Page 11 of The Fall

‘Like I said,’ Jen interjects. ‘These are things we have to ask.’

Steen nods slightly but he doesn’t look sorry. ‘Do you have a receipt for the fudge?’

‘I paid cash.’

‘Do you have the fudge?’

‘I ate it, and I threw the packaging away at the show.’ She’d got rid of the evidence of her purchase because she felt guilty at allowing herself a sweet treat when she’d recently cleared the cupboards and fridge at home of anything fattening and insisted that she and Tom go on diets.

‘Did you buy anything else?’

‘I didn’t. Don’t you think it’s premature to treat me like this when it’s obvious that Tom died of an accident? You said he hada bump on his head. He must have tripped and fallen into the pool. It must have knocked him out.’

Steen acts as if she hasn’t spoken. ‘We found Tom’s phone in his pocket. It was cracked and waterlogged. Effectively dead.’

‘Oh,’ she says. She’s not sure if he’s implying something.

‘Was it cracked when you last saw it?’

‘No,’ she says. ‘We charge our phones in the kitchen overnight because I don’t like them in the bedroom. His phone was fine yesterday morning. But Tom’s clumsy. Maybe he dropped it.’

‘Maybe,’ Steen says. ‘We found something else in his pocket, too.’ He passes her a photograph. ‘Do you recognise it?’

He hands her an evidence bag with a business card inside it. The card is matte and cream coloured, quite firm in spite of the water damage; it feels like quality, the kind of card that people have been eager to press into Tom and Nicole’s palms since they won the money. There’s text in the middle of the card: SADIE’S MASSAGES. A phone number beneath it.

‘What’s this?’ Nicole asks. ‘Who’s Sadie?’ She’s never heard of this person. Tom didn’t get massages.

‘We were hoping you could tell us.’

‘I can’t.’

‘We tried calling the number and didn’t get an answer, but we’ve left a message asking for a call back and we’ll keep trying. We’re working on tracing the owner of the phone.’

Nicole turns the evidence bag over. The card is blank on the other side. She flips it back and stares at the text.

‘Is this a sexual massage?’ she asks.

‘I don’t think you need to jump to conclusions.’

Nicole can’t understand it. Tom had no secrets from her. He was an open book,heropen book. She knew the passcode for his phone and his computer because he was unimaginative enough to use the same one as she did. She knows what websites he looks at and what he searches for online, who he talks to and the very few people he messages.

She peers at the card again, hoping it might spark some recognition or memory, but nothing comes to her. It’s frustrating. ‘Can you find this person?’ she asks.

‘We’ll do our best,’ Jen says.

‘Tom doesn’t collect business cards.’

‘Did he meet anyone new lately that you know of?’

She tries to think and shakes her head. ‘No one. I mean, there have been people coming to the house to do things for us who we’ve met together. I’ll give you details. But otherwise, he hardly leaves the Barn. He loves it here.’

‘Does he have hobbies?’

‘Not really. Not yet. We’re getting used to living here. Like I said, he spends a lot of time at home. We both do.’

‘Can I ask why you moved here, to Lancaut?’

‘My mum and dad used to bring me walking here when I was a kid. My dad said it was the most beautiful place in the world. He was from Chepstow originally, but I grew up in Cardiff.’

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