Greenwich Park by Katherine Faulkner (primary phonics .TXT) 📕

him a motive. And if we could make it look like Rachel had been blackmailing him over his affair that would be simple enough.

Actually, it was quite fun, waiting in the shadows until he and Lisa emerged from their seedy little hotel and snapping them in the car park. I sent the emails, too, of course, from an email account in Rachel’s name. And I knew Rachel wouldn’t be able to resist wearing that slutty red designer dress I left in her room. That was all she needed to do, to scare the life out of Rory. Convince him she was the one behind the photos, the emails, the threats that she would tell me the truth about Lisa. I only wished I could have seen his face a bit better when he opened the envelope.

I have to admit, that was a masterstroke of mine. Sending them in the envelope Rachel had left on my desk at the studio. A ready-made envelope, with her fingerprints all over it. I’d handled it carefully, using a pair of plastic gloves from the darkroom. Meanwhile, I made sure my electronic traces showed up plenty of evidence that I, the wronged, innocent wife, suspected Rory was having an affair – moronic Google searches, browsing for private detectives and tracker devices.

The last email was the final piece, the demand that he hand over a load of cash, at the bonfire party. Of course, he’d gone and got the cash. Got it ready for her. Taken it to the party, after telling me some stupid lie about why he had his gym bag with him. That would have been a laugh, seeing her face, when he presented her with the fifty grand – fifty grand she’d never asked for. But of course, she never got that far.

I decide on the long black dress with the deep neckline. I twist off my wedding and engagement rings, toss them in a silver dish on my dressing table. I leave my neck bare, and select the earrings Rory bought me for our first anniversary. ‘It’s supposed to be paper,’ he’d murmured into my ear, ‘but I thought you’d prefer diamonds.’

When Rory was arrested, I thought it would all be all right, that the plan had worked. There had been moments when I’d wondered. They had been so slow to unravel it all – Daniel had to travel to a phone box out of town, give them an anonymous tip-off, a bit of a helping hand. But once they searched the office, it was all there for them. The pictures, the withdrawals, the emails on his computer. And even if they weren’t convinced by that, I knew that after they’d spoken to Rory, they’d know he was hiding something. I knew they’d think he was lying, I knew they’d think he was guilty. Because of course, that was the real beauty of it. He was lying. He was guilty.

Admittedly, not of the murder itself. I couldn’t leave that to Daniel. He’d have never had the stomach for it. I told him to sort the concrete, keep Rory and Helen out of the way, and let me get on with it.

In the end, that part was easy enough. After Rachel had finished talking to Charlie, he went into the garden to smoke and mope after Katie, and I saw my chance. I told her we’d sorted things out for her, that we were going to go to the police, tell the truth about what happened to her. I said I just needed a quick chat first, suggested we go to the cellar, where there would be no one around. I wasn’t sure she’d go for it. I made sure the coast was clear, in case I needed to shove her in. But she agreed, trotted happily down the steps, good as a little lamb. It was only when I shut the door that she looked like she’d realised, her red lips parting as the penny dropped. But by then my hand was around her mouth, and the brick in my other hand. The force of the blow had slammed her against the rafter, her head cracking like a melon. And then she was at the bottom of the stairs. The angle of her neck all wrong. Her eyes wide open, as if she couldn’t believe she was dead. And a bright pool of crimson, spreading out behind her, like a red riding cape.

Just as we planned, Daniel brought Rory down a few minutes later, telling him he wanted to show him how the work was coming on. The idea was that Daniel would pretend to be shocked and threaten to turn me in, and Rory would stop him to protect me. I don’t think much pretending was necessary when he saw her.

I started gabbling about how there had been an accident, that she had attacked me, that I hadn’t meant to push her back so hard, that she’d fallen. Daniel’s big moment then. I had confidence he’d be convincing, that Rory would think he really planned to go to the police. I knew from experience Daniel had a good line in pretending to want to do the right thing. All that nonsense back in Cambridge, saying he wanted to mess everything up, just because some silly girl we didn’t know had gatecrashed a party, drunk her body weight in vodka and then changed her mind about having sex.

It was a gamble, but it paid off. As soon as Daniel started threatening me with the police, and I started shaking and crying and all that nonsense, I knew Rory would want to protect me, that he would think of the idea himself. The cement was already doing its bit, suggesting itself as the perfect solution. Parts of it were starting to subsume her – her arms were being pulled down into it.

‘All right, Daniel,’ he said. ‘Let’s just calm down, shall we? Let’s just think about this.’ And of course, we both