for you? I suppose you prefer your corruption to be nice and safe.”
“Stop this,” he said desperately. “I didn’t hide the statement because I didn’t know about it.”
She looked at him derisively. “You can do better than that. Constable Dutton handed it to you himself.”
“Maybe he did. I don’t know. I only know that I have no recollection of it.”
“And I suppose you have no recollection of scribbling something on it? It was your handwriting.”
“Yes, but—”
“And the way it got conveniently lost—hidden away in a file belonging to another case. I suppose you have ‘no recollection’ of that, either?”
“None at all. When it was found in that file I was as amazed as anybody, I swear it.”
She actually smiled with incredulity that he should try to fool her with such a feeble story. “I don’t know why you came here, but you’re wasting your time,” she said firmly.
“I came because I have to know the truth.”
“Has the truth suddenly become important to you after all this time?” she asked sarcastically. “What use is it to tell you the truth? You don’t believe it when you hear it. You really came because you want me to confess, then you’d feel all right, wouldn’t you? And the force might take you back.”
“It wouldn’t make me feel all right to know you’re guilty,” he said harshly. “That would mean I’d made my case so clumsily that a murderess was freed too soon. Did I do that? Or did I jail an innocent woman? Either way, it’s just as bad.”
“Your arrogance is beyond belief,” she snapped. “‘Just as bad’? It may make no difference to you which way it turns out, but what about me? I don’t matter, do I? To you I’m just part of an academic exercise in finding out which way your guilt lies. But I’m not. I’m a human being, and you’ve ruined my life. I didn’t kill anyone, but because you made it look as if I did, they took my son away. Because of you I can’t get to see him, even now. If my ex-husband has his way, I’ll never see him again, and it’s all because of you.”
Her voice rose to a scream as her nerves finally snapped, and she flew at him. For three dreary years she’d longed to inflict on him a fraction of the pain he’d caused her, and now he was here. She lashed out blindly, striking, clawing at his face, driven by uncontrollable fury.
Daniel backed up, raising his hands as a shield. What he saw in her face appalled him. Through his job he was used to witnessing despair and misery, but this was worse. It was as though Megan was too demented with anguish to know what she did. Some instinct made him stop trying to push her away and pull her against him, tightening his arms around her so that she was trapped. “Let me go,” she screamed.
“I will when you stop trying to attack me,” he said, speaking breathlessly for she was still thrashing about. “I just want us to talk.”
“The only words I want to say to you are words of hate,” Megan snapped. “Is that clear enough?”
But she was too exhausted to keep it up. The roller coaster was at work again, carrying her to the peak of rage only to plunge her back down into the depths. Suddenly she went limp in his arms and started to shake, not with anger but with grief. Daniel felt the violent trembling of her body against his own and it went through him like a pain. He knew what it was like to suffer like that, to curse heaven in bitterness and misery, and realize that cursing changed nothing. The loved one had gone, and the world was still a dark, barren place to be endured.
Sounds were coming from her, not weeping, but a kind of half-gasping moan, like the keening of a distraught animal. And again his own experience showed him the answer. That sensation of being an animal, feeling the loss of one’s young like an agony in the flesh. How well he knew it. He was a man with a bitter sense of irony, and it wasn’t lost on him that, of all the world, he was the best placed to empathize with her, yet there was no one whose help she wanted less. But then irony fled and he felt nothing but an overwhelming desire to calm her storm of grief. “Megan,” he pleaded. “Megan...let me help you....”
She grew still and he thought he’d gotten through to her. “It’s cold in here,” he said. “Haven’t you got a dressing gown? And something to put on your feet?”
“When you’ve gone, I’m going to bed,” she said tiredly. “I wish you’d leave now. Just go, and I’ll be all right.”
He realized that he hadn’t gotten through, after all. She was simply too tired to argue anymore. “How can I walk away and leave you like this?” he demanded.
“The same way you walked away and left me in prison. I’m not your problem.” She pushed against him and he reluctantly freed her. “Please go.”
“Look—”
“Go.” She went to the door and pulled it open. “Go away now, and don’t come back.”
Her head was turned toward him, so she didn’t see what was outside the door. She saw only the sudden look of tension on his face, and when she turned, it was too late. The little crowd of men and women surged into her room, all babbling at once and taking pictures, blinding them both with flashbulbs.
“Mrs. Anderson have you anything to say?”
“...I’m authorized to offer you.”
“...exclusive...”
“Why aren’t the police looking for someone else?”
“Your story...if you’d only—”
“Go away,” she screamed. “Go away and leave me alone!”
Instead of leaving, they pressed in on her further, forcing her to back away from them. But she suddenly stopped and plunged forward between them, forcing them to part. By the time they’d recovered from their surprise, she was out the door and racing down the stairs toward the front door. They raced after her, baying like hounds in pursuit.
Daniel hesitated, torn between two opposing instincts. He wanted to intervene and get them off her track, but if they recognized him, they’d have an even better story, one that would make them pursue her even more mercilessly. At last he followed them down and out into the street and saw that Megan had vanished. The pack poured into their vehicles and tore off in pursuit. He gave them a moment to get clear before going to his own car. He didn’t think he’d have far to look for her. She was bound to be hiding nearby.
But an hour of combing the streets produced nothing. He checked her apartment in case she’d returned, but all he found was a journalist who’d had the same idea and looked set to wait out the night.
Cursing, Daniel got back into his car and began the search again. But it was useless, and at last he had to face the fact that Megan had vanished into the pouring rain wearing only a thin nightgown and nothing on her feet.
Two
Megan didn’t stop running until she was out of breath. She clutched something nearby and stood there heaving, trying to fight off a pain in her side. Gradually her head
