The Whole Truth

But Baxter hasn’t finished. ‘The only reason Conway bagged it up in the first place was because he remembered there were bits of broken glass on the front step when he arrived. Exactly the same broken glass. There can’t be many ways that got there, can there? Not in that part of town. So barring a clumsy supermarket driver –’

Ev gives him a dry look. ‘Oh yeah, fat chance. Trust me, Marina Fisher’s Ocado list does not include prosecco. I doubt she’d even allow it in the house.’

Baxter raises an eyebrow. ‘My thoughts exactly. So I did a bit of digging of my own.’

He leans forward and reaches for his keyboard. ‘And as it turns out, a woman called Pat Hart rang 101 at just after nine the night of the dinner. She was on her way to meet a friend at the Playhouse bar.’

He turns up the volume and presses play.

Caller: Hello? I’m ringing because there’s some sort of incident going on at St Luke Street.

Call handler: What sort of incident, madam?

Caller: There’s a man and a blonde woman arguing in the street. I just went by in a cab and they were really going at it. It looked to me like she’d had quite a lot to drink – she had a bottle in one hand and was waving it about.

Call handler: Has there been any sort of physical altercation?

Caller: I couldn’t see that much just going past, but I did see him pushing her. Pretty hard, from what I could see – and he’s quite a big bloke too.

[background noises]

Hang on a minute – the cab’s dropped me off now and I’m walking back. I think I just heard the sound of breaking glass.

Call handler: I’m arranging for an officer to attend –

Caller: No, hold on – they’re not there any more.

Call handler: They’ve gone into one of the houses?

Caller: I don’t know – not that I can see. They were right there, on the corner, but they’re not there now and I can’t see where they went. Sorry – I didn’t mean to waste your time.

Call handler: No, that’s absolutely fine. It’s what we’re here for. Could you just hold the line a moment, please, so I can take your details.

Baxter presses pause and there’s an audible release of breath. Because even if the caller didn’t give the exact address, they all know who she was talking about.

Caleb Morgan and Freya Hughes.

Ev looks around, her eyes wide. ‘I was at her place less than an hour ago, asking about that night, and she never said a bloody word about this.’

‘It’s not just that, though, is it,’ says Asante quietly. ‘What that caller described – the pushing, the fact that Freya was drunk – it’s exactly what Morgan said happened with Marina Fisher barely two hours later.’

Quinn is nodding. ‘So either he shoved two different women that night –’

‘Not impossible,’ says Ev. ‘Sadly.’

‘– or he’s manipulating the memory,’ finishes Asante. ‘Using the detail of a real incident to create a better fake one.’ He looks at the others. ‘You know what they say – best way to get away with a lie? Wrap it up in a whole lot of truth.’

* * *

Adam Fawley

8 July 2018

13.45

‘What do you want to eat?’

Emma stayed another two hours in the end. I don’t know what they were talking about but it sounded pretty intense from where I was. But then again, that was out in the garden, so I didn’t hear it all. Enough, though, to stop me crashing in to get myself some food, and as a result I’m now borderline hypoglycaemic.

‘There’s some cold chicken,’ says Alex, staring into the fridge. ‘And those avocados could do with eating too.’

Frankly, right now, I’d give my right arm for pie and chips.

‘Everything OK with Emma?’ I say it mostly to be polite, but Alex glances at me and gives a heavy sigh.

‘She’s having a bit of a hard time right now.’

I’m frowning, trying to remember something. ‘Hasn’t she got a new bloke, or am I making that up?’

Alex takes the mayonnaise out of the fridge and reaches towards the cutlery drawer for a spoon. ‘She had a new relationship. Past tense. Last time I saw her she was really excited about it, but looks like it’s all fallen apart already. She’s always had zero luck in that department.’

I make what I hope are the appropriate sympathetic noises.

‘And I know she’d like to have kids too.’

She doesn’t say any more. She doesn’t have to. Emma’s the same age as Alex. It’s the eleventh hour for her, just as it was for us. Only our miracle happened.

I move across and wrap my arms around my wife. She jumps a little and I assume it’s my fault for surprising her, but then she reaches for my hand and places it gently over her belly, smiling up into my face.

‘Looks like there are three of us in this hug.’

* * *

‘Caleb?’

The line is crackling and breaking up, but he recognizes the voice.

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘I just wanted to check in – see how you’re doing.’

He frowns; there’s a delay on the line. An international delay that shouldn’t be there. ‘I thought you were due back today?’