This was it. Game over. DS Clarke had finally figured it out. I sat in the interview room, surprised by the lack of panic I felt.
Clarke was pacing around the room, as DC Reynolds sat at the opposite side of the table, looking at me with contempt. I shuffled uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair as Clarke reached for another chair and sat down.
“First, I think we should clarify what you were doing in the depths of Thetford Forest this afternoon, Ms Walker.” Clarke changed the direction of his voice. “For the benefit of the tape, Ms Suzanne Walker was brought into custody after being found in Thetford Forest with fifteen-year-old Carly Dannot, who was reported missing by Children’s Services two days ago. Carly is in foster care and is one of Suzanne Walker’s allocated children in her role as a social worker.”
“I already told you that I was looking for her. The Emergency Duty Team at work encouraged me to track down Carly because we have a good relationship.”
“This is despite the fact you removed her and her brothers from their mother’s care, then split them up into separate foster placements, which led to the brothers, Rhys and Timmy, making a suicide pact?”
Images of Timmy bleeding out on the carpet flashed through my mind. I said nothing.
“You discussed the Dannot case on your television appearance, didn’t you? On the morning that your own daughter, Teigan Walker, disappeared?”
“It came up, yes.”
“And how were you feeling that morning, Ms Walker?”
It washed over me — the shock of seeing Emma Beale’s face on the news, Teigan’s hurtful claims. The loss of control that had come back to me in the therapy session. My cheeks felt warm. “Stressed. I was feeling stressed.”
“And why was that?”
I glared at him. He already knew why. “Because another one of my cases had gone horribly wrong.”
“Anything else causing you stress that morning?”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, trying to grind away what was happening. “And Teigan and I had argued.”
“About what?”
“You already know what we argued about.” The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I tore through the fragile skin on the inside of my mouth.
“For the purpose of the tape, Ms Walker, answer the question.”
I laced my fingers together and clenched. This tape would likely be used in court. I needed to calm down. “Teigan found out I was looking at us moving out of the city. She wasn’t happy.”
“How did the argument end? Was it resolved?”
My head hung down, and I sighed. It was time to be honest, not that anyone would believe me. “I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember? How convenient.”
“It’s not like that. I’ve been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. I genuinely can’t remember those last moments.” My voice trailed off into a weak half-whisper.
“If that’s the case, wouldn’t that suggest something traumatic happened?” Clarke folded his arms across his chest, his expression smug. He had me.
“Possibly,” I mouthed, the word barely audible from my lips.
“You were forty-five minutes late for work that morning, Ms Walker. Why was that?”
I shrugged, losing any fragment of hope I had left. “I don’t remember.”
“Right.” Clarke paused for a moment, probably letting that sink in for the benefit of the tape. “Let’s talk about your sister, Stephanie. You told us that you didn’t have any siblings, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“So, why would you deny your sister’s existence?”
I stayed silent, knowing I had nothing useful to say. I hadn’t bothered to exercise my right to a lawyer. I knew it would have all taken so much longer, and I had reached the point of giving up. As the damning silence roared around me, I started to regret my decision.
“Is it perhaps because you didn’t want us finding out about your family history?” Clarke continued, his tone growing more confident by the second. “Your father died under strange circumstances, correct?”
I dared to look him straight in the eyes, knowing the red of my cheeks would give me away. “My father was an alcoholic,” I said, as defiantly as I could muster.
“Yes, so dying of excessive alcohol consumption suited nicely, didn’t it?”
My heart was banging in my chest, pounding in my ears. This was it. I’d spent my whole life bearing the weight of the secret, and now I was going to go down for murder, and perhaps not just my father’s.
“Your ex-, Ray Jackson, found something in your house the other day, Ms Walker.” Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to know what it was?”
Clarke pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from behind the table. It held a Polaroid picture that I recognised immediately. I didn’t need him to show me what was written on the back because I already knew. KARMA. Right where I had scrawled it all those years ago, along with the date I would never forget.
“For the benefit of the tape, I’m showing the suspect a picture of her father with the word KARMA written on the back, along with a date. Would you care to reveal the significance of this date, Ms Walker?”
I blinked. He had me, and it was all thanks to Ray. Ray had served me up on a silver platter. Ray, the father of my child. My high school sweetheart. Ray, the man I had barred from my life until just a few days ago. My chest ached with betrayal. Of course, Ray knew all about that photograph. In fact, it was that very photo that had ended our relationship all those years before. When he’d found it, it had confirmed what he’d already suspected. That the woman he loved was a murderer. He would never have turned me in back then, but this time his daughter’s life was at stake. Was that what the whole night together had been about for him? Getting his hands on the damning photo?
“It’s the date that Mr Michael Walker, Suzanne’s father, died, or, rather, was killed.” Clarke put the picture down in front of me and waited for a confession.
“I’d never knowingly hurt Teigan,” I said as the tears welled in my eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. But I can’t remember that morning so … I don’t know.” I swallowed the hard lump wedged in my throat. “What if I accidentally hurt her?” It came out as a whisper, but I knew it was enough to change my life forever.