Roses Are Red - Miranda Rijks Page 0,72

to Patrick. I grab the phone.

‘Hello?’

There is silence.

‘Hello,’ I repeat. Still no one answers. I wait for a few seconds, listening in case someone comes onto the line, and then I’m straining to hear if I can make out breathing. But no. There is silence. I hang up. I dial 1471 to double-check who has made the call, still worried it might be Patrick. The number comes up as withheld. I switch on my mobile and send Patrick a text message just in case he’s still awake.

Just woken by a silent call. Wanted to check you’re ok. x

He sends me an immediate text back. Yes, fine. Still working. Go back to sleep.

I miss the kisses he normally places after his initial. I place the mobile on my bedside table, leaving it on this time, and try to fall back to sleep.

And then it happens all over again. I jerk awake and grab the phone. ‘Who’s there?’

Again, there is silence. It’s 3 a.m., and this isn’t funny. I’m annoyed, so I put on my navy fleece dressing gown and go downstairs to make myself a cup of chamomile tea. As I’m waiting for the water to cool down, I think of Ajay. Would he do something as petty as call me in the middle of the night to scare me? I’m nervous now, so when I go upstairs, I put the house alarm on. I write little notes and shove them under the kids’ doors, telling them not to come downstairs without switching the alarm off.

The chamomile tea does nothing, and sleep evades me for the rest of the night. When I turn over onto my side, all I hear is my heartbeat pumping faster and faster. My mind is a cauldron of concerns and worries. The children, the business, Ajay and even Patrick. I think of what Patrick’s police friend said, that they would be reinterviewing Ajay. Why hasn’t DI Cornish or DC White contacted me to tell me what’s going on? I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.

On the dot of 9 a.m., I call DC White.

‘I’ve heard on the grapevine that you have some new evidence. Can you tell me more?’

There is silence. ‘Are you still there?’ I ask eventually.

‘I assume you have spoken to Mr Arya?’

‘No.’ And then I realise I should have said yes, as now he might want to know how I came by the information. I quickly change my mind. ‘Um, yes. Look it’s very awkward for me having to work with him. I need to know if I’m safe.’

‘It is true that new evidence has come to light.’

‘Please, you’ve got to tell me!’

‘Keep this to yourself, Mrs Palmer.’ I don’t correct him for using my previous name. ‘A neighbour has come forwards to say that they saw a red saloon car leaving your driveway on the night of your husband’s death.’

‘Ajay’s car?’ My heart is pounding now.

‘We are investigating that possibility.’

‘But why has it taken months for them to come forwards?’

‘The car was seen by your neighbour’s Australian relative. He left the country before Mr Palmer’s death made the headlines. We understand that the neighbor was chatting about the murder with his relative during a long-distance telephone conversation. It was only then that the relative remembered what he had seen.’’

‘Really?’ I find this so hard to believe, but then again, why would a stranger lie about something like this? ‘And you think it’s Ajay’s car?’ I ask in a small voice.

‘We are investigating. Please be assured that should we make an arrest, you will be the first to know.’

‘But have you interviewed him? Is he on bail?’

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you any more at this stage. I have to go now.’

I grit my teeth in frustration as DC White ends the call.

22

Over the next few days, I wait for another call from DC White or DI Cornish, but it doesn’t come. The more I think about Ajay’s involvement in Adam’s death, the more it makes sense… yet the stranger it seems. Ajay is an intelligent man. Surely he wouldn’t have driven his distinctive car to our house; any of us could have seen it. Yet Ajay doesn’t reappear at work.

With everything that has been going on, insomnia combined with the fact that I’m having to work all hours in order to cover for Ajay’s continued absence, I totally forget what day it is. Patrick wakes me by getting out of bed first. I glance at my alarm clock with