“I won’t go away until we’ve talked. Please let me come in.”
He stepped back into the flat, and she picked up her bag and followed him. He was sitting on the end of his bed, still in his jeans but barefoot. She felt like a schoolgirl, standing in the open doorway. She passed him the envelope. “I meant to post this to you.”
He didn’t take it, so she threw it on the bed. He opened it and looked at the picture of her turning somersaults.
“Very nice,” he said, tossing it aside.
She didn’t know where to begin, and he didn’t make it easy, looking at his watch. “I have to be on duty tomorrow, so why don’t you say what you have to say so I can get some sleep.”
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“Try starting with what it feels like to think you know a woman, trust her, fall in love with her, and then find out she thinks you’re a murder suspect. You’ve brought her into your family, and all the time she was fucking checking out if...” He shook his head. “How could you be with me and even contemplate that I could not only be lying to you, but using you because I was some warped killer.”
“I didn’t think that.”
“Of course you bloody did. Why don’t you admit it? To be so two-faced beggars belief.”
“I’m not two-faced.”
“Christ, you even admitted what you thought when you found the blue blanket — and what’s this about dog hairs? My best mate’s never going to have a life — what’s with you suspecting even him?”
Anna stood in front of him, crying. She knew what he was saying was partly true, and she didn’t know how she could rectify the damage to their relationship.
“I’ll go because I don’t see how I can make it up to you. All I can say is that...”
“Say what? Always on duty, are you?”
“Yes, if you must know. Yes, I am, or I used to be, but not with you.”
He laughed, but it wasn’t humorous, it was cold laughter, and his eyes were still intensely angry.
“Can I make a cup of coffee?” Anna asked.
“No, you can just leave me alone and go back to London. I mean it, Anna. I can’t deal with this.”
She went into his kitchen. She was shaking, and even though she didn’t want a coffee, she made one. She walked back to the bedroom; Ken was now in bed, leaving only a small bedside lamp on.
“Do you want one?” she asked.
He sighed and shook his head. She moved slowly into the room and then sat on the edge of the bed. She was hesitant at first, beginning to explain about her visits to Cameron Welsh, the ongoing interrogation of their only suspect, John Smiley, how they were attempting to build a case against him but how it continued to fall apart no matter what new developments implicated him.
“I was told that the blanket found wrapped around Dorota Pelagia had German shepherd hairs, and we are certain it was one of the blankets issued to prisons.”
He lay with his eyes closed.
“Are you listening to me? Look, what happens is the trail of clues sort of fire up inside your brain. We’ve thought that our killer might even be a police officer or someone that the victims were able to immediately trust. Something clicked inside my head when I saw your friend in his security uniform and with the same type of dog that would leave hairs on the blue blankets. For a second I was suspicious, or what it was more like was piecing together a jigsaw. Cameron Welsh has maintained that there was a witness, and he may have been right. He’s constantly mentioned that he knows more, that he seeks out small clues he wants us to follow. We’d reached a conclusion that he was lying, that he didn’t have anything more to tell us, but what if he knew all along about someone — possibly a security guard? It would make sense, and that’s what he has been holding back.”
Ken remained with his eyes closed.
“I hated having to sit with him. He was constantly giving me these sexual gloating looks. He repels me, but I had to meet with him because my boss insisted. After the last visit, I was certain that it had all been a ploy to get me there, that he was enjoying himself, that he might even have had some fantasy about me, but I only agreed to meet with him again because it meant that I could spend time with you.”
Still no reaction.
“For the first time in my life, I want to be with someone more than I want my career. Previously, I would be the first person to forgo leave, but I’ve taken more time off than I have on any other case because I wanted to be with you, and if you asked me, I would walk away from the entire career that to date has been the most important thing in my life.”
He said nothing. There was a long pause, and she stood up. “I’ll go now.”
He flipped open the duvet, inviting her in, and she crawled in beside him fully clothed. He lifted his arm for her to snuggle closer, holding her tightly.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said softly.
She remained beside him in her clothes all night. They fell asleep, exhausted. She was woken by him gently touching her face; he was already dressed for work.
“I have to go, but I can be back early afternoon. Can you wait for me?”
“You’ll never get rid of me.”
He straightened and headed for the door, then turned back. “You know, maybe I was so mad because I’d had a really bad day. Cameron Welsh is making life difficult at the unit. We had an unpleasant fight between inmates, and he was the one that sparked it off; we’ve even had him sedated, but he’s getting worse by the day. I think you were right — I think he does have this fantasy about you, and whether or not it’s my intuition or his, I think he knows about us.”
“How?”
“No idea, but he’s made a few snide remarks. I ignore them. If you think he does have more information, I doubt you’ll get any sense out of him.”
She sat up. “What did he say about us?”
“He never says anything directly; it’s mumbled when he passes me. He said something about redheads being the devil. Another time he said I’d pay for betraying him, just crazy stuff. But we’ve had to make him give up a lot of his privileges, so that enrages him, and like I told you, he’s refusing to wash and eat.”
“Will he be transferred?”
“I’ve suggested it. If he acts any crazier, he should be shipped out to Broadmoor. So that’s why I flew off the handle so easily.”
“You should have told me.”
“It wasn’t the right time. And then, well, you know what happened next.”
Anna jumped on top of the bed and held out her arms. He moved away. “There was something else I intended to do and... I don’t know if this is the right time even now.” He went to the dresser and opened a drawer. He took out a small box and then returned to the bed. “It’s secondhand — Victorian, I don’t know if you’ll like it — and maybe you will want to spend time thinking about it. You don’t have to give me an answer straightaway.”
She could feel her heart thudding. He moved closer and opened the box. It was a ring, a thin gold shaft with flat rose diamonds and pearls.
“Is it what I think it is?” She had to catch her breath.
“Like I said, you don’t have to make any decision now. It might not even fit.”
“Is it an engagement ring?” She could hardly get the words out.
“Yes.”
She hurled herself at him, almost making him drop it, hugging him and kissing his face.
“Do you want to try it on?”
She held out her left hand, and he took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her ring finger. It was not a perfect fit, but she didn’t care; she felt as if she would explode with happiness.
“Do you want me to ask you properly?”
“Yes.”
He flushed and licked his lips.
“Okay... Will you marry me, Anna Travis?”
“YES, YES, YES, YES, YES!”