Cruel Acts. Jane Casey

through everything. They couldn’t find anything in Sara’s life that would have made someone want to harm her.’

      He led us into a room that should have been a bedroom but it had no furniture in it. Boxes piled on top of boxes filled the space instead. The room smelled musty and he pushed open the window.

      ‘She’d moved out, you see. There was nothing here. All her things were in our flat. I kept everything for a long time. I didn’t want to clear Sara out of my life, I suppose. But in the end I had to. She wasn’t coming back. Barbara – that’s Dr Grey – didn’t want to unpack it so it ended up here.’ He stood in the middle of the room and looked around, his posture somehow conveying bafflement and longstanding grief. ‘Not much, is there? Not for a whole life.’

      I felt unexpectedly sorry for him, and angry with myself for my reverse snobbishness. Bad things could happen to wealthy, privileged men who wore Ralph Lauren cashmere jumpers and inherited signet rings, the crest softened and blurred by time. Life wasn’t easy for anyone who mourned, whether they were rich or poor.

      ‘What do you think happened to her?’ I asked, taking advantage of the fact that the door was closed.

      ‘She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ He rubbed his head with his left hand and winced. ‘I keep forgetting I’ve got a ring on this hand and end up battering myself.’

      ‘Recent addition?’ Derwent asked.

      ‘I got married a couple of months ago.’

      ‘Congratulations.’

      ‘I felt weird about it. The Greys said they understood, but—’ he broke off. ‘Oh, you know. It shouldn’t have been this way. It should have been Sara.’

      ‘Is that how you felt?’

      ‘A bit.’ He looked miserable. ‘A lot. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.’

      ‘What does your missus make of that?’ Derwent asked, and I was glad he had, because I was wondering the same thing.

      ‘She understands of course.’ He held himself stiffly, guarded now. ‘She was one of Sara’s best friends. It helps that she knew her so well. We talk about Sara a lot. She misses her too.’

      ‘I’m sure she does,’ I said.

      ‘Vanessa was supposed to be our bridesmaid.’ Tom sighed. ‘I’m lucky to have her.’

      We got back into the car after a long and thoroughly unhelpful search through Sara Grey’s possessions – the clothes, the photographs, the school reports and letters, and books she had loved. The Greys had sent us on our way without warmth, just as angry as they had been when we arrived, despite my best efforts.

      Derwent drove out through the gate with a sigh of relief.

      ‘They really don’t want Leo to be guilty, do they?’

      ‘Nope.’

      ‘They must see something in him that I don’t.’

      ‘The son has obviously worked hard on them. Plus the original investigation burned through any goodwill there might have been towards us by focusing on Tom.’ I shook my head. ‘Maybe it’s just that they don’t feel any better for having Leo locked up. It hasn’t brought their daughter back. If he’s the wrong man, they can keep looking for justice.’

      Derwent nodded. ‘So how long would you give Tom Mitchell’s new marriage?’

      ‘Months.’

      ‘Weeks, I’d say.’

      ‘Days.’

      ‘It’s over already.’

      ‘It never started,’ I said soberly. ‘He’s not over Sara yet. Maybe he’ll never get over her.’

      ‘Poor bloke,’ Derwent said, as if he meant it.