Roses Are Red - Miranda Rijks Page 0,87

was only Adam’s Bentley that was considered inappropriate and too expensive to be a company car. My car has a tracker, and of course Ajay has online access to the tracking company. ‘He can easily find out where I’ve parked it.’ I shiver again.

‘That’s what I feared.’ Patrick shakes his head in disbelief. ‘So he knows it’s parked near the station. He knows that I’m safely ensconced here at home with the kids, so he has all night to tamper with the brakes.’

‘I can’t believe he would do something like that!’ I say, but there is no longer any conviction in my voice. ‘But why?’

‘Darling, I really think that Ajay wants you out of the way. I think he wants you to die.’

‘No!’ I bury my face in my hands. I do not want to face up to this hypothesis, but the more Patrick moots it, the more probable it seems. If Ajay wants the business, then the easiest way to achieve it is by killing me off. ‘What do the police say?’ I ask in a whisper.

‘Obviously, I’ve shared my suspicions. They took a statement, and I told them about how Ajay is forcing you to sell your share of the business; about how he’s been stalking you. The silent calls and everything that’s been happening. The policeman said he’d be liaising with DI Cornish. They’ll need to run some tests on the car. I’m so sorry, Lydia,’ he says, his head tilted to one side.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ I croak. ‘Your life is in danger and it’s all because of me. What the hell are we going to do?’

27

DI Cornish and DC White come to see me the next morning. Unannounced. Patrick has taken the kids to school, in his car of course, and then he had to go to some meeting or other, so I’m alone in the house, feeling just marginally better.

‘Sorry, I’ve got flu,’ I say, opening the door to let them in.

‘We won’t get too close, then.’ DI Cornish laughs, but his eyes don’t crease and his lips barely rise at the corners. ‘Is Mr Grant here?’

‘No, he’s at work.’

They follow me into the kitchen, where I make them two cups of tea and ferret out a pack of ginger biscuits from the larder. We all sit down at the kitchen table.

‘Your husband has suggested that the brakes might have been tampered with on your car.’ He emphasises the word husband, drawing out the second syllable. I can guess what he’s thinking. Married the next one a bit quickly.

‘Yes. The car is regularly serviced, and what happened makes no sense.’

‘Unless, of course, Mr Grant simply lost control on the bend. It wouldn’t be the first accident to happen there and no doubt won’t be the last.’

‘But he–’

‘The advantage of a fancy car such as yours is its onboard computer. We’ll know exactly what speed Mr Grant took that corner at as soon as the garage has downloaded all the information. It should also show whether the brakes were indeed tampered with. Mr Grant explained his concerns, but I would be grateful if you could talk me through once again what has led you to file reports of harassment by Mr Arya?’

I shift uncomfortably on the sofa. It feels as if my torso is coated in perspiration, even though it’s quite cool in here. I wonder if the fever has come back. I tell them about the clattering noises outside the other night and how I saw Ajay’s car driving off, and about the silent calls and how Ajay banged on my door and is trying to get me to sell my share of the business to him. They ask to see his offer letter. Reluctantly, I give it to them.

‘You and Mr Grant seem very sure that Mr Arya is behind all of this, but is there anyone else who could hold a grudge against you, or indeed against your deceased husband?’

‘No.’ I sigh. It seems as if we’re about to go over old ground, and it’s frustrating me. ‘I’m scared. For me and my children. What are you going to do to protect us?’

DC White raises his eyebrows and glances away. DC Cornish stares at me.

‘We have allocated as many resources as possible to investigate both Mr Palmer’s death and the accusations you have levied against Mr Arya. Perhaps there is some further information that you are withholding from us?’

‘No, there isn’t!’ I say indignantly.

‘Just out of interest, when did you and Mr Grant