The Serial Killer's Wife Alice Hunter (thriller book recommendations txt) 📖
- Author: Alice Hunter
Book online «The Serial Killer's Wife Alice Hunter (thriller book recommendations txt) 📖». Author Alice Hunter
What the hell did I say to her that night?
Chapter 86
BETH
Now
My body feels heavy but restless today, like my internal organs are itching and the only way to alleviate it is to keep moving. The awful events are taking their toll physically as well as mentally. And I can’t get Julia’s words out of my mind. They’re especially menacing now I know who the car in the spitting incident was registered to. I’ve kept the knowledge it was registered to one Julia Bennington to myself and informed the police officer from Banbury I don’t wish to press charges. I’ve never seen Julia’s car, so I hadn’t even dreamt she could be behind it when Adam told me the owner was female. I’ve no idea who the man was – it most definitely wasn’t her husband. I think it might have been her brother, but I’m not going to ask her.
Right now, it’s the news which holds my attention. The remains of a woman’s body have been found. The grim discovery is already being linked with Tom. They haven’t released the victim’s name; they only say that her identity has been confirmed and her family have been informed.
But I know.
More will follow, they say.
My phone rings and I immediately expect it to be reporters. I nearly hit the decline button, but it’s Maxwell. I let it ring a few more times, debating whether to let it go to voicemail. He was very off with me during the previous two calls – abrupt and business-like. Likely due to my part in all this. I don’t suppose he imagined that the wife of the accused would help the police secure such damning proof.
I answer it. It’s to tell me the latest updates, he says, about the evidence against Tom. He is downbeat; his tone is flat, which leads me to mirror it. It’s a depressing conversation.
‘Alongside the evidence you were aware of, Beth,’ he says, in such a way as to leave me in no doubt he’s angry with me, ‘I need to inform you of what else the police have in order to adequately prepare us all for the trial.’
‘Before you go on, Maxwell, I want to say something.’
He gives an audible sigh. ‘Right, go on,’ he says.
I haven’t prepared for this conversation, so my speech is scattered with pauses and umming and ahing. But he seems to get my point, that I hadn’t meant to sabotage Tom’s chances of getting off – it wasn’t intentional, it was just that I’d become so stressed and confused, and the police backed me into a corner which I’d struggled to get out of again. ‘I crumbled, Maxwell. It was all too much,’ I say through my tears.
He mumbles a bit, then carries on as though I’ve not spoken. But his words seem softer; his hard edges are smoothed. I settle back on the sofa and listen to his monotone voice as he explains the evidence. He would make a great hypnotherapist.
‘The forensics found blood stains at Katie Williams’ flat—’
‘Really? After all this time?’
‘Yes, Beth,’ he says. ‘Even when someone attempts to wash blood away, traces can be found. And originally the hallway floor wasn’t carpeted – once they lifted it, they found it.’
‘That’s where Tom threw the paperweight that killed her,’ I say.
‘Yes, that appears to corroborate what you say Tom told you. But there’s more.’
‘What do you mean?’ I’m suddenly nervous. Tom said he’d thrown it to prevent Katie leaving; that she’d died there and he’d left her, afraid of what he’d done.
‘The blood trailed from the hallway to another room, which is likely to have been Katie’s bedroom at the time. But there wasn’t enough blood, they reckon, for them to believe it was a life-threatening injury.’
This information barrels at me. It isn’t how Tom described what happened. ‘So, what you’re saying is, Tom hadn’t killed her? He’d just injured her and she managed to crawl to her room?’
‘Not quite.’
‘What, then?’
‘Initial post-mortem results show a fractured hyoid bone. Indicative of strangulation.’
My hand unconsciously goes to my own throat. Christ, Tom strangled her too.
It was no accident.
For a moment I’m shocked, and then I’m angry. Angry he lied. Again. But then my emotions settle. I have to be honest with myself, if nobody else: this is what I expected. Deep down, I had always known it was no accident. Nor Phoebe’s death. And Natalia’s death wasn’t a sex game gone too far either. He’d strangled her to kill her. He’d meant to murder them all.
I really have had a lucky escape.
Strangely detached, I ask Maxwell how Tom is bearing up. I don’t know why.
‘As you’d expect, given the circumstances. And although he hasn’t been told you were the one to divulge the whereabouts of the body, he will of course know it was you, Beth.’
‘Yes. I’m aware of that. Tell him I’m sorry, but I did what I had to do. What any good mother would.’
Chapter 87
BETH
Four months later
With the huge amount of circumstantial evidence, the forensic files and the DNA profile secured from Katie Williams’ burial site, together with her mobile phone – complete with Tom’s fingerprints – the jury only took three hours to deliberate. It’d felt more like three days. They returned a unanimous guilty verdict.
To say I was relieved didn’t come close.
But seeing Tom in the dock was much more traumatic than I’d anticipated.
The way he looked at me had made me shudder.
Hatred. Those beautiful peacock-blue eyes were dark, and completely void of love. I’ve betrayed him more than anyone else in his life; even his parents. And that’s the message he asked Maxwell to convey.
I’ll have to live with that.
* * *
‘Well done, Beth. I’m so proud of you. You’re the strongest person I know.’ Adam envelops me in his arms, and I stay there for a moment, cocooned in this safe, comfortable embrace. Having Adam here today has meant the world to me. At the beginning, he’d been cautious about us being
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