‘Yes. I’m sure you are, Bella.’

But Anna still had questions storming her mind. The important ones being: how and why had her father killed Jonie?

Chapter Ninety-Two

1989

A roadside in Mapledon

Wednesday 19th July – the day of

She was dead. There was no doubt – her pretty blue eyes were glazed, staring blindly up towards the mottled sky. A huge lump stuck out on her forehead, causing her petite face to look too big for her body. Deformed – fake, almost – like a broken doll. Panic set in, his breathing becoming fast, shallow – no oxygen was reaching his lungs.

Think, think.

There was no time for thought, only action. Someone would walk by, catch him if he weren’t careful. He reached his trembling hands out, pushing them beneath her body. Her skin was cool to the touch.

Stupid, stupid man.

He frantically cast his eyes all around him. He couldn’t see anyone. Would he get away with this? He lifted her – she was so light. Tears ran down his face; snot gathered on his top lip, slipping into his mouth.

What was he going to do now? Should he go to the village – own up? Say how it was an accident: she’d run out in front of his car; he didn’t see her until it was too late. Tina and Mark would be distraught, but they couldn’t blame him. The police couldn’t blame him. Could they?

Would a post-mortem indicate otherwise?

More panic. His heart was galloping, his head swimming. He couldn’t pass out now.

Come on, Eric. Sort yourself out.

What would Muriel say?

He laid Jonie Hayes’ lifeless body inside the boot of his car.

Breathless, leaning against the driver’s door, Eric took another good look around him. He felt certain no one had witnessed him doing it. Now all he had to do was dispose of the body.

He retched, doubling over, pain searing through his guts.

‘Jesus Christ, forgive me.’

Chapter Ninety-Three

1989

Fisher residence

Wednesday 19th July – the day of, 10.15 p.m.

‘It isn’t how it should’ve been, granted. But it’s happened now. You have to stay calm, Eric.’

‘But what I’ve done …’

‘Is done, Eric! It’s okay.’

‘How can you say that? How is this okay, Muriel? Are you bloody insane?’

‘No. But you’re acting like it. How can you turn on me? I’m protecting you. Now listen,’ Muriel said. She held his hand, flipping it over and placing something on his palm. ‘Take this.’

He shook his head, bemused.

‘Seriously, Eric? Right – you have to go to Billy Cawley’s place and get inside. Don’t break in, or not obviously anyway. Wear gloves too – can’t have your fingerprints anywhere.’ Muriel’s voice was harsh. ‘Are you listening properly, Eric?’

‘Yes, yes. Get inside, don’t be seen, don’t leave prints. But do leave this.’

He pointed at the necklace. ‘But this is Bella’s necklace, Muriel. I don’t understand.’

‘It’s identical to Jonie’s.’

‘Why don’t I just take Jonie’s then.’