Silent Truths (15 page)

‘Tomorrow morning. Eleven o’clock.’

She thought about the source, detesting it and not at all understanding it when there was no reason in the world why Elliot Russell would give her this kind of information. However, she obviously had to act on it, and if there was some kind of price to pay later, she’d deal with it then.

Chapter 7

BETH WAS LYING
on the floor in the back of Bruce’s car. Her eyes were closed, her body jammed between the seats with the scent of new leather and carpet filling her nose. The unsteady motion, and jarring into her side, were making her feel sick. She detested the press for forcing this indignity on her, though in a way it was to punish them, depriving them of even the shadowiest shot as she entered the prison. God only knew who had tipped them off – probably someone inside, an officer, another inmate. Did they have any idea how miserable their constant intrusion was making her life? Did they even care? All that mattered to them was the fact that Beth Ashby was visiting her husband for the first time since his arrest. It should be all that mattered to her too, but she had to get through this humiliation first.

After a while Bruce brought the car to a stop and came round to open the door. She looked up at him, blinking at the sun’s glare. She felt foolish and resentful, though anxiety was already moving in like a prowler.

‘No one can see you here,’ he told her. ‘They let us park out of the way, but I’ll have to wait outside. These are normal visiting hours – not for lawyers.’

Allowing him to help her up, she climbed out of the car and brushed herself down. She was wearing a long tan dress with a brown leather belt and sandals – nothing fancy, though she’d taken care with her hair and make-up, wanting to remind Colin that she could make herself beautiful, and that she wanted to for him.

Bruce led her to the gate lodge, where they were ushered into a kind of waiting room. There were at least two dozen people already there, and children too, waiting for their own snatched hour with cohorts or loved ones. Beth’s heart twisted with dismay. She’d never encountered people like this at such close quarters. Almost immediately she was afraid of them, for their stares were hostile and mocking, and their sneering asides about her were obviously meant to be heard. A tall, fat woman with a shorn head, silver studs in her ears and nose, and tattoos on her arms, gave her a leering look, then waggled her tongue crudely. Beth blushed and dropped her eyes as several people sniggered.

Bruce’s hand tightened on her arm.

There were others in the waiting room who appeared as well-dressed and awkward as she did, but none of them sought eye contact. Mainly they stared at the notices and leaflets on the walls, all of which seemed to bear aggressive reminders of who ruled this establishment. Wandsworth’s prison officers weren’t known for their humanity to inmates, or visitors, and already Beth could sense an undercurrent of violence that seemed to seep
not only from the arrogant notices, but from the very walls they were hung on.

After a while two guards came to release the visitors from their temporary confinement. Bruce gave her a quick hug, then watched her as, white-faced and cautious, she moved forward with the group. Suddenly an elbow slammed into her ribs, and she grunted with pain. The woman with the shaved head stepped in front her, blocking her view as they continued after the guards. Beth held back, trying to distance herself from the woman, but was jostled and derided by those trying to get past her.

It was so horrible and terrifying and demeaning that she wanted to run back to Bruce. But she made herself think only of Colin and pressed on. She tried to concentrate on how she felt about seeing him, but now she was here she seemed to have lost contact with herself, as well as the world outside. She was suddenly horribly afraid of how he was going to look. Would she be able to keep the shock from her face if it was bad?

Dread was binding itself tighter and tighter round her heart as they proceeded along corridors and through double-locked doors. It was like tramping towards the dead end of a netherworld. She thought of the dazzling sunlight outside, shining down on the outer shell of this dreadful place. The eerie Victorian gloom was even worse than she’d imagined.

Then they were there, herding into the visitors’ room. Twenty or more men, prisoners, were seated at small square tables, like oversized pupils at their desks. The air was rank with old cigarette smoke
and stale body odour. Beth looked around as her group started to fracture and move out between the tables.
Colin. Colin, where are you?

Then she saw him, on the other side of the room, at a table up against the wall. It was a man she didn’t know who looked like her husband. He signalled for her to come forward. Torn between resistance and longing, she began weaving through the tables, excusing herself as she tried to pass, apologizing profusely when she accidentally bumped someone hard. Then she was standing over him, looking down at him, but instead of the prolonged, urgent embrace and breathless relief she’d expected, he merely took her hands and guided her to the chair on the other side of his table.

Her heart was so full she could only look at him, while inwardly she railed and recoiled from the gauntness of his cheeks and bruising shadows round his eyes. The laughter lines that seeped into his cheeks now seemed etched with pain, the touches of grey in his hair had become thick, burrowing streaks. It was badly cut, his chin was roughly shaved. She didn’t recognize the brown T-shirt and dun-coloured trousers he was wearing. He’d never owned clothes like that before. She guessed Bruce had brought them, as this was no place for Colin’s natural sartorial elegance. She wished she knew what to say, but for the moment she could only cling to his hands and stare into his unnervingly distant eyes.

‘How are you?’ he said.

She let her breath go, and tightened her grip on his hands. ‘I’m fine. You look …’ She bit her lips as they trembled.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want you to come.’

Odd memories began flashing through her mind: times of laughter, love, anger, excitement. The way he touched her face in affection, and gazed into her eyes with humour. The crazy way he’d twirl her round in moments of triumph, then hold her close when desire arose. She saw their faces twisted with anger, heard their voices full of reproach. So much hurt, anguish, tears and reprisals. She felt suddenly giddy with the power of her love. What was going through his head now, she wondered. What was really in his heart?

There were so many words she longed to hear, but when finally he spoke all he said was, ‘You’ve lost weight.’

She was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. She stared down at their hands and fought the surging dread inside her.
Please God, this wasn’t how it was going to be from now on; only ever seeing each other in a place like this, never able to share anything beyond it again, always struggling to find the right words
.

He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to his. She could barely see him through the tears, though she forced a smile. ‘I’m trying to be strong for you,’ she said, ‘but I don’t think I’m doing very well.’

‘Be strong for yourself,’ he told her. ‘I don’t want you to worry about me.’

Her eyes were incredulous. ‘How can I not?’ she whispered. ‘Thinking of you here, of what’s happening … I never think about anything else.’ She swallowed hard, then flinched as a woman nearby suddenly erupted from her seat and began
screaming obscenities at the gorilla of a man she was visiting. The man loomed over her, threatening all kinds of violence, until a guard moved swiftly to break up the row, and the woman was escorted out.

Colin and Beth turned back to each other. ‘That’s another reason I didn’t want you to come,’ he said. ‘It’s a terrible place. I didn’t want you to see me here.’

‘But you won’t stay,’ she told him. ‘You can’t.’

His tired, bloodshot eyes were holding tight to hers. ‘Beth, we can’t pretend –’

She drew back. ‘No. No. Don’t say it.’

‘You have to listen,’ he told her harshly. ‘This isn’t going to go away.’

‘It has to. You have to make it. I don’t know what you’ve done …’

Anger tightened his grip on her hands. ‘Do you think I did it?’ he demanded in a whisper. ‘Do you think I’m capable of killing another human being?’

She stared down at his hands and saw them strangling a young girl to death.

‘Did you say that?’ he urged bitterly. ‘What it said in the paper? Was that really your first question, “Who did he kill?”?’

Her eyes came up to his.

His face twisted with disgust. ‘That you, my own wife –’

‘Of course I don’t believe you did it,’ she hissed. ‘But what am I supposed to think when all I know is what they’ve told me.’

‘And what did they tell you? That I was caught in the act? The tights wrapped round my hands, body still warm beside me, half my clothes missing?’ His
drawn, handsome face was paling as memory clouded his eyes. She could smell the familiar aroma that was him, feel the life pulsing through his veins, the anguish and fear drowning his heart.

‘Yes, that’s what they told me,’ she said.

A lit match landed on the table between them. She heard someone snickering nearby. Without looking up Colin pinched the flame with his fingers, then returned his eyes to hers. ‘It’s all true,’ he said.

Her heart caught on the words, but before she could speak he said, ‘Except being caught in the act. She was already dead. When I found her, she was already …’ He didn’t repeat the word.

Her chest was tight, her mind was reeling, becoming entangled in the deafening acoustics of the hall, the scream and clatter of the children, garble of voices … ‘Then what happened?’ she said, struggling to keep herself focused.

He swallowed hard, then rubbed his hands over his face as though to push away the tiredness and confusion. ‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ he said. ‘I mean for you. For either of us. But I want you to know the truth, insofar as I know it myself.’ He took several breaths, as though drawing in courage. Then, reaching for her hands again, he continued, ‘I met Sophie Long at a party one night, six weeks, maybe two months ago –’

‘I’ve heard the rumours of a prostitution ring,’ she interrupted. ‘Was she one of them?’

‘The ring exists,’ he told her. ‘And yes, she was a part of it.’

‘So you paid her?’

‘Yes, I paid her. Sometimes. Not always.’

‘Meaning you were so good she’d give it to you for free?’

‘Beth, please, I know this is hard, but right now what I did with Sophie, whether I paid her or not, just isn’t relevant.’

‘It is if she was blackmailing you. Were you paying her for that?’

‘She wasn’t blackmailing me. She had nothing to blackmail me about.’

‘You don’t think this orgy scene was –’

‘She wasn’t blackmailing me,’ he cut in. ‘Not about that, or anything else.’

Her eyes were smouldering with resentment, but in the end she managed to let it go and told him to continue.

‘When you changed the locks, that last time,’ he said, ‘I went to stay with Sophie. Just for a few nights. Her flat was –’

‘I don’t want to know about her flat,’ she interrupted. ‘Just tell me what happened that day.’

He nodded, then drew a hand over his face as though to loosen the tension. ‘Sophie and I had developed this little –
game
I suppose you could call it, or routine. When she knew I was about to arrive she’d go into the bedroom to wait. Sometimes she’d undress and sometimes not. On that day she did. My role was to come into the flat, take off my own clothes, or at least some of them, and go to find her. So that’s what I did that day. I let myself in at the front door, removed my trousers and underpants, and went into the bedroom to find her.’

Beth was staring at his neck, the dark bristles and bobbing Adam’s apple, and thinking of how often she had kissed that neck, stroked it and loved it.

‘Her eyes …’ he said, his voice so low she could hardly hear him. ‘I saw straight away … I knew something was wrong. Her face was …’ He stopped, seeming unable to continue.

‘I saw the tights,’ he eventually continued, ‘around her throat. I tried to unwind them. I thought she might still be alive. Then the door opened and the cleaning woman came in. She took one look at us and started to scream. I tried to calm her down, but she ran out of the flat, yelling that she knew who I was and she was going to call the police. I think she went to the flat opposite, I’m not sure. I thought about getting out of there, but she’d recognized me, and if I didn’t stay, well, how was it going to look?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘No better than it does now, I guess. So I dressed and waited for the police to arrive.’

Beth looked at him. Though her heart was pounding she was barely connecting to his words. She felt disoriented and sick. She knew she needed to respond, but she couldn’t make her mind work. Suddenly a huge wave of longing and denial swept through her. She didn’t want to lose him. She wanted only for none of this to have happened.

‘It’s the way it happened,’ he said softly. ‘I swear.’

She looked at him briefly, then gazed down at her hands.

‘Do you believe me?’ he asked.

She took a breath, nodded, then put a hand to her head. ‘Yes, I believe you,’ she gasped. Her breath was becoming ragged, her chest hurt, and she was suddenly afraid she was going to have another attack of the kind she had had in Georgie’s car.

‘Beth, are you OK?’ he asked. ‘Take it steady. Breathe deeply.’

‘I’m OK,’ she responded. ‘I just … I keep getting these feelings … It’s as though I’m losing control … Oh God, why is this happening?’

‘Sssh,’ he soothed. ‘It’s all right. Just calm down. Everything’s going to be all right.’

Her eyes were suddenly harsh. ‘Tell me how!’ she cried in a whisper. ‘You say you didn’t kill her, you want me to believe you didn’t kill her, but you were the only one there.’

‘I swear, I didn’t kill her,’ he responded.

‘Then tell me who did.’

‘I don’t know who did.’

She took a few more breaths, trying to keep herself steady. ‘So who do you
think
could have killed her?’ she asked.