Chapters (62)
- Title
- Copyright
- Contents
- About the Author
- About the Book
- Dedication
- Your Worst Nightmare
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- The Answer to All Your Prayers
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- Somebody Else’s Child
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- Sunlight on Water
- July
- September
- Acknowledgements
They reach the main entrance and go outside, passing Mr Prentice with his keys. Exactly like you did seven days ago, they keep saying, but it’s not at all the same. That day the car park was almost empty; today there are TV cameramen, people with microphones, photographers, police. Stewie sees his mum and dad, and Evan’s dad, and the headmaster Mr Mullis, and he feels self-conscious and embarrassed, and knows his face is red.
They walk down the road to the newsagent’s, and from somewhere they’ve conjured a man who looks uncannily like the man who was buying milk, with a mocked-up tattoo just as Stewie described it. Someone hands Nick a can of Fanta and Stewie’s given a packet of crisps he really doesn’t feel like eating. For Evan’s sake, he eats them regardless.
It isn’t until they reach the bus shelter that Stewie discovers the biggest discrepancy in the reconstruction is his own state of mind. When Stewie said goodbye to Evan a week ago, his mood was light, his conscience untroubled, but as he leaves Nick to wait alone for whatever comes next, he feels like the worst kind of traitor. Remembering his instructions, he follows the trail of his own walk home, leaden-hearted with the weight of his remorse.
SIX
SIX
24 October
‘What’s the news, Brad?’ asks Naylor. The morning after the Crimewatch broadcast, Hagen looks weary, with a pallor induced by too much coffee and junk food and no fresh air. ‘Isn’t there a bed somewhere calling your name?’
‘It’s calling louder than you can possibly imagine,’ says Hagen, ‘but there’s too much to do here. Just pour coffee into me and I’ll keep going like the Duracell bunny.’
‘Anything of interest?’
‘Rose is correlating the data from the phone calls, so she can give you a detailed run-down, but by and large, I’d say a very good response. The big question is, will any of it produce anything useful?’
‘We’re back in the headlines, anyway,’ says Naylor, dropping copies of the Sun and the Daily Mail on the desk. ‘That never hurts, does it?’
Hagen picks up the Mail, where a photo of a shell-shocked Matt and a tearful Claire covers a third of the front page.
‘Hey, Rachel!’ Dallabrida’s breezing into the office, fresh and cheerful, though Naylor knows he was manning phones last night and won’t have been in bed before the small hours. ‘Message from the front desk. There’s a visitor wants to talk about the Ferrers case, and I think you’ll want to see him. Give me a minute to get my caffeine fix, and I’ll come and keep you company.’