He never did answer me when I asked if she was his girlfriend. Perhaps he wanted to keep some things private from me. I had to accept that.
I can’t have imagined someone being outside earlier – the car had stopped for her. They say everyone has a doppelganger, but they’re never in the same area. What was she doing, staring at the house – and was it her who peered through the window?
There’s a bleep on my phone telling me I have a notification from my forum. Craig didn’t seem to hear it, so I open the application.
It’s from Anne Marie. She’s online now.
AnneMarie2348: How is Craig settling in?
NorthernLass: I’m not sure. He seems different to how he was inside.
AnneMarie2348: How?
NorthernLass: He was quiet, vulnerable in there. It’s like he’s a different person. Seems taller but his temper’s shorter. He seems frustrated or angry with me for some reason. Does that sound strange? I’m almost afraid of him sometimes, but I suppose I can’t read his behaviour in the same way I could before all this.
AnneMarie2348: No, not at all. Although Ashley was the opposite. She seemed smaller when she got home. It was almost like she didn’t want to be here. It took a few months for her to stop missing her friends inside. Said they were the only ones who understood her. Can you imagine how hurtful that was to hear? But I suppose I shouldn’t be selfish.
NorthernLass: You’re not selfish. It’s as though Craig doesn’t want to be here either. It’s not how I thought it would be.
AnneMarie2348: It’ll take time.
Craig gets up and walks to the window again.
NorthernLass: Better go. He keeps getting up as though he’s waiting for someone.
AnneMarie2348: Take care, Erica.
‘Where is he?’ says Craig, louder than he did before.
‘Where’s who, love?’
He puts his hands on his hips, still facing the gap in the curtains.
‘Jason. He said he’d be round as soon as… he’s a day late.’
‘But how would you arrange that? He’s not psychic.’
‘Psychic’s not a word I’d associate with Jase. We planned it… when I was away.’
‘Over the phone?’
‘No,’ he says. ‘You weren’t the only visitor I had inside.’
11
When he got into work, Luke had expected a round of applause – like Jerry Maguire or something – but his piece was days old and no one gave a shit about Facebook likes until they were well in the thousands.
At times like these, he remembers the words of his arsehole of a PE teacher: must try harder. He needs something more, to dig deeper. Luke’s tried telephoning Erica, but admittedly gave up after four rings. He can’t believe he’s afraid Craig will answer the telephone. Erica isn’t the person he should be chasing for an interview anyway. The person he should be talking to is Craig Wright, but will the man talk to him?
Sarah’s not asked him for a story featuring the killer himself so perhaps he’ll surprise her with it. He’s already written the articles needed for tonight’s edition, and he has several others he needs to complete by midday tomorrow (a man with over three thousand indecent images of children sentenced to eighteen months; a woman arrested for benefit fraud totalling £52,000; a piece on a local artist’s exhibition), but his mind keeps drifting back to Craig. There must be something that everyone has missed.
Luke goes into his old files, clicking on the notes for the article he’d written about Jenna Threlfall. There were certain bits of information that he’d gleaned from a police officer at the time, though he’d had to change the details when the CPS terminated proceedings against Craig. Luke thought they’d find new evidence; he imagined the frustration of the police when they found nothing. The police officer who helped him had retired now. Luke makes a note to track him down – he must be frustrated that the Jenna Threlfall case remains open.
Luke’s article is sparse; there was so much more he wanted to say:
A 20-year-old man from Preston has been arrested on suspicion of murdering a woman who went missing on New Year’s Day. Jenna Threlfall, 18, was found after a lengthy search by police and locals in the early hours of Wednesday morning. She had been raped and strangled.
A post-mortem suggests that death occurred three days before the body was found.
Police are appealing for witnesses. It is believed that several items of clothing were missing from the body.
He goes back into his notes. There were facts about the crime that were under embargo: the body was cleaned with bleach after death; her remaining clothes were dowsed in White Musk perfume. Jenna’s T-shirt and necklace were missing and have never been found.
Lucy’s body wasn’t cleaned. She was strangled, too, but there were traces of DNA on her body that put Craig Wright in the frame. Her body was hidden, but Jenna’s wasn’t – it was almost on display, like the killer was proud of what he’d done and wanted everyone to see it.
Luke leans back in his chair.
‘Get us a coffee, would you, Mikey?’ he says to the work experience lad next to him.
Mikey looks at him, his young face scrunched in a scowl.
‘I haven’t been taught how to do that yet,’ he says with a smirk.
‘What the—’
‘I’ll get us a drink,’ says his colleague, Amanda, sitting opposite him. ‘I’ve been staring at that screen for hours. I could do with a break. Come on, Mikey. I’ll show you how it’s done.’
The lad tuts before standing.
Luke doesn’t know why Mikey bothers turning up. It’s clear he’s not interested in serious journalism. He’s been engrossed in gaming forums since he started last week.
Shaking his head, Luke brings up his article from a few days ago.
Craig Wright, who was found guilty of murdering local teenager Lucy Sharpe in 2000, is to be released after seventeen years behind bars.
Wright was 20 years old when he committed the crime that made a huge impact on the community. Lucy Sharpe was 18 years old at the time of her killing. Wright strangled then raped the teenager before dumping her body in woodland.
The mother of Lucy, Gillian Sharpe, spoke exclusively to the Chronicle.
‘Lucy was passionate about so many things,’ said Gillian. The teenager volunteered at several charities.
Lucy’s parents were both present at Craig Wright’s murder trial. They listened to details of their daughter’s final moments, before the trial was sensationally halted after Wright changed his plea.
‘Did he want the world to hear what he’d done?’ said Gillian Sharpe.
Wright’s assumed return to the town will no doubt cause unease in the community. But Gillian Sharpe refuses to move. ‘Why should I leave?’ she said. ‘My daughter will always be eighteen, but I’m still her mother.’
Luke remembers that Craig hung around with a local lad – they’d been inseparable, from what people had said. He clicks back on to his files on the case and finds him. Jason Bamber.
He types the name and Preston into Google and clicks on the News tab. Several articles appear on the screen.
29 June 2001
Jason Bamber, 22, of Wignall Street, Preston, was sentenced to six months in prison after he was found guilty of collecting three weeks of his grandfather’s pension after his death, amounting to £217.50. The judge said, ‘I’ve taken into consideration that you have no previous convictions and appear to be remorseful.’ Bamber’s grandfather, Fred, who was a popular figure in the area, died 22 February 2001 after a short battle with cancer. Fred Bamber’s close friend Derek said, ‘I can’t believe Jason would do this. He’s always been a bit of a handful, but he’s gone too far this time.’