‘You’re going to have to repeat that, Graham,’ Ramouter said.
Graham raised his head. ‘Tabitha opened the door,’ he admitted.
‘What happened?’
‘Oh god. I can’t.’
‘If you want us to find who did this to you, and why, then you will.’
Graham took a pained breath and wiped his bruised face with the corner of the sheet. ‘I’d gone upstairs to get the charger for my laptop, and to use the bathroom. Tabitha was downstairs. We ate late and she was going to clean up. I heard the doorbell and I … I’m sorry. I can’t do it.’
‘What happened Graham?’ Ramouter pushed.
‘I heard a scream,’ he said. ‘Tabitha was screaming for help. I ran out of the bathroom and down the stairs and it—’
Graham put his hands on his ears as though he was hearing his wife’s screams again. ‘She was in the kitchen and there was a man, dressed in black and he was sitting on top of Tabitha, and she was screaming.’
‘What did you do?’ asked Ramouter.
‘I can’t really remember. I grabbed something and I hit him. I remember seeing a knife and I pulled him off Tabitha. Tabitha was screaming but this man, he … I lost my grip, and he picked up the knife and,’ Graham held up his injured hand. ‘I tried to grab it and then he stabbed me.’
‘Where was Tabitha?’ asked Copeland.
‘I told her to get out. To run. I think she ran out of the back door. I managed to get up, but the man attacked me again and I fell against the mirror. I remember slipping in the hallway being stabbed in the arm. It’s all … I don’t know what happened next. The next thing I remember is waking up here.’
‘You don’t remember running outside and being hit by a car?’ Copeland asked as Graham sank back against the pillows.
Graham looked shocked at this. ‘No. No, I don’t remember that.’
‘What about the man?’ asked Ramouter. ‘Can you remember anything about him?’
Graham shook his head. ‘No. I don’t remember anything about him except that he was big and … he smelled. His body odour … yes, I remember that. The smell.’
‘Can you describe the smell?’
‘Beer. Cigarettes and vinegar.’
‘Graham. Why was this man trying to hurt Tabitha?’ Ramouter asked. ‘And why didn’t you tell us the truth in the first place?’
‘I knew she was safe. You told me DC Copeland had spoken to her so I … I knew that she was ok.’
‘What aren’t you telling us?’ Ramouter asked as the door opened and Henley stepped into the room. ‘There’s a reason why this man was attacking your wife. There’s a reason why Tabitha was a target.’
Graham looked at Henley and sighed deeply as though he’d resigned himself to the inevitable. ‘Tabitha had a car accident. It wasn’t her fault. Tabitha was arrested and they charged her. It nearly broke her, broke us. She pleaded not guilty but then the prosecution offered a deal, and she changed her plea. I didn’t want her to take the deal, because she’d done nothing wrong, but Tabitha wanted it to be over.’
Graham took a breath as his eyes filled with tears. ‘We thoughtthat would be the end of it when she was sentenced but that was just the start.’
‘The start of what?’ Ramouter asked.
‘The harassment. The first letter arrived the day after Tabitha was sentenced. Hand delivered.’
‘What did the letter say?’ Ramouter asked.
‘That she would always be guilty. The following week someone keyed our cars, threw red paint on our windows and posted negative reviews about our businesses.’
‘And the second letter?’
‘It arrived last week,’ Graham grimaced. ‘It was a demand for money with bank details. I threw it away. I didn’t hear anything more until a couple of days later and I woke up to find that someone had slashed my tyres.’
