Patricia broke the stunned silence that followed Johnnie’s outburst.
‘I’ll make another cup.’
Minutes later the three of them took seats in the lounge area.
‘I think the police are coming for me, so we haven’t got much time,’ Johnnie said. ‘But I need to tell you this myself, so you hear my truth and not someone else’s version of it.’ He dragged in a deep, heavy breath then exhaled loudly. ‘I wasn’t in Ibiza when Katy was taken and murdered. I was here, in Saros.’
Patricia shared a bewildered look with her husband.
‘Dear boy, that can’t be possible,’ said Philip.
‘It is. I lied. I’d sailed across from Ibiza two days before because I wanted one last shot at persuading her to dump Declan for me. Katy knew I was coming.’
Philip and his wife sat in stunned silence, until Patricia spoke.
‘That day on the beach, she left purposely to meet you, didn’t she? She engineered a row with me so she could flounce off.’
Johnnie nodded.
‘Yes, but she never turned up where we arranged to meet. I waited and waited but there was no sign of her. I assumed she’d changed her mind about seeing me.’
‘Why on earth didn’t you tell us?’ asked Patricia, her voice quavering with rage. ‘That was vital information that could’ve helped the police track her movements. Where were you planning to meet?’
‘On the boat I had back then,’ said Johnnie, shamefaced. ‘I was moored on the far side of the marina, where I wouldn’t be noticed.’
‘Where we wouldn’t have noticed you,’ she said icily. ‘That’s almost half a mile from the beach – Katy could’ve gone missing at any point between there and the marina. But instead by saying nothing you let the police search in the wrong place. I will never forgive you for this, Johnnie.’
‘I don’t blame you, but in my defence I just panicked. I never thought we wouldn’t ever see Katy again, I thought she’d turn up safe. I knew she wouldn’t want to risk your wrath by admitting she was seeing me, so I kept quiet, for her sake.’
Patricia erupted. ‘Don’t you DARE try to blame me for your actions—’
‘I’m not trying to! I was being selfish too. I knew what the police would make of our secret meeting – they’d assume I was the one who must’ve killed her.’
Philip couldn’t help himself.
‘Did you kill Katy?’
Their godson’s face drained of colour.
‘How can you ask me that?’
‘Because you’ve lied about everything else! And now there is another girl missing. Are we to assume those are Jade’s earrings and they just happened to turn up on your boat?’
‘Someone put them there!’
‘But that’s not the only evidence against you.’
‘Philip!’ Patricia admonished. ‘You mustn’t say anything.’
But her warning was not enough to stop him.
‘We’ve also seen the photograph of you with the hire car, and we know about the suitcase. Is that where you put Jade, before you hid her someplace else?’
‘What hire car?’ asked Johnnie, flabbergasted. ‘What suitcase? What are you talking about?’
‘You were seen,’ said Philip, ignoring his seething wife.
‘I’ve never had a hire car in Saros.’
‘What about the earrings then? Where did you get those?’
‘I told you, someone planted them in the ice box.’
‘Poppycock! You lied about going fishing. Where had you been on that dinghy? To dispose of Jade’s body somewhere?’
Johnnie looked to Patricia in desperation.
‘I never hurt Katy, I swear. I loved her.’
Her expression wavered. ‘I know you did. But people kill all the time in the name of love.’
‘But not me! I wouldn’t have harmed a hair on her head. Nor Jade – it’s not me who’s got her.’ Johnnie raked a hand through his hair, desperation coming off him in waves. ‘Look, this morning I was out on my dinghy because I had to deliver something to my friend’s yacht, which is in the next bay. I said I’d been fishing because what I was doing was illegal. I swear to God I’ve never seen these earrings until you knocked the ice box over and they fell out. Someone came on board my boat and put them there.’
Philip didn’t know what to believe.
‘What were you delivering?’ he asked.
Patricia answered for their godson. ‘It was drugs, wasn’t it? I always wondered how exactly you funded your lifestyle. I should have guessed.’
As Johnnie hung his head, Patricia turned to her husband. ‘I believe him—’
A volley of bangs on the apartment front door suddenly interrupted them. Philip jumped in fright and Johnnie reared out of his seat in obvious panic.
‘It’s the police,’ he said.
‘Let me deal with them,’ said Patricia, rising quickly to her feet.
But nothing she said could dissuade the Spanish officers from doing what they were there to do. DCI Walker, DC Paulson and DS Shah had accompanied them.
‘Johnnie Hickman-Ferguson, we are arresting you on suspicion of the abduction and homicide of Katy Pope, the abduction of Jade Reynolds and the attempted abduction of Lara Steadman,’ said one of the Spanish officers in broken English. ‘You are also wanted for questioning in connection with the attempted abductions of three women in Es Cana . . .’
Johnnie drowned out the rest of it by letting out a high-pitched wail.
‘It wasn’t me; I didn’t kill Katy! Tell them, Patricia, please.’
But it was too late. The officer restrained Johnnie’s arms behind his back while a colleague applied handcuffs.
Horrified to see their godson arrested, Philip grabbed Walker by the sleeve.
‘You can’t possibly think it’s him,’ he implored.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Pope. We need to let them do their job.’
‘I’ll call George,’ Patricia told Johnnie. ‘He’ll know what to do. Where is he?’ she asked Philip, as Jasso’s men bundled a now-crying Johnnie out of the apartment.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since he got back from the airport.’