‘Yes, of course, but there’s a big fat elephant sitting in the room,’ says Tor. ‘Cait was at the house that evening before she went to her mum’s. She said so herself. And the timing of his petrol purchase suggests he might’ve been waiting there for her.’
‘Oh, poor Cait!’ says Sophie. ‘So she might’ve found him in her house and had to defend herself.’
‘But she said she left the house and never saw Owen,’ says Aisha.
‘But she would say that,’ says Tor. ‘Sorry, I’m just trying to be objective.’
‘Objectionable, rather,’ I say.
‘Look, it’s best to think the worst, but hope for the best,’ says Tor.
‘Christ,’ says Sophie. ‘If she went to the house on her own, she’s got no alibi, has she?’
‘Look, no one here thinks Cait did it – do they?’ says Aisha, staring at each of us in turn.
‘It doesn’t matter if she did or didn’t do it,’ says Tor, stumbling upon an insight. ‘It matters that they can argue that she did. He might’ve provided the means, but she not only had the opportunity, she had a motive – he was threatening her and the girls.’
‘You know she was cautioned for threatening him with a knife when they still lived together?’ I say.
‘That’s true,’ says Sophie. ‘Oh God, yes, that’s not going to look good in court.’
‘It can’t be her,’ says Aisha. ‘She’d never do anything to risk losing her girls.’
‘Sometimes even sane people risk everything,’ says Tor. ‘A moment of madness built on years of self-restraint and frustration.’
We all look up at Tor, who is speaking with uncharacteristic clarity and passion.
‘Are you OK?’ says Aisha.
‘Well, a person can make a mistake, can’t they?’ Tor smiles and then bursts into tears and walks out.
We all stare at her. Then we stare at one another Sophie’s eyebrows are raised in astonishment.
‘It’s like the moment inThe Wizard of Ozwhen the Tin Man cries,’ says Sophie.
As Aisha jumps up and rushes to get Tor a glass of water (why this is needed in an emotional crisis I do not know), I think about the likelihood of Cait telling the police about Jason Mercer and decide I need to feel more confident of her continued cooperation.
I am the last to leave. This is not due to my love of company, but because I need to see Tor alone. As she shows me to the door, I hold her hand and say, ‘I’ve got the money for you.’
‘Oh, that’s great. Thank you, Lalla. I owe you.’
‘But I’ll need to see Zac for myself before I send anything to him or this Bitcoin account.’
‘But why?’ she says, immediately suspicious of my motives. ‘Don’t you trust Zac?’
‘I don’t know Zac, so, no, I don’t trust him, I’m afraid. I want to know this will end things for you and you won’t be asked for any more money.’
‘Thank you,’ she says, tearfully. ‘But it’s not him, I promise you.’
‘I’m just making sure. Now, please arrange to meet him. Somewhere public is better, and I’ll show up in your place. Surprise will prevent any preparation, and if I’m reassured that Zac’s not scamming you, I’ll transfer the money and make sure those videos are really deleted.’
‘I’m so grateful,’ she says, and her face contorts and reddens like a child’s.
‘You’ll get through this, Tor, I promise. I’m your greatest supporter,’ I say. And as I look at her, I realize what it is I’m going to ask in return. And she’s not going to like it one little bit.
Chapter42Bronzefield
Thursday, 12 December
