The Perfect Couple. Jackie Kabler

Clarke was talking again, quietly, his tone soothing.

      ‘Gemma, we know all this is a lot to take in. I need to explain something to you, and it’s going to be worrying, OK, but I don’t want you to panic, because we don’t know anything for definite, right? It’s just one avenue we’re going down, just something we’re looking into. So just stay calm, OK? Take a deep breath.’

      I tried to do as he’d asked, but my breath caught in my chest, jagged and painful. I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus.

      ‘I’m OK. Just tell me, please, whatever it is. I’m having a hard time trying to process all this … the job, the bank account stuff, and now this website … it’s just making no sense. None.’

      The DS grimaced.

      ‘Trust me, we’re struggling almost as much as you must be. OK, so this is our concern. Have you heard about the two recent murders in the Clifton area? One about a month ago, one last week? Two young men?’

      I frowned, trying to think, my mind blank. I hadn’t watched the television news in weeks, and I rarely checked the online news sites anymore. I shook my head.

      ‘No, sorry. I don’t keep up with the news as religiously as I used to – I used to be a news reporter, but it just makes me anxious now, with all the horrible things going on in the world. And we’ve been so busy, since we moved in …’ I gasped, as my brain finally took in what he’d said, and what it might mean. ‘Hang on – two murders? Men? Do you think Danny’s been murdered?’

      The shivering had started again, my hands suddenly freezing cold.

       No. Please, no.

      DS Clarke was shaking his head.

      ‘No, look, honestly, it’s just a theory, a possibility. We’ve just discovered that the two men who died, who were killed, were both users of this EHU app. That could just be a coincidence, we have nothing concrete to link the two murders at the moment, other than a few vague similarities between the two crime scenes. But …’

      He was fumbling inside a flap at the back of his notebook, pulling out two photographs. He held them up. They were pictures of two men, both maybe early thirties, both with dark hair, dark eyes. I stared, the cold creeping up into my chest now, and then dragged my eyes back to the tablet, to Danny’s face.

      ‘Is that them?’ My voice was barely a whisper.

      ‘Yes. Do you see why I’m showing you these?’ DS Clarke’s voice was low too, compassionate. ‘It’s because they look … well, they all look quite similar, don’t they?’ he said. ‘A certain … well, a certain type, I suppose. And when we saw the photo you gave us, of your husband, well, we noticed the resemblance immediately. So, even though it was a long shot, we thought we’d just check, just in case. Check the website I mean, to see if Danny might be registered too. To see if it might be more than a coincidence. And, as you can see …’ He gestured towards the photo of Danny on the screen.

      I swallowed again. My throat felt as if it were closing up, as if, if they told me anything else, piled any more of this incomprehensible information into my brain, I might actually stop breathing.

      ‘Hang on, so you think … you think that somebody might be killing men who use this app? Men who look like that … who look like Danny? And two have been killed already, and now Danny’s gone missing, and you think that he might … might have been killed too? Why though? Why would somebody do that?’

      DS Clarke was shaking his head, splaying his hands in a vague gesture I somehow interpreted as who knows?

      ‘As I said, we just don’t know. We have no proof, no evidence. And, of course, no third body. Danny is, we hope, still alive and well and out there somewhere. But it’s a possibility, that’s all. It’s not something we’d normally … well, normally I wouldn’t worry the family with something like this. But this is such an unusual case, and we thought that maybe, if you knew, you might be able to shed some light …’ He sighed. ‘I’m so sorry. Don’t dwell on it, please. There’s every chance your husband will still turn up. And until we can find anything that says otherwise, we have to assume he hasn’t come to any harm, OK? But, just to confirm …’ he pointed a finger at DC Stevens’s tablet, now closed and resting on his knee, ‘you didn’t know, then? That he had a profile on that site?’

      He had the good grace to look a little sheepish as he asked the question, not quite meeting my eye. DC Stevens was staring at his own shoes.

      I took a breath.

      ‘No, I did not know that my husband had a profile on a dating website,’ I said, with as much dignity as I could muster. Of course I didn’t bloody know. What’s going on, Danny? What the hell is going on? ‘And I don’t understand it, any of it. Danny wasn’t … wasn’t shagging around, I’m sure he wasn’t.’

      Even as I said the words, I felt new doubts creeping in. Were you, Danny? Were you? But I couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t let myself.

      ‘Look, maybe somebody else put his profile on there. One of his mates? For some sort of silly joke? Danny probably doesn’t even know his picture is on there,’ I said.

      The two police officers exchanged looks again, and both nodded.

      ‘That’s true, it certainly could have happened like that,’ DC Stevens said.

      ‘I suppose so, yes. Certainly a possibility. This case gets curiouser and curiouser,’ DS Clarke replied unexpectedly, then stood up abruptly.

      ‘Right, we’ll get out of your way. I’m sorry, again, that we’ve had to land all this on you. But we’re a little bit stuck on this one, Gemma, I don’t mind telling you. We simply can’t work out what’s happened to Danny, and what was going on in his life in the weeks before he vanished. The job, his bank account, this app … look, if you can think of anything, anything at all, that might explain some of it, please call, OK? Any time. And maybe, can I suggest, get someone to come and stay with you for a few days? A friend, a relative? It’s a lot to cope with on your own.’

      Still a little stunned by his Alice in Wonderland reference, I gaped up at him. DC Stevens was on his feet now too, shuffling towards the door, seemingly anxious to leave now that he’d thrown a live grenade into my living room and let it explode, leaving me to deal with the agonizing aftermath. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

      ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think I might do that.’