Finally. He had her.
“What if I accidentally hurt her?” It was nearly a confession, what with the new PTSD diagnosis and her general instability. At that moment the door swung open, cutting short his moment of victory.
“Sorry to interrupt, Sergeant,” said DCI Fitzpatrick, “but there’s someone here you’re going to want to see.”
Clarke frowned, confused. “Wait here with her,” he said to Rebecca as he left the room.
“What’s going on?”
Fitzpatrick stank of cigarettes and air freshener. “You’ll see.” He gestured towards the main entrance of the station.
Clarke strode towards the front desk, half intrigued and half irritated by the interruption. “What is it?” he demanded as he arrived. To his surprise, Stephanie Walker was standing in the entrance, her face sodden with tears.
“Miss Walker, what’s happened?”
“I found it this morning … in her bedroom … ,” she sniffled, “and I was so shocked. I’m sorry I picked it up. I should have let it be.”
He edged closer to the distraught woman. “Let what be? What is it?”
“She’s been under so much stress, but I never thought … I never thought …” She pressed both hands to her face, her words coming out like a wail. “Oh God, I can’t believe it.”
“Stephanie.” Clarke enunciated each syllable. He was losing patience with her tantalising half-sentences. “Tell me what has happened. Now.”
She trembled as she reached into her satchel and confirmed his worst fears for Teigan’s safety. The purple scarf. The one Suzanne had said Teigan was wearing the morning she disappeared. And Steph had found in the house. That wasn’t what had his heart thumping, though.
The scarf was covered in blood.
Clarke marched back into the interview room, throwing the bloodied purple scarf, now in an evidence bag, onto the table in front of Suzanne. She stared at it for a moment before her trembling hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh, God, no … no.”
Rebecca looked in shock from him to Suzanne, before standing up, taking her cuffs from her belt.
He cleared his throat. “Suzanne Walker, I am arresting you on suspicion of two counts of murder, of Michael Walker and Teigan Walker. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention anything, when questioned, that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
She dropped her head into her hands and started to howl. Through her tears, she outstretched her arms, ready to be cuffed.
Clarke looked down at her with a mixture of pity and guilt, knowing she was a broken woman and that he was the one who had broken her.