It was the wrong thing to say and she knew it as soon as it was out. No one laughed; they had all seen the body of the girl, stripped, tortured and covered in the filthy, slimy mud.

Chapter 5

5

At ten o’clock Peter put a pizza in the oven as it didn’t look as though Jane would be home. While he was eating it she phoned to tell him not to wait up as she had to go over to the morgue. She sounded tired and depressed.

“Things bad, are they, love?”

“Yeah, you could say that. We found another girl tonight. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

He knew she must be exhausted, she couldn’t have slept for more than about thirty-six hours, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly irritated as he put the phone down. He was having a tough time at work himself; things were going from bad to worse and he needed someone to sound off at. He had tendered for a major building project that would have put him back on his feet financially; had gone in as low as possible, but had been pipped at the post.

He sat down to finish his pizza, which he’d overcooked and was hard as a rock, but he ate it anyway. Then he ploughed through his accounts, getting more depressed by the minute.

He was on the edge of bankruptcy and there seemed no way out. His share of the proceeds from the house had virtually been swallowed up by maintenance payments and business debts. He slammed the books shut and opened a bottle of Scotch.

A few minutes later the phone rang again. It was his ex-wife, asking if Peter could have their son to stay for the weekend now that he was settled. The thought cheered him up; Marianne had never been keen to allow Joey to stay overnight. His few Saturdays with the boy had left him feeling low.

“If he could maybe stay next weekend? Would that be convenient?”

“Yeah, sure! I mean, I’ll have to sort it out with Jane, she’s very busy at the moment, but I’m sure it’ll be OK.”

“How’s it going with the new woman in your life, then?”

“Going fine, Marianne.”

“Good. Oh . . . Nearer the time for the baby, early days yet, but later on perhaps Joey could stay longer. It’d help me out, and it’s good for Joey to get to know you.”

“Marianne . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Marianne . . . Look, were you trying to tell me something the other day?”

“When?”

“Come off it! When you told me you were pregnant . . .”

“Oh, that! No . . . why, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he replied shortly, “OK, talk to you soon.” He wanted her off the phone, he wanted to think . . .

“All right, then, bye!”