Tastes Like Fear (D.I. Marnie Rome 3) (42 page)

‘May wanted a garden,’ Noah remembered. ‘She was digging here. She found something.’

‘Or she suspected something, after he stopped her digging. When we found her, you said she looked like the killer’s confession.’

May, laid out like a child on that bed.

Calum Marsh’s confession.

To more than one murder?

‘Neve went missing when he was fifteen.’ Noah could taste the turned earth, rancid with litter. ‘He killed his sister when he was fifteen? Why?’

‘Any number of reasons,’ Marnie said. ‘Because he hated her. Because she wanted to leave him on his own in this house with their father’s rages.’ Her voice tightened. ‘Because he loved her.’

The forensic team moved around the black pit of earth, erecting the tent. One of the team petted the dog’s coat. ‘Good girl. Good Missy.’

‘Smart, independent, ambitious.’ Marnie moved back from the perimeter, drawing her coat closer about her. ‘That’s how Calum described his sister to Gina. All the things he hated those girls being. Grown-up … Neve had been wanting to leave home for years. He’d talked her out of it more than once. What if that last talk ended badly? What if this,’ she nodded at the pit, ‘was their last talk.’

‘He came to the station when we were investigating May’s death.’ Marsh sitting, looking beaten, under the station’s posters. ‘Did he
want
to be caught?’

‘He was living with the secret of Neve’s death for a long time. That kind of secret, the weight of it? I think he buried it as best he could. Maybe he’d half forgotten he was a killer. If he was still searching for Neve … Unless that was a lie he told to the girls. We know he made a decent
life with Gina and Logan. He was a good father, or as good as he could be. Then when his parents died …’

Marnie looked up at the house. ‘He had to come back here. To the photos, the memories, her room like that, untouched. He filled this house with the girls he found. He wasn’t hurting them, not at the beginning. Grace said as much, and Eric too. He wanted us to see the writing on May, to understand the pain she was in. He left her in a place she loved. He was in pain too. That’s how Eric saw it. And Eric understood about secrets better than anyone else in that place.’

She stopped, shaking her head. ‘Maybe. Maybe I’m wrong.’

Missy had her ears back, still pointing at the black earth, the place where May had started digging until Calum made her stop. The forensic tent had flooded it with shadow.

‘Maybe we’re going to find more bodies,’ Marnie said, ‘more lost girls.’

It could be days, or weeks, until this place gave up its secrets.

Years until they had all the answers.

Or it could be never.

Noah stood at her side, shivering, as the team began to dig.

Author’s Note

Tastes Like Fear
is a work of fiction, but I found the following to be particularly relevant and/or inspirational when I was writing and later editing the book:

Dark Heart: The Shocking Truth About Hidden Britain
by Nick Davies, Vintage, 1998

Paranoia: The 21st Century Fear
by Daniel Freeman and Jason Freeman, Oxford University Press, 2008

Loud in the House of Myself
by Stacy Pershall, W. W. Norton, 2011

Explore Everything
by Bradley L. Garrett, Verso Books, 2013

‘“If I move, he’ll attack”: Mastering Rage in Prisoners’ by Jonathan Asser in
The Observer
, 9 March 2014

‘A Victim’s Tale’ by Spencer Ackerman in
The Observer
, 17 December 2014

Acknowledgements

This one’s for the brave people, especially the girls. For Deb the Punk, my friend when I was fifteen (where have all the punks gone?), and Jude. Everyone who’s ever felt out of place in her own skin, or out of step, or out of time. Who’s refused to fit in, or has raised her voice against the tyranny of sameness – who stood out and paid the price, but stood out even so. This is for you.

Thank you, of course, to Vicki, Elizabeth and Jo at Headline.

And to Jane, Stephanie, Claire, Mary and everyone at Gregory & Co.

To the bloggers, reviewers, and most of all the readers – thank you.

And to Terence Waywell, who won the Get in Character
auction in support of the CLIC Sargent charity for children with cancer. I hope you approve of your role in the story.