Page 43 of The Dead Ex
‘Why haven’t you mentioned this before?’
‘I was embarrassed.’
It’s true.
‘Your ex-husband married his PA very soon after you broke up, I believe.’
I nod curtly, not trusting myself to say anything.
‘And youthink that’s what he’s doing now? Taking a business trip, or even seeing someone else?’
‘Well, it’s possible, isn’t it?’
He shrugs. ‘Mrs Goudman says she has no idea where he is.’
I laugh. ‘Nor did I!’
I almost tell him my suspicions that Tanya might know where David is. Then again, he might think I’m trying to shift the blame.
‘Do you have any proof of what you’ve just told me?’ he asks.
I think of my surety hidden in the Bills file. Isn’t that why I’m here? To hand it over? But the detective’s cool attitude makes me wonder if he will believe me. He might even think I’ve forged it to get David into trouble. It seems I can’t win.
‘Not exactly.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I’m not a detective like you. Just a woman who is trying to make the best of things after her whole bloodylife has been turned upside down.’
I’m not the swearing type. I don’t mean to be angry orhit my fists on the desk like this. Yet I want to scream and shout to make this man understand that I honestly don’t know why my ex-husband has disappeared. But most importantly, I need to convinceme.
He pushes a box of tissues in my direction. They’re man-size. It reminds me of the one occasion when Ifound David crying in front of a TV drama about a boy whose father beat him up for some minor misdemeanour. It was the only time I ever saw him shed tears. When I asked if he was all right, my husband flicked channels and said he didn’t want to talk about it.
The anger is subsiding now. I want to go home. To snuggle up on the sofa with a soft blanket. To dab lavender on my temples. Besides, I’vegot another client coming over soon. Unless she’s cancelled too.
Detective Inspector Vine is tapping his index finger on his left wrist as if thinking to himself. Then he frowns. I find myself wondering if he’s ever cried as an adult. I suspect not.
‘And you honestly still can’t explain the photograph which showed you arguing with your husband two months before he disappeared?’
He’s got tobelieve me! ‘No. I can’t. Maybe it was doctored. They can do that sort of thing.’
‘They?’
‘Experts. Someone who has it in for me.’
‘And who might that be?’
So hecan’tknow about my background. Unless he is playing double bluff and waiting for me to tell him.
‘You’re the detective,’ I say.
He makes ayou’ve got me theregesture. ‘You’re obviously upset. Would you like someone to drive youhome?’
His voice is gentler. I don’t trust it. I knew where I was with the blunter approach.
‘Can it be an unmarked car? No uniform? I don’t want the neighbours to see.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
