Page 143 of Dissection of a Murder
Leila
Four weeks after trial
“Could the remainingpassengers for Qantas flight QA13 please make their way to the boarding gate immediately?”
It’s happening. It’s really happening.
Usually, on a Wednesday morning at 6 a.m., I’m dashing around trying to get ready for whatever case I have that day.
Instead, I’m at Manchester Airport with Jack, holding an oversized Toblerone. In twenty-four hours, I’ll be in Sydney. It’s currently summer in Australia, and we’ve booked an apartment for a month not far from the beach.
My professional qualifications should expedite any visa application, and Jack just wants to get as far away from the UK as possible.
I brought Jack’s old phone with me on this trip, and I intend to dispose of it in Australia. It’s the one thing that still links me to the case. It didn’t take much for Quinn to crack, and I hear he confessed to his part in Lewis’s death shortly after Jack’s trial. Obviously, he painted it as an act of bravado gone wrong, and the prosecution accepted a plea of manslaughter. He’ll have glittering mitigation and be out of prison in a few years.
It’s not justice in the way Eddie and Daniella know—is it ever, for parents who lose a child in such a cruel and senseless way?
Quinn also admitted to placing a tracker on my car, which surprised me. I’d assumed it was Elise. He’d been keeping tabs on me so he could scare me away from delving into his involvement with Jack. He obviously didn’t understand who he was dealing with.
“You ready, then?” Jack says, towering above me wearing a black T-shirt and shorts. He’s already dressing for Aussie weather, it seems. I like it.
“No turning back now!”
He takes my hand (the one not occupied by said enormous Toblerone) and we walk to the gate. There are a few passengers ahead of us getting their documents checked before walking down the tunnel toward the plane.
“Look, I need to tell you something,” Jack says, turning to me.
“What is it?” I ask, immediately searching for a threat. Even now, I can’t stop being on high alert. I know Elise is dead, but the feeling of her closing in lingers. Her body still hasn’t been found, but I’m certain there’s nothing linking her to me that the river wouldn’t have washed away.
He pauses before squeezing my hand.
“I’ve never been on a plane this big before,” he says, looking embarrassed. “Can I have the window seat?”
Laughing, I lean up and kiss his cheek. Tell myself to relax.
“Of course! But you’re not allowed to fall asleep the entire flight. I need someone to talk to.”
The people in front of us take ages, so I start to look around the airport lounge.
In the distance, I see a police officer walking quickly, talking into his radio. People move out of the way for him, watching as he passes. I continue to stand in line and turn to face forward, gripping Jack’s hand a little tighter. Remind myself that I tied up all loose ends. That they have not come for me.
After a few seconds, I look back, and the police officer is nearer now. Behind him are another three—all running. Turning the other way, I see more officers and men in suits heading toward our gate.
Except they’re not just normal men in suits. They’re detectives.
The flurry of activity is too obvious to ignore now. People around us are craning their heads, asking what’s going on.
They’re here for someone else. You need to relax.
They get closer and closer on both sides, and Jack eventually spots what’s happening. He turns to me with fear in his eyes, the same fear I saw every day at court. I realize, then, that my first instinct was right.
They have come for me.
I know I only have seconds now. I take Jack’s face in my hands and look directly into his eyes.
“Tell them everything,” I demand. “The whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I love you.”
By the time I drop my hands, we are surrounded by police officers. They shove Jack out of the way. He is grabbing for me, shouting, but I remain still. I know what’s to come.
