‘I’ve been watching you for the past five minutes. You look like you’ve booked a trip on a world cruise but found out you’ll be sharing a cabin with Donald Trump and Nigel Farage,’ Adele Kean said as she entered her office. Her hair was wet and there was a strong scent of conditioner. She’d obviously recently showered after performing a post-mortem.
Matilda Darke had been waiting for her for around half an hour. There were so many conflicting thoughts going through her mind she hadn’t registered Adele’s presence. She looked up.
‘Sorry?’
‘Is everything all right?’ Adele closed the door behind her and perched on the edge of her desk.
‘No. Something bad’s just happened.’
‘Oh my God. Has someone on the team died?’ Adele asked, slapping a hand to her chest.
‘No. Nothing like that.’
Adele visibly relaxed. ‘Oh good.’
‘Adele, I really need your advice on something. Are you free to talk right now?’
‘Yes. I’ve just finished Calvin Page’s autopsy.’
‘Shit, I forgot all about that,’ Matilda said, running her hand through her hair. ‘How did it go?’
‘Blunt force trauma to the head, like I said at the scene. I’ve found samples of metal filings within the wounds. I think you’re looking for something like a hammer or a wrench, perhaps.’
‘Did you use your fancy-pants fingerprinting thing?’
‘I did. No drugs, but plenty of alcohol. I’ll send my report later today. So, come on, let’s hear all this juicy gossip,’ she said, pulling up a chair and trying to get as comfortable as she could in her incredibly cramped office.
Matilda filled Adele in on the whole story of Aaron Connolly and his affair with Leah Mercer and the possible snowball effect it would have when the case came to court in November.
‘Bloody hell,’ she said, sitting back and blowing out a breath. ‘I mean, I know all men are shits, but I always thought Aaron was a true family man.’
‘So did I. He’s bored us for years about how much he and Katrina love each other.’
‘It’s always the quiet ones, though, isn’t it?’
‘That’s why they’re quiet. If they talk a lot, they end up spilling their secrets.’
‘Poor Katrina.’
‘Have you met her before?’
‘Yes, a couple of times. She’s a bit loud, but she’s lovely.’
‘I remember when they got married,’ Matilda said. She sat back in her seat and was visibly relaxing now. Her shoulders were no longer hunched up beneath her ears with angst and worry. ‘He was so nervous, more than usual for a bloke about to get married. He worried he wouldn’t be a good husband, a good father, that he’d somehow ruin the happiness Katrina represented.’
‘It sounds like he knew what lay ahead in his future.’
‘He didn’t have a very good childhood. His parents split when he was about four and the custody battle went on for years. His parents despised each other. He told me that he always said he wouldn’t get married but when he met Katrina, he knew she was special. He just hoped he wouldn’t turn into his father and ruin everything.’
‘And that’s exactly what he’s done.’
‘Maybe.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think I can keep this out of the newspapers and allow Aaron to deal with this privately.’
‘How?’
‘Well, Danny Hanson wants an exclusive. He doesn’t care what the story is as long as he gets a massive front-page lead which will look good on his CV.’
‘Yes. So what?’
‘I just have to give him another exclusive.’
‘You don’t have one.’
‘I do.’
‘Really?’
Matilda took a breath. ‘Carl Meagan.’
‘What?’
‘I could give Danny Hanson the exclusive on Carl Meagan being found in France.’
‘But you don’t know he really is Carl Meagan yet, do you? Have you had the DNA results back?’
Matilda looked away. ‘Not yet.’ LIAR!