Jessica’s eighteen-month-old sat in the middle of the front room, grunting benignly at her unexpected visitors. Sally was full of beans, eager to play, and without needing to be told Alison picked her up and took her off to investigate her activity centre.
‘Is he dead?’
Jessica’s question was brutally blunt. Her body was shaking, her eyes just about containing her tears. Helen’s eyes flashed across the family photos on the mantelpiece – there was no doubt that Jessica’s husband was their latest victim.
‘This morning we found the body of a man. We believe it is Chris, yes.’
Jessica let her head fall. She started to sob. She was trying to suck them in, to hide her distress from her daughter, but the shock was too great.
‘Jessica, the next few days are going to be bewildering, devastating, scary, but I want you to know that we will be supporting you every step of the way. Alison will be here to help with Sally, to provide any assistance you might need and to answer your questions. If you have family who can help, we should call them now. You may even want to think about staying elsewhere for a few days. I can’t discount the possibility that the press will try to contact you here.’
Jessica looked up, bemused.
‘Why would they do that?’
‘We believe Chris was murdered. I know that’s hard to take in… that this all seems like a horrible nightmare, but I can’t hide the facts from you. It’s important that I tell you as much as we know, so you can help us find who did this.’
‘How? … Where?’
‘He was found on Eling Great Marsh. He drove out there in the early hours of this morning.’
‘Why? Why was he there? We never go there… we’ve never been there.’
‘We believe he drove there with a companion. A woman.’
‘Who?’ Anger had crept into Jessica’s voice now.
‘We don’t know her identity. But we believe she might be a sex worker.’
Jessica closed her eyes in horror. Helen watched her with profound sympathy as another foundation wall of her life collapsed. Helen had had her life smashed to bits more than once and she knew the awful pain that Jessica was experiencing. Nevertheless she had to give her the truth – all of it – without sparing her anything.
‘Eling Great Marsh is sometimes used by prostitutes as a discreet place to conduct their business. We think that’s why Chris went there. I really am sorry, Jessica.’
‘The stupid fucking bastard.’
Jessica spat out the words with such violence that it silenced the room. Sally looked up from her play, for the first time sensing that something was wrong.
