8

MARIAH

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I take a deep breath before beginning my prepared speech.

‘I know you have all suffered a terrible shock, and I deeply regret that you had to see such an awful sight on your way into work that terrible morning,’ I say as I look across the faces of my employees, all of whom are hanging on my every word. But their interest has nothing to do with my ability to hold their attention as a charismatic leader and more so to do with them all eager to hear what I, the grieving widow, am about to say to them.

‘As has been made clear to you ever since that day, there are support services available to any of you who feel you need it,’ I go on. ‘If so, simply speak to our Human Resources team, and they will get you all the assistance you need, for however long you need it.’

It’s important I clarify that point, which backs up the multitude of emails that the HR team have sent out since the dead bodies were discovered, because the last thing any of us needs is to be sued for failure to support our staff. There are bound to be some people here who are traumatised by what they saw, some who have suffered with nightmares or sleepless nights since, and that is why I would prefer that they seek professional help rather than find solace in substance abuse or by filing legal cases against my company.

With that important part covered, it’s on to what I assume most people here want to hear me talk about.

‘Just like you, I was shocked and appalled to learn what had happened to two of our beloved colleagues,’ I go on, as everybody gawks at me. ‘Nat was a valued member of our team, and, of course, Michael was a great leader of that team.’

I pause for dramatic effect then.

‘As you all know, he was also my husband, which has made this particularly hard for me to process...’

My voice drifts off, before somebody rushes forward and hands me a tissue. I dry my eyes as I feel their hand on my shoulder before forcing myself to continue.

‘As you also know, the police have been conducting their investigation, and it was imperative that we didn’t speculate about what happened to Michael and Nat until that investigation was complete. None of us wanted to get in the way of the truth, and I am proud that we all did our best to cooperate with them so they could do their jobs.’

As I say that, my mind is filled with the images of the police officers swarming over this office, searching desks, speaking with staff who looked as nervous as rabbits in headlights, and trying to ascertain if somebody here was responsible for the murders.

‘Unfortunately, despite everybody’s best efforts, the exact events that led to their deaths remain a mystery, meaning Michael and Nat’s killer is still at large.’

I pause again, not that I need to because those words are heavy enough without adding weight to them.

‘But I want to assure everybody here that this is a safe workplace, and neither the police, nor I, see any risk to any of you, so please don’t worry about anything like this happening again. I promise you, this is over now.’

I want to leave it there, but somebody in the crowd speaks up, presumably on behalf of everyone else here.

‘So what actually happened?’ they ask, and everybody else nods as if desperate to know too. Everybody but Brenda, who I notice is just very, very still.

‘The police’s best guess is that somebody broke into this office to steal something but was interrupted by Michael and Nat being here. So they panicked and drugged them and...’

I purposely allow my voice to drift off, as I’m struggling to control my emotions if I keep speaking.

‘But...’ somebody else interrupts before hesitating slightly. ‘They were found naked.’

Now everyone wants to hear my response to that, so I better have a good one.

‘I don’t want to speculate about things that none of us were witness to,’ I try, but I have a feeling that is not going to be good enough, so I try again. ‘But unfortunately, it’s possible Michael and Nat were conducting a relationship that none of us here knew about. Most of all, me.’

I figure everybody here has already assumed that Michael and Nat were having an affair, but at least I have made it clear that I was as clueless as they were about that affair. Or at least I have pretended to.

Before I can be asked any more questions, I decide it is best to leave the rest of this in the hands of my HR Manager, so I turn and walk back to my office. As I do, I hear a barrage of enquiries being fired in her direction, as I suspected they would be because I’ve hardly cleared everything up for them. Questions like:

‘But what exactly happened to them?’

‘How can the killer not have been caught?’

‘Somebody must know something, right?’

I can’t wait to get into my office and close the door and when I do, the incessant chattering recedes into the background, and I can breathe a sigh of relief. As I take a seat at my desk, I remind myself that the questions will die down in time. It’s still early, only a few weeks since Michael and Nat’s bodies were found, and while Christmas has come and gone and a new year has begun, this is obviously something that is going to dominate the conversation around here for a while yet. But people will move on because that’s what they do. Something else will happen to spark some office gossip eventually, perhaps not something quite as dramatic as two dead bodies underneath a Christmas tree, but there will undoubtedly be something to give them all another thing to talk about soon. Like whether or not the next round of pay rises are fair, or if there will be another bonus this year, or who is going to take over from Michael to help me run this business?

It’s that latter issue that I need to address, and I’ve already got a few candidates lined up. But it’s not been easy to do, given the police investigation taking up so much of my time. There were so many questions to answer from them, questions that were far more probing than the ones any of my employees could fire at me.

Question: ‘When was the last time you saw your husband?’

Answer: ‘When I left the office to go home on the Friday night. Michael told me he was staying back to work late.’

Question: ‘Did you know Nat was going to be staying late too?’

Answer: ‘No, I didn’t.’

Question: ‘At what time did you think something was wrong?’

Answer: ‘I didn’t. Michael text me to say he still had lots to do and was going to sleep at the office. He had done that before.’

Question: ‘So at what point over the weekend did you start to worry?’

Answer: ‘I didn’t. Michael was a workaholic. I presumed he was okay because he kept texting me to say he was.’

Question: ‘Why weren’t there any cameras in reception? Or anywhere else in the office?’

Answer: ‘We’re not a bank. We never thought we needed them.’

Question: ‘So the first time you knew something was wrong was when you arrived at work on the Monday morning?’

Answer: ‘Correct.’

Question: ‘Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt your husband or Nat.’

Answer: ‘No.’

Question: ‘Why do you think Michael and Nat were found naked?’

Answer: ‘No idea.’

Question: ‘Could they have been having an affair?’

Answer: ‘An affair. Oh, my gosh, no, I don’t think so.’

So it went on. Lots of questions and lots of answers, over multiple days, before finally, the police stopped pestering me. They stopped because there is nothing they can do to link me to the murders. No evidence that I killed the pair. I used my access card to swipe out on Friday while they were both still alive, and as far as they can see, I didn’t use it again until Monday morning, when they were already dead.

They don’t need to know that I have a way to access the building without using my card.

As for the text messages that were sent between mine and my husband’s phones, the messages the police have seen and used to determine I am innocent, they were easy to fabricate. All I needed was access to my husband’s phone, and I had that as soon as I had dealt with him.

I leave my desk because focusing on work feels impossible at this time and decide to seek solace in the fridge, where my husband so often sought his. I open it up and take out the bottle of wine inside before pouring myself a glass. If any of my employees catch me, I doubt they will begrudge me of this. Not after what I have been through.

Unless it’s Brenda, because she might see this for what it really is.

I’m not having a drink because I’m depressed, or stressed, or need a quick way to relax.

I’m having a drink because I’m toasting to a job well done.

As I savour the white wine in my glass, I think about the wine my husband consumed on the night he died. It’s the same wine he would have shared with Nat, and because I had a feeling they were both ‘working late’ in the office together, I made an addition to that bottle my husband kept in the fridge. I unscrewed the lid, added the poison and then put it back.

The poison was something I had always kept in case of emergencies. A friend had told me about how to acquire it many years ago, a friend who was also a work colleague, and she had deployed it herself when she had discovered her own partner cheating. I never thought I’d actually have to use the poison that Kirsty told me about many years ago. I didn’t think Michael would have an affair. But then I saw those photos and I felt the same anger Kirsty had felt in her own life shortly before she killed her cheating partner and made it look like a heart attack. That’s when I decided to use the same poison too.

All Michael and Nat had to do was not drink it. If they were working, doing their jobs and being professional, they would be fine. But if they were using the office to carry out their illicit affair, and adding a little alcohol into the equation to spice it up, then they would suffer the consequences.

The consequences won.

The pair must have drunk the wine and been having a little ‘fun’ downstairs in the reception area. That’s where I found their naked, poisoned bodies when I snuck back into the office hours later. I could have left them where they lay, but I was wearing gloves thanks to the frigid weather outside, so I dragged them underneath the tree and left them there instead. A little dramatic, perhaps, but it certainly filled me with some Christmas cheer.

I killed my cheating husband and my cheating employee, and so far, I have gotten away with it. But will I continue to do so?

I’m confident, except for one thing. One person in this office knows what the police, and everybody else, do not. One person told me about the affair while Michael and Nat were still alive. That person seems to be keeping that fact to themselves.

But for how long?

It’s time to find out.

It’s time to give my Secret Santa something in return.