Hugo Gwilym’s house was in darkness when Anni Hepburn drove up and parked outside it. The winter night had cut in cold and black, the roads crammed with pre-Christmas shoppers seemingly stocking up for the apocalypse. It had taken her far longer to drive than she had thought it would and she was just relieved to reach her destination. But something, she felt, wasn’t right.
She got out of the car, locked it, looked round. A Prius was parked one house down. Marina drove a Prius, Anni knew. Identical to the one parked there. She walked over, looked inside. Baby seat. That was Marina’s.
She walked back over to Gwilym’s house, went up the path, rang the doorbell. Waited.
Nothing.
Rang it again.
The house was in darkness, the curtains still open. She had a feeling no one was home. She walked to the front window and, making a visor from her cupped hands, peered in.
‘Shit…’
There was a body on the living room floor. Male, middle-aged. Wearing a dressing gown and little else. A blood halo around his head.
She ran back to her car, opened the boot. She kept a crowbar there for just such emergencies. She ran back to the front door, smashed in a pane of glass, put her hand in, turned the lock. She was in.
Straight into the living room, straight to the body. Her phone was in her hand ready to call an ambulance. She knelt down beside the prone man. Reached out and gingerly moved his head.
He groaned.
‘It’s OK,’ she said, ‘I’m a police officer.’
He groaned again.
‘Don’t try to talk or move. You’ve got a head injury. I’m going to call an ambulance.’
‘No…’
His hand came up, grabbed her arm. There was a surprising amount of strength in the grip.
‘No… ambulance…’ He shook his head to emphasise the point. The movement caused him pain, making him lie back down once more.
‘Try not to move,’ said Anni. ‘Your skull might be fractured. You need medical help.’ She looked at him again. She had a fair idea who he was now.
‘No.’ He gasped as he spoke. ‘No ambulance. No hospital.’ More gasping. ‘No police.’
‘Too late for that, mate,’ she said.
He groaned once more.
‘Who did this, d’you know?’
He started to shake his head again, but remembering how much it hurt, stopped. ‘Can’t… can’t say…’
‘Can’t? Or won’t?’
He didn’t reply.
‘You’re Hugo Gwilym, aren’t you?’
He smiled at that. ‘D’you… d’you want an autograph?’
He’s everything Marina said he was, she thought. ‘No, you’re all right,’ she said. ‘Just trying to make an identification. Can you please tell me who did this? Let’s start from there.’
‘No. Can’t.’
‘I’m police.’
‘No… don’t want police…’
‘Not your decision to make.’ Anni looked round the room, listened. They were definitely the only people there. ‘Where’s Marina? Marina Esposito?’
‘I don’t… don’t know…’
‘Was she here?’
‘Marina? Don’t know… Has she been here? Was she supposed to be here?’
‘Yes, she was. Did she do this to you?’ I wouldn’t blame her if she had done.
‘No…’
‘What happened, then?’
Gwilym rolled over on his side, away from Anni. His hands came up and covered his head. ‘Please, just leave me alone…’
Anni stood up, looked round. Tried to think what to do next. She took her phone out, called Marina. Nothing. Voicemail. She left a message saying where she was and who she was with and to call her as soon as possible. As she ended the call, she had a feeling that something bad had happened. Something had gone very wrong.
Gwilym groaned. ‘Will you go now, please? Just… leave me alone…’
Anni didn’t even bother to reply. She had to do something, take some kind of action. She thought. Then, mind made up, she took out her phone again.
She would call Phil.