Izzy got out of bed at seven o’clock on Saturday morning. She would normally sleep in for at least another thirty minutes, but she’d already been awake for hours, her mind cycling through all the possible scenarios that might lie in front of her. She had texted Melissa the night before, advising that she would be a little late getting to the bookshop today, but even in her own head she had no idea what ‘a little late’ might mean. Kenneth had told his wife (was she his wife? And who was the guy in the kitchen?) that he would get to Raynor’s ‘first thing’, but not everyone had the same definition of ‘first thing’. To be on the safe side, Izzy had decided that she would get to the hardware store before it opened at 9.00.
Additional uncertainty surrounded how long the encounter would last. Worst case, Kenneth would rebuff Izzy’s advances, make his excuses and race back home, bracket in hand, in which eventuality Izzy would probably get into work not long after Melissa. At the other extreme, Izzy pictured herself sitting in front of a pleasantly surprised Detective Sergeant Frendy, setting down her witness statement as to how she painstakingly bound Kenneth Plumley up in his own web of lies and convinced him to confess, thereby freeing the town and its surrounding region of a vicious predator. If that was how it went, showing up at the bookshop before the mid-morning coffee break would be unlikely, but surely Abel would be willing to forgive this tardiness of the heroic saviour in his employ.110
Izzy managed to force down a cup of tea and most of a bowl of Rice Krispies. When she was washed and dressed, she said goodbye to Andy, who had the weekend off and was intending to spend the majority of it sleeping. Then she got in the car and drove to town, parking in her usual spot on the road opposite the bookshop, only a short walk from Raynor’s.
That was when the nerves really kicked in, as all the scenarios lying between her two imagined extremes reasserted themselves. The scenarios that involved Kenneth becoming abusive or threatening or violent, or even simply causing a scene that would leave her humiliated and in tears. Was it really worth the risk?
And then she thought about Rosie Agutter and Heather Cunliffe and decided that yes, it was very much worth a little emotional turmoil.
She got out of the car, strolled up to Raynor’s Hardware, just in time to see the owner opening up shop. Izzy stayed on the other side of the road, watching and waiting. Foot traffic grew quickly – all the early birds anxious to get their shopping done before it became too busy. She had to keep shifting position to get out of the way and maintain her view, and she started to worry that she would fail to catch sight of Kenneth.
But then there he was, ambling along like a person who didn’t kidnap young girls, going straight into Raynor’s like your average DIY guy.
Izzy crossed the street and took up position outside the barber’s next door. Assuming that Kenneth would retrace his steps, he couldn’t fail to come within inches of her. She took deep calming breaths, then shook her arms and flexed her fingers as though she was about to face up to a Wild West gunslinger.
‘Izzy!’
She turned, saw a familiar face.
‘It’s me! Maya. From school.’111
No, not now. Please not now.
‘Maya! Yes. Hi. How are you?’
‘Good. What about you? What are you doing with yourself?’
A glance towards the hardware shop. No sign yet.
‘I work in the bookshop. Stern Words.’
‘Really? I must call in there sometime. I don’t get back here much now. It’s a big world out there.’
Maya had gone to Oxford for her degree. Ended up in politics, which wasn’t surprising since she had bored everyone at school to tears with her forthright political views. And now it sounded like she was already about to launch into a tale of how important she was to civilisation.
‘Certainly is. We should definitely catch up.’
‘Well, what are you doing right now?’
Another look towards the shop. She could see a figure at the counter.
He’s paying. He’ll be out here any second.
‘Er, actually, I’m late for something.’
‘Late? It looked like you were just standing here.’
The door is opening. He’s coming out.
‘Yeah, I was. That’s why I’m late. See you, Maya. Gotta go.’
That’s him. Coming straight towards me.
‘Izzy?’
‘Another time, promise.’
And then she was hurrying away from Maya, practically running, not caring how rude she must have seemed to her schoolmate as she concentrated on making a beeline for Kenneth Plumley, and then she was right on him, forcing him to make evasive manoeuvres that failed when she mirrored his movement and ploughed straight into him.
‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘Sorry. I’m so sorry.’
Kenneth had dropped the brown paper bag he was holding, and 112as he bent to retrieve it, it suddenly occurred to Izzy that Maya might have recognised him from her schooldays and be tempted to turn this into some kind of shitty reunion. But when she glanced behind her, she saw that Maya had already marched away.
‘Are you all right?’ Izzy asked.
‘No damage done,’ Kenneth said. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m fine. I— Mr Plumley?’
He stared at her for a second, and then his eyes widened. ‘Izzy? It’s Izzy, isn’t it?’
‘That’s me. Still just as clumsy as ever, apparently. I haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?’
‘I’m good.’ He held up the bag. ‘Just out on a little errand. My wife is sending me up a ladder to fix the gutters. To be honest, I think she’s hoping I’ll break my neck.’
Izzy laughed too hard. ‘Wife? You’re married now?’
Kenneth’s face darkened slightly, and she got the feeling he was already afraid he’d said too much.
‘Yeah. I’m a real grown-up now. What about you?’
‘I have a partner, but we’re not thinking of wedding bells just yet. Hey, do you fancy a quick coffee? It would be great to catch up.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t know. I should really get back and make a start on this job.’
But Izzy was already hooking her arm through his, playing all warm and friendly even though it made her sick to her stomach to get so close to a man who possibly liked nothing more than hurting young women like her.
‘Come on. Ten minutes or so won’t hurt. I’m dying to hear what’s been going on at the school since I left.’
Kenneth looked around, as if for someone to rescue him, but there was no way she was letting go of him now, not after all the work she’d put into setting this up.113
‘All right,’ he said. ‘A quick coffee.’
‘Great. Do you know Claudette’s? They do amazing lemon drizzle cake there.’
‘Sounds good. Lead the way.’
On the way there, she limited the conversation to trivialities, mostly about herself. She told him what she had done since leaving school, which was difficult to make sound remotely interesting, and also about the bookshop she worked in, which was even more difficult to dress up as glamorous. She was saving the interrogation of her suspect until she could stare him in the eye.
At such an early hour, Claudette’s was quiet, with only one other couple present. For no other reason than she felt comfortable there, Izzy led the way to the table she had shared with Josh Frendy. As she took off her coat, a figure drifted across.
‘Hello again,’ said the waitress. ‘Fallen under the spell of our lemon drizzle, have you?’
It was the same waitress as last time, and Izzy suddenly felt that coming here again might have been a mistake.
‘Er, yes. Could I have it again, please? And a large cappuccino.’
Large, because that would take longer to drink.
‘Certainly.’ She turned to Kenneth. ‘And for yourself?’
‘Just a normal coffee. Small.’
‘Anything to eat?’ Before he could answer, the waitress turned to Izzy. ‘He’s not a policeman as well, is he? For some reason they always seem to go for the gateau.’
Shit, Izzy thought.
‘Policeman?’ Kenneth said.
‘It’s a joke. I’ll tell you later.’
She felt his discomfort. This wasn’t a great start.
‘No cake for me, thank you.’
Izzy glared at the waitress in a way that told her that she should 114go away now, and the waitress dutifully obeyed. Looking at Kenneth again, she wondered how long to leave it before getting to the heart of the matter, the reason for all this. Had she buttered him up enough yet?
‘So …’ she said. ‘You’re married now. When did all that happen?’
‘About three years ago.’
She waited for him to say more, but he seemed reluctant. It was almost as if he was ashamed of his marital status.
‘Well, belated congratulations. What’s her name?’
‘Polina.’
‘Pauline?’
‘Polina. She’s … she’s Russian.’
‘Yeah? How’d you meet?’
‘It was … online. She flew all the way here to be with me,’ he said with pride.
Ah, Izzy thought. An internet bride. She knew she shouldn’t judge, but she judged anyway. The thought she couldn’t stop passing through her head was that, for many people, seeking soulmates online was a perfectly reasonable approach, but that Kenneth, serial abductor that he probably was, undoubtedly had difficulty in interacting with women, and so his only solution for entering into a relationship of an acceptable kind was to have one shipped in from some remote corner of the world.
They chatted for another couple of minutes about old times. The coffee and cake arrived. They chatted some more. When Kenneth checked his watch, she took that as her cue.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘I just remembered. The girl I work with in the bookshop said there’d been something in the news about one of the girls at Hemingway going missing.’ She had planned from the start to pretend that she hadn’t seen the news report. She didn’t want Kenneth making any connections between that and their ‘chance’ encounter this morning.115
Kenneth shifted in his seat. ‘Yeah. Rosie Agutter. She’s a sixth-former.’
Goosebumps rose on Izzy’s arms. There was something wrong with what Kenneth had just said.
‘Do you know her?’
‘Not well. I’ve seen her around.’ He hesitated. ‘Did you see me on the news?’
‘You? No. You were on television?’
‘Yeah. I thought I saw Rosie getting into a car outside the school on the day she went missing. I talked to the police about it, and then the television reporters.’
‘Oh my God, you were the last one to see her?’
‘Well, that’s what I thought. Now I’m not so sure. It might have been someone else I saw.’
Damn. He was pulling back, like Frendy said he did with him. He wasn’t being definite enough for her to detect the lies. She needed to pin him down.
‘But what if it was her? Melissa at the shop said something about a foreign guy driving the car.’
Kenneth squirmed a little. ‘That was probably my fault. I thought he looked Middle Eastern, but it was hard to tell. It was so dark, and they were so far away.’
Shit. This was going nowhere. She thought about posing more direct questions so she could get a better read on the situation, like Did you take Rosie? Or, Is Rosie still alive? But she couldn’t think of any that wouldn’t let him know she was on to him.
‘I hope nothing bad has happened to her,’ she said.
‘Me too. She’s a lovely girl.’
The goosebumps again. Why? What did he say?
And then she realised.
It was his use of the present tense. She is a sixth-former. She is 116a lovely girl. He wasn’t feeling what he said. He wanted to use a different tense.
The past tense.
Meaning Rosie was dead.
Izzy struggled to prevent her face betraying her shock, to stop the grief overwhelming her. She wanted to say something, to blurt it all out. She wanted to call him a liar, a murderer, a monster.
Stay calm, she told herself. Keep control.
‘I remember reading about another local girl who went missing,’ she said. ‘Must have been about a month ago.’
Kenneth drained his coffee cup. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yes. I think her name was Heather … Cunliffe or something like that. Have you heard of her?’
Kenneth shook his head and said, ‘Can’t say I have,’ and Izzy knew instantly that it was a lie, that he knew exactly who she was and what had happened to her.
Kenneth checked his watch again. Said, ‘Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Izzy, but I should really go now. Polina will be thinking I’ve had an accident. I need to stop her claiming on the insurance.’
He laughed, and Izzy forced out a laugh too. ‘Don’t forget your bracket,’ she said.
Kenneth picked up his brown paper bag from the chair, then looked at her curiously.
‘How d’you know it’s a bracket?’ he asked.
‘Oh … well, you said you were fixing the gutters, and that’s definitely not a section of guttering.’ She laughed again, but Kenneth didn’t find it so funny.
‘Take care of yourself, Izzy,’ he said.
He walked away, and Izzy shuddered.
Not only because she had just had coffee with a serial murderer.
But also because his parting words to her had sounded more like a threat.