‘Sorry, but this is all a bit of a shock,’ I said. ‘Mitch, Mr Dawson, and I were to be married. We’d started up our relationship again and I’d gone round that evening to surprise him. You saw the picnic hamper at the scene.’

‘Was he expecting you?’

Of course not. It was to be a surprise. Mitch was meant to open the door, fling his arms around me and haul me inside. The food hamper would have been left unopened until we’d made love. It had been staged to perfection.

I could see DCI Kent’s dilemma. He didn’t give much away though, with his curt bland mode of questioning. If Amber was telling the truth and she and Mitch were to be married, then I might have been fuelled by rage and jealousy, enough to bludgeon my ex-boyfriend with a baseball bat. I was found at the scene of the crime, cradling his head, apparently after the event, rather than calling the police. Perhaps Kent thought I’d intended to flee the scene once my rage had been spent and reality kicked in.

‘You say Mr Moreton was already at the scene when you arrived. He denies this and says he found you huddled over the body when he got there.’ Both pairs of eyes had settled on my face, watching intently for my reaction. ‘He’s adamant that this was the case. He has now corroborated Miss Grey’s story that Mitch and you were finished long ago. He says Mr Dawson would never have had you back after you’d gone off with his best friend. We need to ask, Miss Carrington, if you were jealous enough to have wanted harm to come to Mr Dawson?’

At this point, survival instincts kicked in. I’d seen too many TV cop movies not to know the implications. I stood, my legs weak and my head reeling.

‘I’d rather not answer any more questions. I don’t feel too well.’ Nausea churned up my insides. The true horror of what was being suggested was starting to register.

As Kent and his colleague turned to go, the DCI threw a parting shot.

‘Miss Carrington, I know that you’re still in deep shock but we’ll need to speak to you again. I think you’d be well advised to get yourself a lawyer.’

81

Rebecca

At first, random sightings of Arthur outside my flat hadn’t greatly bothered me. I was so excited to be back with Mitch that I’d dismissed Arthur’s late-night visits as nothing more than the actions of a lover spurned, a last-ditch attempt to deal with rejection.