Chapter 51

Zelda straightens her navy cable-knit sweater and then looks at me with those big, sad eyes of hers. ‘I thought they came to arrest me for killing Frank,' she whimpers, ‘that he was the guy they found in the park. I heard it on the local news that evening, tried calling you but it kept going to voicemail.' I hate myself. I'm a rubbish sister. I should've kept my phone on for emergencies instead of switching it off for a bloody date night with Tom.

I gaze at the red polo player emblem on her jumper. ‘Fourteen quid off Vinted,' she says gently, almost as if I'm judging her for wearing designer clothes. I'm not. I wasn't. I just needed something to focus on because I couldn't look her in the eye.

‘I've let you down,' I whisper, brushing away a tear from my cheekbone with the heel of my hand. I imagine her at the police station all alone, sitting on a plastic chair beneath sharp fluorescent lights, an untouched tea in a polystyrene cup in front of her, two officers on the other side of the cheap formica desk, like vultures.

‘Don't be daft. You're not my keeper.' But I am, your keeper. I am. You're my little sister. It's my job. It's always been my job.

Blinking, I take in the length of her. She looks different somehow. Frail, thinner, slight. Is it possible to lose so much weight in a week? ‘Oh, come here.' I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her body, feeling her vertebrae against my fingers. She has lost weight.

‘They asked me to go in for a voluntary interview.' She rests her chin on my shoulder. ‘Pounding on my door as if it was some sort of drug's raid.' Pulling away, I hold her at arm's length, then curl a long strand of hair behind her ear as she goes on to say how she ended up ringing Linda because she couldn't get a hold of me, told her everything. Linda great – comforting, supportive. ‘It was a fucking nightmare, Bella.'

‘I can imagine.' I glance at my watch – 08.15 flashes up in bold white font. It'll take me forty-five minutes to get to my client in Hertfordshire. I've got an hour to spare. ‘Come on, I'll put the kettle on,' I say, and she nods, padding behind me into the kitchen. ‘Did you have a duty solicitor?' I ask over my shoulder.

‘Some bloody useless kid.' Zelda pulls out a chair at the table and flops into it, arms folded, legs apart.

‘I would've rung Sean, love,' I offer, ‘I wish you'd tried my landline.'

‘You unplugged it, remember?' Oh, yes. It's been unplugged for months. There's a fault on it. It keeps ringing randomly, waking us all up in the middle of the night. Four engineers later and we've still got the same problem. We gave up in the end and pulled it out of the socket. As Georgia pointed out, who uses their landline these days? Only last night it would've been crucial. I could've helped my sister.

‘I'll let them brew.' I flick a hand towards the two mugs on the worktop as I pull out a chair next to her and throw another glance at my watch – 08.17.

‘Gotta be somewhere?'

‘A gig in Hertfordshire.'

‘Oh, I don't want to keep you from your work.' Zelda goes to stand, but I pull her back down by the arm.

‘I've got plenty of time,' I say, even though I know I'll be cutting it fine. ‘So, what happened last night? Tell me everything.'

I listen in silence as Zelda tells me how the police turned up at her flat looking for Frank, said he'd been reported missing. ‘I told them I didn't have a clue where he was. I hadn't seen him since last Saturday. When I confessed that we'd had a bit of fight and I broke off our engagement, they looked at each other. I hated myself for saying it, for being such a stupid klutz. And then I blushed, didn't I, and they looked at each other again.' Zelda takes a deep breath. It's actually more like air hunger. ‘I thought they were going to tell me he was dead,' she exclaims. Another long breath, which she blows out through trembling lips. ‘Arrest me on suspicion of murder. The cops told me he was reported missing by Diane.'

‘Diane from Serval?' Zelda nods. ‘Why would she report him missing?'

‘They said she's his fiancée.' My eyebrows shoot up. ‘I know. The two-timing shit. They wanted to know if he'd asked me for money. Apparently, he owes Diane a substantial sum. I said the only girlfriend he talked about was his dead-ex, Nina Ivanov.' Zelda's cheeks go red. ‘God, it's hot in here. Is the heating on?'

Getting to my feet, I cross the room. ‘Mr Stanhope mentioned Diane and Nina last night. Ouch, it's hot. Georgia must've turned it up when she showered this morning and forgot to turn it off.' More like didn't bother, but I spare Zelda the details. Tom and Georgia have a turn-on-turn-off-the-heating contest daily.

‘Stanhope?'

‘He spoke to the police while we were out. They came looking for you here,' I murmur, turning the thermostat off. ‘They didn't have your new address. You really need to update your contact details, Zee.' Zelda nods, says it's on her ‘to do' list. ‘Gosh, I can't believe he was engaged to Diane. I wonder how much she lent him,' I muse, going back to the teas, and I wonder why he refused my ten grand.

‘They were meant to be going away on Wednesday.' Zelda explains as I place a cup in front of her. ‘Frank told me he'd be at a fitness conference in Newcastle for a few days. Diane started to worry when he wasn't returning her texts or answering his phone. She went round to his flat and the landlord told her she hadn't seen him all week. Diane rang the hospitals, then went to the police. She was worried, I suppose.'

‘Shit,' I mutter.

‘Anyway, Louis, a gym colleague, I met him once briefly at a pub.' I tell her I know him, nice-looking, mid-thirties, dark hair. ‘Yes, him. Well, he's the one who told the police Frank was dating a Zelda Villin. Given that Frank was reported missing by his fiancée and I was the last to see him, they asked if I'd go in for a chat. I panicked. I didn't know my rights. Linda told me I didn't have to comply but if I didn't go, depending on what information they had, they could arrest me and make me give a standard interview in custody at some point. Maybe they thought we were swindling people together, that I was in on it, or I had something to do with his disappearance. I couldn't risk it.'

I rake a hand through my hair. ‘Good job you rang Linda.'

‘She was brilliant.' We take a sip from our cups in synchronisation. ‘Anyway, I thought it was in my best interest to go to the station with them, show them I was willing to help with their inquiries, had nothing to hide. I did insist on legal representation, though. Linda told me to say that.'

I hold my chin as Zelda goes on to tell me how the police asked her question after question about her relationship with Frank – if she knew Diane Perry, or Nina Ivanov, who's very much alive, by the way. ‘On and on and on,' Zelda groans, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples. ‘In the end, they thanked me and said they'd be in touch if they needed anything else.'

‘Gosh,' I muse. ‘But why did Frank tell us Nina was dead?'

‘I wondered that too. So, when I got home last night, I googled her.'

‘And?'

‘I messaged her on Instagram. She's only his bloody wife,' Zelda admits, and my jaw almost hits the floor.