imprinted on her face. ‘Great.’ She cranked the shower on and allowed the warm water and soap to wash away her nightmare.
Chapter Forty-Two
Gina moved her chair a little further away from Briggs. The strip light gave a slight flicker here and there, giving the pale grey interview room a creepy feel. Briggs marked a page up with the time, four twenty. She appreciated that he was stepping to the side and was still allowing her to lead the investigation despite his worries about her. She caught the side of his badly-shaven chin before glancing up at the man in front of her. ‘Mr Burton, sorry to hear that your wife is missing. I’m just going to ask you a few questions—’
‘Marcus, please.’ He paused and bowed his head slightly revealing a thin patch in the middle of his almost white blond hair. ‘You have to find her. We argue like any normal couple.’ He fiddled with his wedding ring. ‘That’s a lie, maybe we argue a bit more – who knows. I don’t know what everyone else is like. But this, her not contacting me at all, it’s out of character. When we argue, normally she storms off and checks into a cheap hotel for the night, sometimes two nights, but then she comes home. When she does this, she always calls the next morning, mostly to have a go at me, but still, she calls, and I’m reassured that she’s safe. She didn’t call on Saturday. Either something’s wrong or she’s punishing me harder for our argument. I’ve called all the local hotels where I know she’d stay and she didn’t turn up at any of them on Friday.’
‘Firstly, can I take a description of your wife?’
He pulled a photo of a mousy-haired, pale-faced woman from his pocket. ‘This is her. She’s about five feet seven and has a slim build. She was wearing a black dress when I last saw her.’
Gina scraped her chair on the floor and got a little closer to the table. ‘Thank you. May we keep this photo for now?’ He nodded. ‘Let’s go back a little. When did you last see your wife?’
‘Friday morning, during our argument. It was all over stupid things like me not pulling my weight around the house. She was right as always. Maybe I don’t appreciate her enough. I could tell there was something else, but she wasn’t saying. She did this a lot, trying to make me guess as to why she was angry in the hope that I’d confess. Thing is, I had nothing to confess to. She then began going on about the toilet seat being up and not wanting to see our friends on Saturday night.’ He bit his lip and stared at the table. ‘She was just being awkward, really. That hasn’t got anything to do with it.’
Deflection, Gina could spot it a mile off. The flickering light was beginning to trigger Gina’s headache again, or maybe it was the lack of caffeine. ‘Hasn’t it?’
‘No, of course not.’ He gave a warm smile. ‘I just want her back home, with me.’
Gina knew there was more to his story. It seemed odd that he mentioned an appointment they had on the Saturday night. ‘What was your relationship like?’
‘Most of the time it’s fine. We bicker a little, but doesn’t every couple?’ He paused. ‘We don’t always argue and the making up normally keeps us happy for a long time. It’s quite routine for us. It wouldn’t pay for us all to be the same. This time, it was different; she had something on her mind and she wouldn’t come out with it. I could tell she wasn’t happy with me but I don’t know why.’
‘What time did she leave?’ Gina scribbled a few notes and Briggs caught up with logging the interview on a form.
‘I didn’t see the moment she walked out of the door as I went to work but I popped home at lunchtime and she was gone.’
‘Did she take anything with her?’
