Karlsson paused for a moment. Terry was still staring in front of her.
‘But if you tell us where she is,’ he continued, ‘things could be very different.’
Still she didn’t speak.
‘Your husband’s gone,’ said Karlsson. ‘We’ll get him soon. In the meantime, you’re going to take the full force of this. I can give you a way out. But it won’t be on offer for very long. If you don’t help us, people will get very angry indeed.’
‘You can’t turn me against him,’ said Terry. ‘We did everything together.’
‘That’s what he’s relying on,’ said Karlsson. ‘He gets away. Or tries to get away. And you’re left here facing the music.’
‘He can rely on me,’ said Terry. ‘He’s always been able to rely on me. I can be strong for him.’
‘What are you doing this for?’ said Karlsson, almost plaintively. ‘It’s all over. There’s no point.’
She just gave a shrug. Karlsson glanced round at Frieda with a look of defeat. He took his watch and slipped it into his jacket pocket, then stood up and walked over to her. ‘What’s in it for her? What’s she got left to lose?’
‘Him, maybe,’ Frieda said softly. ‘Can I talk to her?’
‘Be my guest.’
Frieda walked across and sat down in the chair Karlsson had left. She stared across at Terry and Terry returned her gaze, setting her jaw as if she were challenging her.
‘You saved Matthew’s life,’ said Frieda. ‘It sounds funny to say it and I don’t think you’ll get much credit for it from the mob outside, but it’s true.’
Terry looked wary. ‘You’re just trying to grease up to me. You want to get me to talk.’
‘I’m just telling the truth. When I saw you at the cemetery, I knew that Matthew was there. If it had taken any longer to find him, he would have died.’
‘So?’ said Terry.
‘He didn’t die. That’s something good that’s come out of this, isn’t it? Is that why you went back? Were you going to see if he was still alive?’
Terry looked contemptuous. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’
‘It must have preyed on your mind,’ said Frieda. ‘In a way, it would have been easier if you’d killed him. But those days you were under observation, when you were in here, you must have had this image of a little boy lying in the dark. So you went back. That was done out of a kind of … I’m not sure what the right word is. Care, maybe. And then you saw me and you saw that I saw you. You ran away and you rang Dean. You were caring for him as well. You were looking after him. Did he look after you?’
‘You’re not going to turn me against him.’
‘I’m not trying to.’
‘You fucking liar.’
‘Matthew’s going to be all right,’ said Frieda. ‘I’ve just come from the hospital. I think that may be a relief to you.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘I think you do. But now we need to know about Kathy.’
Terry gave her habitual shrug.
‘And Joanna – what happened to Joanna, Terry? Where is she buried?’
‘Ask Dean.’
‘Very well.’
‘Where’s my tea and fag, then?’
‘I want to ask you one last thing: why did you go home?’
‘I dunno,’ said Terry. ‘Why not?’
Frieda thought for a moment. ‘I think I know.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You went to the cemetery and you saw me and you knew we’d find the boy and you phoned Dean and you knew you’d done what you could for him. Then what? Were you really going to run away? Really? What would that mean? Could you have gone on the run? Hidden for ever? Taken a new identity? If it were me, I think I would have thought about it the same way you did. The idea of it would be too tiring. I’d done what I could. I’d want to go home, even if I could only be there for a minute. I’d just want to go home.’
Terry breathed deeply. She felt in the pocket of her jeans and took out a crumpled old tissue and blew her nose loudly. Then she tossed the tissue on to the floor and stared back at Frieda. ‘You won’t get me to say anything against him,’ she said. ‘I’ve got nothing to say.’
‘I know.’ Frieda stood up, then knelt down and picked up the soggy tissue. ‘You needn’t add littering to your other problems.’
‘Oh, fuck off,’ said Terry.
Frieda and Karlsson left the room. Karlsson sent two female officers in to watch Terry. He was starting to say something when another detective came around the corner. He was panting and could hardly get his words out. ‘Alan Dekker just called. He’s talked to Dean Reeve. He met him.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Karlsson turned to Frieda. ‘You want to come? Hold his hand?’
Frieda thought for a moment. ‘No. I’ve got something to do.’
Karlsson couldn’t stop himself smiling. ‘Is this not interesting enough for you?’
‘There’s something I’ve got to do.’
‘Is this Christmas shopping or is it something I should know about?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Frieda.
Karlsson waited but Frieda didn’t say any more.
‘Fuck it, then.’ Karlsson left.
Frieda sat down, and drummed her fingers on a table. Then she got up and walked out into the operations room. At the end there was a clink of glasses, laughter. It felt like the case was completed and celebrations had begun. She rummaged in her pocket for a notebook and flicked through it. She walked over to a desk, picked up a phone and dialled.
‘Is that Sasha? … It’s Frieda … Yes, I’m so glad I’ve caught you. I need a favour, a really big one. Can we meet? … I mean now. I can come straight over to wherever you are … Great. ’Bye.’
She slammed the receiver down. On the other side of the room, a young detective looked round and wondered what that doctor woman was doing, running across the office.
Chapter Forty-four
Karlsson knocked at the door and it opened almost before his hand dropped back to his side. A small, strong-looking woman stood before him, wearing old jeans and an orange jumper with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Her face, bare of makeup, looked tired and anxious.
‘Carrie Dekker? I’m Detective Chief Inspector Malcolm Karlsson. And this is Detective Constable Yvette Long. I think you and your husband are expecting us.’
‘Alan’s in the kitchen.’ She hesitated. ‘He’s quite upset.’
‘We just need to ask some questions.’
‘Can I stay?’
‘If you like.’
Karlsson followed her into the kitchen.
‘Alan,’ she said softly. ‘They’re here, Alan.’
He was a crumpled, distraught figure. He was still wearing his shabby duffel coat and sat slumped at the kitchen table. When he lifted his face, Karlsson saw that he looked as if he had been crying for hours, days even.
‘This is urgent,’ said Karlsson. ‘You need to tell us what happened.’
‘I told him he shouldn’t go,’ said Carrie. ‘I told him. I said he was putting himself in danger.’
‘I wasn’t in any danger. I told you. We met in a crowded place. It was only for a few minutes.’ He gulped. ‘It was like looking in a mirror. I should have told you. I know I should. A few weeks ago, I had no idea he even existed. I had to see him. I’m sorry.’
He was visibly trembling and there were tears in his eyes again. Carrie sat beside him and took one of his hands between her own. She kissed his knuckles and he leaned his big, heavy head towards her. ‘It’s all right, my darling,’ she said.
Karlsson saw how she protected him, motherly and tender. ‘What time did he call you?’
‘What time was it, Carrie? About nine, maybe a bit before. I heard they found the little boy.’
‘It was partly down to you.’
‘I’m just glad I could do something.’
‘When he called you, what did he say?’
‘He said we had to meet. That he didn’t have long and it was our only chance. He told me he wanted to give me something.’