She shakes her head, causing one of her silky icy-blonde strands to come free and dangle by her ear. She tucks it away. ‘I think she was just unburdening herself. I’m not sure … and I don’t mean any offence to you … but I think this sculpture was more for herself.’
‘Then why would she leave me the co-ordinates?’
‘Maybe she thought you could sell it, use the money. I don’t know.’ She coughs discreetly into her hand. ‘Doyou mind if we get out of here? The damp isn’t doing wonders for my chest.’
We’re both sombre as we walk out of the bunker and I lock it up behind me. Solly is waiting for me patiently at the top, his head resting on his paws.
‘So you don’t think Dorothea was killed because of this sculpture?’ I say as we make our way back through the woods.
‘I don’t see why she would have been.’
‘Then who do you think killed her? And why?’
She rubs her hands up and down her arms. The day has turned chilly and a fine mist hangs over the roof of the villa. ‘It could have been Gabe. To do with money. Or it could have been random. A burglary gone wrong. Although, now with Maisie … Rosemary is also worried someone is trying to pick us all off.’
I lower my voice. ‘Did Maisie know about Bobby?’
‘It happened before we met her. But, yes, eventually we had to tell her.’
‘Did Bobby have any family? Someone who knows what you did and is looking for revenge, perhaps?’
‘He had a sister, I think. Older than him. But I can’t imagine she’d come out of the woodwork now, after all these years.’
I offer to make Annette a drink, but she says she needs to leave. I walk with her to her car – a beautiful oyster-pink Lotus that I know Josh would love. Just as she’s about to get in she turns to me. ‘Other people’s secrets are a burden.’ She looks about her as though worried she’s being watched and her whole demeanour changesto one of paranoia. Then she grabs my hands in her gloved ones. ‘If anything were to happen to me, know this, Imogen. We believed we were doing the right thing. All of us. All we ever wanted to do was help women who couldn’t stand up for themselves. I’m not saying we were always right, there are so many things I regret, but our hearts were in the right place.’
Before I can ask her what she means, she gets in her car and backs out of the driveway as though being chased by demons.
After Annette has gone I call DI Shirley. I need to be honest with her about the sculpture. I believed I was doing the right thing in keeping it from her, but now others could be in danger. I feel a strange discombobulation at the thought that the Dorothea I knew was also the same person who killed her own husband. I think of Rachel, or Alison. Would I bury a body for them? And then I think of my mum. What if she had been the one to kill my dad because she’d snapped after years of abuse? Would I have protected her? I like to think so.
‘I’ll be there around four p.m.,’ DI Shirley says after I’ve explained everything to her, leaving out the part about the murder and cover-up, of course. ‘I need to see this sculpture for myself. And, I have to warn you, Imogen, you could be in trouble for withholding this information, considering it could be evidence in a murder investigation.’ Her voice is stern and my stomach flips with worry.
‘I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize … not at first.’
‘You had the prime opportunity to tell me that day I let you and Dennis out of the bunker,’ she admonishes, making me squirm. ‘I don’t know what you were thinking, quite frankly, keeping something like this to yourself, hiding it from me like that. I’ll see you later.’ She ends the call and I stare at my phone, my heart sinking, wondering what I’ve got myself into. I recall the fear on Annette’s face when she left earlier.
I think of my boss, Chris, and my job that still hangs in the balance. I’d been so sure I was going to write a piece about Dorothea after her killer had been caught. But how can I now when there is so much I’d have to leave out, to protect her and her friends?And her killer might never be caught.
I make myself a late lunch, heating up the last of the casserole Josh made at the weekend, and then I take Solly for his afternoon walk to clear my head.
The wind picks up as I head over the fields with Solly. I let him off his lead and he runs in front of me, his ears back, his tongue hanging out. I’m the only one here and I feel a sudden kick of apprehension and the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. I pull my duffel coat further around my body. It’s nearly June but the weather has turned colder.
‘Hello, Imogen.’
I jump and spin around to see Dennis standing behind me with Cady by his side. I didn’t even hear him approach.
‘Dennis!’ I laugh in relief. ‘You scared me. I haven’t seen you for a while. Have you been visiting your daughter?’
‘Sorry. Yes, I got back last night. You looked lost in thought. Are you still trying to figure out Dorothea’s sculpture?’
He bends down to let Cady off her lead and she bounds towards Solly and they run off together. We fall in step behind them.
‘Have you told anyone about it?’ I ask, thinking of Gabe.
‘I’ve kept schtum.’ He mimics his lips being sealed.
I tell him about showing it to Annette. ‘Did Dorothea ever tell you she was once married?’
‘Yes, of course. We were very close. She told me about her father. About Bobby and how much she had once loved him.’
