Alice was still reeling as O’Neill meandered the Honda back along the road. They’d be back in Chilworth soon, but Alice’s mind was spinning as her world crumbled before her eyes.
Ben a killer?
It was impossible, wasn’t it?
The Ben she’d met and fallen for was sweet and kind, someone who tried to make her every day better than the one before. The man Mary had described was cold, manipulative and calculating. If it hadn’t been for the photographs she’d discovered, she would have argued they were talking about someone else.
What made it worse was that Alice had no doubt that Mary and O’Neill believed every word they’d told her. Alice had spent half an hour questioning Mary, phrasing questions in different ways in an effort to trigger different responses, but the older woman had stuck to her story, and hadn’t swayed once from the script.
If Ben had displayed any of the traits they had described in front of Alice, she never would have married him. Was it not possible they had misinterpreted his youthful actions and shaped those memories with the bitterness both felt towards the man who had chewed up and spat them out?
How could Alice trust the words of a woman who felt she’d been used and cheated on? Or a man whose formative years had been negatively impacted by name-calling and sparring? Both Mary and O’Neill had motives for wanting to paint Ben in a bad light, and neither could deny the pleasure they would get from seeing Ben exposed to karma.
Neither had any hard proof that Ben had done anything wrong. It was certainly suspicious that his handwriting was discovered on the life assurance application form, but that didn’t mean he had tricked Mary’s mother into signing something she didn’t want to sign.
Mary had gone on to explain how Ben had been in possession of one of two spare keys to her mother’s property, with the other held by Mary.
‘He had the opportunity,’ she’d told her.
Mary’s mother was discovered by a community nurse who had called round to drop off a prescription. She’d been dead at the bottom of the stairs for at least fifteen hours when she was found, according to the forensic pathologist who had examined her body. There were no signs of a struggle, and a patch of bruising around her ankle was consistent with a twist, which could have led to a fall. It could just as easily have occurred as a result of the fall though, and so an open verdict had been recorded.
Mary had pestered the police until they’d agreed to open an investigation and look into her accusations against her soon-to-be ex-husband. When they learned about the insurance documents they confirmed he had means, motive and opportunity. The fact that his car had been seen at the address by an eagle-eyed neighbour a few hours before the alleged fall was a fact that the police had heavily relied on in court.
Despite all the circumstantial evidence, Ben didn’t once change his story. O’Neill and Mary hadn’t gone into too much detail about what had happened at court, other than Ben had pled not guilty and been found as such by a unanimous verdict.
‘Are you sure you want to go home?’ O’Neill asked as they passed the ‘Welcome to Chilworth’ sign. ‘I could drop you at a friend’s for the night while you make a decision about your next steps.’
She glared at him. ‘Why wouldn’t I want to go home to the man I love?’
O’Neill didn’t reply, but the contempt was written all over his face.
‘You’d better drop me at the pub; I don’t want Ben to see us together.’
‘Very well,’ he said, indicating as the pub appeared around the bend. ‘But if you change your mind, or if you decide you need to get away in a hurry, I want you to call me. Okay? I know you don’t want to believe what we told you, but at some point you’ll see that we’re right. When that happens, I want you to call. Day or night – anytime.’
She still had his business card in her purse, not that she intended to use it.
He pulled into the car park at the rear of the pub and Alice climbed out, slamming the door as she did. Once he’d pulled away, she made her way slowly back along the road towards the house.
As she drew closer, she was surprised to see the shaved head of a man in a skintight black top and combat trousers staring back at her from the other side of the gates.
‘What’s your business here?’ he demanded.
His eyes were cold and dark and his tone sent an instant shiver down her spine.
‘I-I-I live here,’ she stuttered.
‘Name?’
‘Alice Goodman. Where’s Ben? Where’s my husband?’
He held up a finger and whispered into the compact radio hanging from a clip just below his shoulder. He waited for a response before nodding and using the remote to open the electrified gate.
‘Sorry, ma’am,’ he offered with little sincerity or emotion. ‘Can’t be too careful. Mr Goodman is waiting for you up at the property. Mind how you go.’
It was like a small army had invaded. More men, more shaved heads, and more skintight black tops occupied the inner perimeter of the property, some bearing large German Shepherd dogs.
‘Ben, what the hell is going on?’ she asked, as the front door opened.
He didn’t reply immediately, instead rushing forward and wrapping two warm arms around her shoulders. ‘Oh thank God, I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been?’
She was about to respond when one of the patrolling guards came near them.
‘How about we go inside and talk?’ she suggested, and Ben led the way, closing and locking the door behind them.
Alice hadn’t noticed Ben’s parents’ car in the driveway, but she instantly recognized the smell of his mum’s perfume and Ray’s embossed jacket hanging on the back of the door. It was no surprise that Ray had come running when Ben had phoned. He poked his head around the door of the living room and nodded in Alice’s direction before scampering back to update his wife that Alice was back.
‘I didn’t know what to do,’ Ben said. ‘You just vanished. I tried calling you, but you left your phone here. I was so worried. Dad and I were about to drive around and search for you.’ He paused as his eyes fell on the fresh scabs on her legs. ‘What happened?’
‘I fell,’ she said, waving away his concern. ‘I’m fine now, but I was running, and it was wet, and … silly really.’
‘You raced out of here more than two hours ago, Alice. I’ve been worried sick. I was terrified the person leaving the notes had abducted you or something. I’ve even had that DC Hazelton on the phone to report you missing.’
Alice blushed. ‘What did she say?’
‘She told me you wouldn’t be considered a missing person until you’d been gone for more than twenty-four hours, but agreed to pass your description to the uniform patrol. I’d better let her know you’re back. Where did you go? Where have you been?’
Alice moved past him and into the living room. The hushed conversation between Ben’s parents stopped instantly. She wouldn’t have chosen to confront Ben in front of his parents, but he’d be less likely to lie with them there, and she needed answers.
Dropping onto the sofa, she took a deep breath. ‘I was putting your clothes away earlier,’ she began, ‘and I accidentally knocked an old shoebox to the floor. It contained a ton of old photographs.’
Ben didn’t look bothered by her admission. ‘And?’
‘I wondered why you’ve never shown them to me before.’
Ben pulled a face. ‘They’re just old photos. I don’t know why I’ve never shown them to you. There’s no reason really. What’s this all about?’
Alice looked from her in-laws to Ben. ‘The photographs all appear to be from before the two of us met. It just struck me as odd that you hadn’t shown them to me, and that you kept them hidden away in a dusty old shoebox.’
‘I told you: there’s no reason. They’re just some stupid photographs from a time in my life I’d prefer to forget, that’s all. I’m sure I haven’t seen every photograph you’ve ever been in.’ He considered her for a moment, before his eyes lit up with realization. ‘This is about her, isn’t it? You looked at the photos, I take it?’
She nodded.
Ben’s cheeks reddened for the first time. ‘Please tell me you’re not jealous of some woman I dated long before you were ever on the scene. We both had other partners before we hooked up, and I thought we were both happy to leave those things in the past.’
‘I was. I mean, I am, but you never told me you’d been married before. I find it odd that you would hide something like that from me.’ She glanced over to Ben’s parents and saw his mum look away.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who said we were married?’
Alice froze. Had there been a photograph of Ben and Mary from their wedding day, or was it because Mary had told her they’d been married?
Ben was now looking closer at her, the lines on his face forming into a suspicious frown. ‘What’s going on here, Alice? There’s something you’re not telling me. Where have you really been?’
There was no point in keeping the truth to herself any more. He deserved to know what Mary and O’Neill had said, and she needed to give him a chance to share his side of the story.
‘We’re going to need a drink.’