Monday 12 January 1880
Robert’s body slumped to the ground. Ann stared at it, eyes wide. Dead. He was dead and she had done it. Ann looked around; there was no one to be seen. She had to follow her plan through. Taking out her handkerchief, she wiped Mattie’s needle clean then pierced it through the cloth again. She shoved it into her pocket then looked up as a cloud shifted, revealing a sliver of moon in the black sky. Something glistened in the silvery light. Blood, a pool of it. She pressed her handkerchief over his heart, to try to stem the flow.
The sooner she got his body into the fast-flowing river the better. The stab wound would not be noticed after the body was swept onto the rocks out there. Ann wrapped her handkerchief in the larger one in her pocket, Alfred Johnston’s.
She knelt down and lifted her husband’s legs and began to pull. Good God, how on earth could such a thin man weigh so much? But she had carried heavier weights, like the bundles of jute she used to lug from the delivery area into the mill. That was where she and Alfred, both aged twelve, had become friendly. It had been obvious that he liked her from their first meeting and soon he had fallen under her spell. She gave her first kiss to Alfred Johnston, and the rest sometime later.
Ann dragged the body towards the riverbank and looked up. Dark storm clouds were scudding across the sky. She sniffed the air. Rain. It was driving east along the river. Thank God, she thought, as she thrust the body down the slithery slope. It caught on something on the bank, so she ran back to the bench and picked up Robert’s walking cane. She jabbed at his shoulders and back until he suddenly came loose and shot down the slope, hitting the water with a splash. She looked around again. Nothing. A flash of moonlight glinted on the silver top of the walking cane in her hand. She saw the body jerk a little as the strong current picked it up and Robert drifted away into the dark.
Ann walked back towards the bench and pulled out the handkerchiefs. She began to wipe away blood from the ground then looked up as great drops of rain began to splatter all around. No need, the rain would do it for her. She rammed the handkerchiefs back in her pocket then stared at the walking cane in her fist. If she took it home with her, the servants would find it and questions would be asked. She ran over to the river and hurled the stick as far as she could. With a final splash, the last vestige of Robert Craig was gone. She patted the pocket with Mattie’s needle and as she strode up the Green towards Magdalen Yard Road, she began to work out what to do with that. The rain, which had begun softly, was now pelting down. Heavy rain clouds swept over the sky and as she turned round to look one last time at the river, the moon shone with startling brilliancy.