Murder on the christmas.., p.22
Murder on the Christmas Express, page 22
“You don’t have to say more to me,” Roz said. “I’ve been trained in, and taken far too many, sexual assault witness statements, but I don’t want you to be triggered out here, without professional psychological help on hand.”
“I want to tell you,” Ember said. “Have done ever since I saw you.” She took a breath, then began. “We stopped somewhere in the Downs. There was no one around, and that felt romantic at the time. We had the picnic and we kissed for a bit, then he wanted more, but I wasn’t ready. His face changed then, like he was taking off a mask. He said that he’d waited and wasted enough time and money on me and that I had to stop being such a coy, prick-teasing cunt.”
Ember paused. His words reverberated in her head.
“You’re here now,” Roz said. “You’re safe with me, in the present.”
Ember tried to anchor herself in the train, in the now. Her breathing slowed slightly, enough for her to take a deep breath and say it. “He then raped me. Vaginally and anally.” Tears were falling now. “Pushed me onto the picnic blanket with everything on it. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even scream. I tried but there were no words or sounds. After, he told me to pull down my dress from over my head, then spat in my face. Then he drove me home, talking all the way about the cars he was going to sell to hot women the next day. Before I got out, he said my tits were even more disappointing than I thought. Somehow, I got into the house and didn’t get out of bed for three days. I nearly lost my job. Everything changed that day.”
Roz put her hand over her mouth as if she was going to be sick. “I understand completely.”
Ember looked at Roz then, seeing her for the first time. “You keep saying that. That you understand. And that you know the signs. Why is that?”
“Why do you think?”
“Because it happened to you?”
Roz was holding on to her knees, her knuckles trembling. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ember said, tears flowing down her cheeks.
Roz tried to sit upright, as if a straight back would sort everything out. She had probably been told by someone that it did. “This isn’t about me though.”
“That’s just it.” Ember shuffled forward and reached for Roz’s hand. “It’s about every person who has been made to feel like nothing. Violated mentally and physically. Extinguished. How many on this train have gone through an experience where, at the very best, the next day they have curled up into a ball and screamed silently into a pillow?”
“It’s probably easier to say who hasn’t.” Roz’s voice was very quiet. Very small.
“It’s my turn to say, to you this time, that you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Roz seemed to be taking little gasps of air. Tears fell, but her words seemed stuck. After five minutes or so she said, “I don’t think I can. Not yet. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’d ask that of you and can’t myself.”
“There’ll be a time when it won’t feel like you’re swallowing mothballs just as you try to speak.”
“That’s exactly how it feels. Like they’ve taken away my voice as well as so much else.” Roz paused, thinking of the courage Meg had in her final moments. “Meg wanted to tell the truth. That’s what her last live stream was for, but she never got to tell us. But I found a video where she accuses him of rape, and I’m hoping there’ll be more saved on her phone or on another device. Then she can have the final word, not him.”
“I want that too,” Ember said. “When it comes to court, I want to plead not guilty to his murder, so I can stand and tell the world what he was. I will tell them how, after the picnic, he pushed me facedown onto the cold plates that were covered in stars. I have never wished on a star since, although I suppose it worked. I wished he wouldn’t kill me.”
Ember still felt how very cool the plates were. Felt the slight crack in the one that was under her fingertips. That was what she had concentrated on, not what he was doing. But she could hear his noises. Smell the aftershave and semen.
Roz squeezed Ember’s hand. “Come back to me,” she said. Her other hand was placed over her heart. “Try not to get lost in the memory. You’re in the present, not the past.”
“The thing I hate remembering most though, is that I didn’t say anything about it to him. Not that day or ever. I went into a police station, gave my name and his, place of work, and said I wanted to report a rape. But then I saw an officer laughing—not at me, at something stupid probably, but I couldn’t do it.”
“Just having done that will help your case,” Roz said.
“I could have done so much more though. I just moved on as much as possible, although when people say they’ve moved on, what they mean is they’ve packed up their baggage and taken it somewhere else. I’ve never unpacked it. I fastened it under my coat and never took it off. I assumed Grant had moved on to someone else, and he had. A few years later, I was nearly sick when I saw him on the front cover of something-or-other with Meg. But you know what I also felt? Relieved.”
“You were off the hook.”
“At first I didn’t think of him doing the same, or worse, to someone else because…” Ember trailed off, still unable to believe her worst thoughts weren’t true.
“Because you thought there was something wrong with you, not him. That you set him off. That you were in some way to blame. Is that what you thought?” Roz asked. “Because I did. I still do. And that was thirty years ago. Part of you knew that it wasn’t true though. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stayed to keep an eye on Ayana, Liv, and the others.” Roz thought for a moment. “The pestle and mortar isn’t the usual accessory for a sleeper cabin though. How long have you been planning to kill him?”
“Six months or so. I saw some bruises on Meg in a photo, then a video where she said she’d fallen over. I knew then that she was covering for him, that he would be hurting her and probably others too. And I wanted him to stop raping me in my head.”
“So what was your plan, exactly?”
“I knew he was allergic to nuts and that at some point I had to lace his food or drink with peanuts. He’d told me on the drive that he always carried an EpiPen with him, so I knew I just had to remove it. When Meg announced on her Instagram a month or so ago that they were taking the sleeper on the twenty-third, I decided it was the best time to get close to him.”
“How did you react to seeing him again?”
“I felt sick. I almost didn’t get on the train, and then I saw him on the concourse. His face all screwed up, like this—” Ember scrunched up her face into one of disgust. “He was blaming Meg for the train being delayed. And so I told myself I’d do it. I’d remove him from the world and make sure Meg and people like her never had to be made small again.” Ember felt a surge of triumph. That was what she’d intended, and that was what she’d done. She exhaled loudly. “Feels good to say it.”
“They say confession is good for you,” replied Roz. “I prefer kale.”
Ember laughed, then they were both silent for a moment.
The snow had stopped. Nothing moved outside. Ember had never felt such stillness. She wished she could drink it.
She sighed. “They’ll want to know why I killed Beck, won’t they?”
Roz nodded. “That will be what most people find difficult to understand, yes.”
“She was trying to blackmail me. She walked past my room when I was crushing the peanuts and saw when I slipped the nuts into the open bottle of champagne. It was the main reason she wanted us to all go back to our rooms, so she could tell me what she wanted. Can you guess what it was?”
Roz started twisting the mirrored cube. It sounded like a little robot bird, pecking away at seeds. Then she stopped, suddenly. “You work as IT admin at King’s. Beck wanted you to make sure that she got onto the King’s College quiz team for Geek Street by fixing the results.”
“She did.”
“But why kill her? That’s what I don’t understand. Why not just do what she said or come to me?”
“That had been my plan, but she started pushing me, telling me I was pathetic. That a man like Grant would never even look at me. I had borrowed Meg’s scissors earlier, as I had a pulled thread in my dress pocket, and I just grabbed them. It happened before I knew it. And then there was blood.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to say at this point,” Roz said, about to turn off the recording.
“Yes,” Ember said, sitting up straighter. “I’m doing this, confessing, because I want to speak out at last. I’ve been quiet for too long. Who knows how many women he hurt between raping me and now. But today, I get to stop other young women suffering because of him.” She looked at Roz. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“You said to me in the club car, not long after we left Euston, that it felt better to do something rather than nothing. Well, this is my ‘something.’ My contribution to the cause. I may be the killer, but he’s the real criminal.”
“Now I understand,” Roz said. But would anyone else? “That’s everything for now.” Roz turned off the recorder and pulled Ember into a hug. “I’ll help in any way I can.” And Ember at last felt she wasn’t alone.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Now get some rest,” Roz said, when Ember had stopped crying.
She nodded and scrambled under the covers like a little girl at bedtime.
Roz gently tucked the blanket around Ember. When she went to leave, Ember grabbed her hand. “What’ll happen to me now?”
“I know we just recorded your confession, but you’ll need to make an official statement too.” Roz looked her in the eyes and tried to communicate everything she was keeping inside, and what would stay inside, if she had her way.
She became very still. Her pupils were belladonna black, her voice very quiet. “How long will I be in prison?”
“I don’t know. There are mitigating circumstances for Grant’s death, but the extensive premeditation will be a problem. And Beck’s death may have been in the moment, but it was covering up a crime.”
A knock came on Ember’s door. It opened, and Beefy stood awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. He glanced at Ember and said awkwardly, “The engineers will be here soon, on vehicles that can get through snow. Several detectives are with them as they can’t get here otherwise, so when they arrive, you’ll be under their protection. There’ll be an extra stop near the police station.”
“Thanks,” Ember said. She looked out of the window and, rather than scared, seemed almost serene. Grant’s death had brought her peace.
Beefy shuffled in and reached out his big hand as if to touch Ember on the shoulder. When Ember flinched and pulled back, he whipped his hand away. “Oh God, sorry. I don’t know any details, obviously. But I’m sorry he did that to you.”
“Thank you,” Ember said, looking startled.
“If anyone ever touched my daughters or wife, I’d, well, I’d want to kill them too.”
“Everyone’s a daughter,” Ember said.
“And it’s not just daughters,” Roz added.
“Sure, right,” Beefy said, as if assimilating. “Every day’s a school day.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
After making sure that Ember was set up with coffee and snacks, Roz went around to talk to everyone. Most people were shocked at what mild-mannered Ember had done, but the more Roz explained, the more it made sense. The marble colors mixed and they saw different patterns.
Her penultimate visit was to Phil and Sally’s family. From inside, she could hear snoring, Buddy’s mumbles, a game of Snap, the sound of a ladder moving, and then a thump as someone jumped onto the floor.
Roz knocked on the door and Liv opened it. Her eyes were as red as Ember’s coat. On the top bunk, Aidan sat cross-legged, carrying on the game by himself. “Snap!” he called out, gathering the cards. The door into the adjoining room was ajar, and Roz could just see Sally’s snoring face, straggly hair half covering her open mouth.
“I was wondering if I could have a word?” Roz asked Liv.
Liv nodded. She didn’t seem surprised. Relieved, if anything.
“I’ll give you a word,” Aidan said. “Snap!” He thumped another card down on the pack.
“Snap!” echoed Robert from the top bunk of the other room. He then laughed that gorgeous, rolling toddler chuckle.
A bleary-eyed Phil was with him, a protective hand keeping Buddy from toddling off the edge. “Can I help you, Roz? Shocking news about Ember, isn’t it? You did well not to get killed up on the mountain.”
“I’m glad to be back down,” Roz said, half meaning it. “Can I have a chat with Liv?”
“I’ll come with you,” Phil said, swooping Buddy into his arms.
“It’s all right, Dad. I can do this by myself.”
Phil looked from Liv to Roz, then back to Liv. “You sure?”
“Let’s go outside,” Liv said to Roz, zipping up her coat and pulling up her hood.
They went to the ravine side of the train. The snow was now the barely there, snow-mote kind that could still bite. Beinn Dòrain was glowing, reflecting the reddening sky. “If anyone asks what we were talking about out here…” Roz said, looking over to the club car. It paid to be cautious. “Say I was giving you tips on how to do this.” Roz took her Mirror Cube out of her pocket. She clicked it a few times, then handed it over to Liv.
Liv shifted the cube around and got into a rhythm of clicking.
“Now is the time to tell me the truth,” Roz said.
Liv’s face closed off. The shutters pulled down. She clicked the cube faster and faster.
“Don’t know what you mean.”
“I know it was you.”
Liv started shaking. She stared into the cube as if seeing the fractured versions of herself could help. “How?” she asked in the smallest of voices.
“I knew instinctively there was something wrong with Ember killing both Grant and Beck, and I knew you were hiding something, but I didn’t know for sure until I was talking to Ember.”
Liv pulled back, tears forming in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me you were the real culprit. There were inconsistencies in her story though. She said that Beck had seen her when she crushed the peanuts in her room, but why would she carry out part of a premeditated murder with the door open? Why not just say Beck saw her tamper with the bottle, if she was trying to divert attention from something else? Then she said she’d only meant to borrow Meg’s scissors from her bag to cut a thread on her dress, but that didn’t seem plausible. Why not ask? Then I wondered if, in fact, she’d stolen them, but that wasn’t in her character, which in turn made me find out from Laz that you’d been caught shoplifting many times. You did, after all, have Meg’s pen. Maybe she didn’t give it to you at all. Maybe you took a few trinkets from Meg’s bag, including the pen and the scissors.”
Liv looked down at the snow but said nothing.
“And then there was that moment in your interview, when you said that Grant didn’t like it when people pulled away. You covered it well, by saying you’d seen him get angry with Meg, but you meant you, didn’t you?”
Liv nodded. Her clicking of the cube was slowing.
“But the final thing that made it clear was when Ember said she had ‘to speak out at last. To stop other young women from suffering because of him.’ That seemed strange, seeing as he’s dead and won’t attack ever again. That’s when I wondered who she would be covering for and remembered you both together so much, talking. Of pulling away from him and wearing a big hoodie, then a coat, even before the heating broke down. Ember was the same, and so was I. For years after I was raped, if I wasn’t wearing my police uniform, I wore oversized jumpers, to cover my body. Not all those who are raped do, but I’ve seen it a lot. And I understand.”
Liv broke down then, sinking into the snow. The Mirror Cube fell from her hands, and her thin shoulders shook.
“May I hold you?” Roz asked gently.
Liv nodded. Roz crouched down, and they both shivered together.
“I’m not going to say anything to the police,” Roz said, “unless you want me to. And I’m not recording anything. I will support Ember’s story if that’s what you both want. I’ll also say though, that if you wanted to tell the police about what he did to you, even if you kept the rest secret, it would help Ember’s case.”
“But would it help me?” Liv’s eyes were as full of fear as they were of tears.
Roz thought of the number of people who’d come to the station to say they’d been raped or assaulted. Of being with them in the rape suite. Hearing their stories and holding their hands if it helped, not touching them if that was what they wanted. Men. Women. Non-binary people. Trans and cis. Straight, gay, bi, pan, asexual. Attacked by partners, relatives, or close friends, acquaintances or strangers. So, so many stories of bodies and souls torn. And how many of them saw the rapist end up in prison?
In her last case, a young woman had been raped in a nightclub and Roz had done everything she could to get evidence for a conviction. She’d stayed on as a Met detective, at the expense of delaying going up to Scotland to her pregnant daughter, in order to still be in active service as an officer, while testifying in court. And the rapist had been found innocent. Roz could still hear the young woman’s sobs as the verdict was read out, and the rapist’s laugh as he left the courtroom a free man. “I wish I could say it would,” Roz said.
“Aren’t you breaking the law by not saying what you know?” Liv asked.
“I am aiding, I am abetting, I am concealing evidence. Yes, I am breaking the law.”
“Why would you help me?”
Roz took a breath of air so cold that it seemed to cut through the thing that stopped her talking. “I was raped. I know what it does to you. And I don’t see why someone as young as you should have their life further ruined by prison.”
