Little Boy Blue - страница 31

Spitz looked at his client, hoping for more defiance, but none was forthcoming. Helen took over, adopting a more emollient tone.

‘I know you’re in a fix here, Paul. You’re thinking of Sally, of the twins, of what this will do to them. But lying won’t help. We have firm evidence you knew Jake and were active on the S &M scene. Your phone places you near the scene of the crime, yours is the only DNA on the body and I have no doubt that one of those present at the Torture Rooms will positively ID you as having been there that night. So let’s start again, shall we?’

Helen looked Jackson straight in the eye.

‘Tell me what really happened on Tuesday night.’

She didn’t see her coming until it was too late.

Sally Jackson had been in the midst of a particularly difficult conversation when the call came. Paul’s PA had seized the nettle, ringing Sally to tell her that her husband had been arrested and taken to Southampton Central. She’d been irritated when the phone rang – she worked at a local Family Centre and was busy explaining to an irate dad why his meetings with his estranged children had to be supervised. These discussions required finesse and patience, not interruptions, so she was tempted not to answer. But when the phone kept ringing, her curiosity was aroused.

She didn’t know what to say at first, other than to check that it wasn’t a joke and that she was sure. But the tone of Sandra Allen’s voice – tight, sombre, with a hint of embarrassment – convinced Sally that she was. What do you do in these situations? Sally had extricated herself from her work, claiming a migraine, and hurried to her car. But once inside she just sat there, trying to process what was happening. Why hadn’t Paul contacted her? Terrified, she’d considered calling a lawyer friend, then, discarding that option, decided to go to her sister’s. In the end, she’d done neither, driving home instead. It was like she was on auto-pilot, heading to the place she felt safest.

‘Mrs Jackson?’

She had just stepped out of the car when the woman approached. She was curious to look at – beautiful from one angle, but scarred on the other – and the situation was made stranger still by the look of concern on her face. How did she know so soon? Who was she?

‘I’m Emilia Garanita from the Evening News. I understand you’ve had a terrible shock.’

She was so blind-sided by the woman’s sudden approach – had she been lying in wait for her? – that initially Sally was struck dumb.

‘There’s no way you can be alone at a time like this, so why don’t I sit with you until someone else comes?’

Sally was surprised to see that the woman had taken her arm and was now guiding her towards her own front door.

‘Your hands are shaking, poor thing. Give me your keys and I’ll do the honours. Then we can have a nice cup of tea.’

She stood there smiling, her hand outstretched for the keys. She seemed so confident of what she was doing that Sally now found herself rummaging for her keys. As she pulled them out, however, she spotted her key ring. On it was a small picture of her, Paul and the twins, taken about six months ago, at the top of Scafell Pike. They were all smiling – tired but exhilarated by their triumph in reaching the summit.

‘I’m sorry, who did you say you were again?’ she said, keeping the keys gripped tight in her hand.

‘I’m from the Southampton Evening News,’ the woman replied, her smile tightening a touch. ‘I know you must be wondering what to do for the best and I’d like to help. Within the hour, you’re going to have reporters, TV journalists and God knows who else camped on your doorstep. I can deal with them. Let me do that for you,’ she said, casting an eye across the street as a van pulled up near by, ‘or, believe you me, it’s going to be a free-for-all. And nobody – least of all you – wants that.’

‘I don’t even know you.’

‘Here’s my ID,’ she replied, thrusting a laminated press card into Sally’s hand. ‘You can call the office if you like. It’s now or never, Sally.’

Sally now spotted a reporter she recognized from the local news heading up the road towards her.