‘What do you know about the attack on Jack McKenna?’ Wood said.

Macdonald shot him a look.

‘Nothing,’ Ellie said.

‘Were you anywhere near Inchcolm Terrace two days ago?’

Ellie shook her head. She wondered about CCTV, Neighbourhood Watch, if there was evidence. She had been all over that place, if they could just find out. It was only a matter of time, surely, but the fact they were asking meant they didn’t have anything yet.

‘Can you account for your activities that day?’

Ellie thought. Closed her eyes, opened them, stared out the window at the weeds. ‘I went for a walk.’

‘A walk?’ Wood’s voice sounded like he’d just been personally insulted.

Ellie nodded.

‘Whereabouts?’

‘I don’t know exactly,’ Ellie said.

‘Do you go on walks often?’

‘All the time. It’s what I do now, walk for miles, go running, swimming. It’s how I cope without Logan. I walk all over the Ferry, beyond as well, out to Hopetoun House or Dalmeny, even to Crammond.’

‘You walk to Crammond?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Did you walk to Crammond on Monday?’

‘No.’

‘Then where?’

‘I don’t remember,’ Ellie said. ‘I go all over the place, I can’t remember specifics.’

‘Did anyone see you on this mysterious walk?’

‘Plenty of people,’ Ellie said. ‘But no one I know, I don’t think.’

‘Very handy.’

Macdonald butted in. ‘Look, I understand you’re dealing with a lot. But you can’t turn up at strangers’ doors, making accusations and getting them upset.’

‘I didn’t make any accusations.’

‘Mrs McKenna insists that you did,’ Wood snarled.

Ellie thought about how the police had found her. She’d given Alison a false name, but it wasn’t exactly hard. She’d mentioned Logan jumping off the bridge, that was in the local paper, she would’ve been named in that. Easy to find the address. What must they have thought when they realised she lived fifty yards along the road from the station? Nice easy job for the officers.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ellie said. ‘I shouldn’t have gone to see her. But I was confused, that’s all. I don’t know why I did it.’ Tears were really flowing now. Was she putting it on for them, or really crying? She wasn’t sure any more. It didn’t make any difference.

‘It’s OK,’ Macdonald said.

Ellie heard Wood snort derisively. She didn’t blame him. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her cheeks, her nose. Sniffed loudly.

‘Can I go?’ she said.

Wood was shaking his head, but Macdonald had a soft look on her face.

Ellie thought about fingerprints. They were all over the house, but then she’d been there to talk to Alison, surely that was her cover. If anyone saw her the day Jack was stabbed, that was different. And if the police checked her phone records they would know about her and Sam. The phone was in her pocket now, hot against her thigh. She imagined it buzzing with a message from him.

‘You can go for now,’ Macdonald said. ‘But we might well be back in touch, depending on our enquiries.’

Wood leaned forward, trying his best to be intimidating. ‘And we’ll definitely be in touch if you go near the McKennas again. Got it?’

Ellie nodded. ‘I understand.’

She got up, her legs weak, and headed for the door, wondering where Sam was and when she could see him next.

27

Ellie was on Rose Lane trying to get herself together when a car pulled up ahead of her. She recognised it straight away, the silver BMW from the driveway in Inchcolm Terrace. She stared at the brake lights as the passenger-side window buzzed down, then she stepped forward and bent over to look in.

Jack McKenna.

‘Can we talk?’

Ellie looked behind her. The police station was round the corner, he must’ve been waiting for her to come out.

‘I’ve nothing to say to you,’ she said.

‘Please.’

He was leaning forward, clutching his side. She could see under his Hugo Boss T-shirt where it was thick with bandages. How was he out of hospital so soon?

Ellie felt her house key in her pocket, thought of Ben waiting at home for an explanation. She thought of Sam in the boat, Libby at school hoping beyond hope this man wouldn’t get out of hospital any time soon. Yet here he was, wheezing and grimacing in pain.

Ellie shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

Jack nodded at the passenger door. ‘It’s for the best, for Sam and Libby. For everyone.’

His skin was pale, dark rings under his eyes. His black hair was greying at the temples like Ben’s, but closer cut, neatly shaved round the back and sides. He looked smaller than when she’d seen him in hospital, smaller than when she’d found him on his kitchen floor.

In her pocket she pushed the house key between her fingers and made a fist, a makeshift knuckleduster. She pulled the door open and got in. She looked in his eyes for a moment, but couldn’t see anything there. She imagined sticking the knuckleduster in his face, blood spurting out. He smelt of hospitals, antiseptic and bleach, and she could smell his sweat underneath.

She pulled the door closed and put her seatbelt on.

He put the car into gear and drove to the car park at the end of the road, did a three-point turn and headed back. He turned right at the junction and for a moment she thought he was going to take Shore Road to the marina, but instead he turned along Hopetoun Road heading out of town.

He was clearly in pain, his movements slow and tentative. She couldn’t imagine him overpowering her, one quick punch to his bandaged side would double him over.

They picked up speed as they left the Ferry, the road bending towards the coast beyond the marina, flowing with the contours of the land where it met the sea.

Was that the face of a child abuser, someone who could rape his own daughter? She remembered Libby telling her what he’d done, and her fists tightened in her pockets.

They drove over a makeshift crossing, a workman in a hardhat and hi-vis jacket leaning on a STOP/GO sign. Muddy tracks to their left, the building site for the new bridge on the right. This was where the approach road was going to go, through the fields and woods, stretching out over the water.

Jack kept driving. Ellie could see Rosyth docks and the naval base across the firth. The road widened and there were thick gravel verges on either side. Jack pulled in sharply and stopped, pushed the handbrake button. Ellie tensed her muscles, ready.

Jack looked out over the water and pulled his hand down his face as if he was trying to wipe it clean. The engine was still running.

‘I saw you,’ Jack said. He was still looking out the window, away from her.

Ellie stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I saw you in my house.’ He turned to her. ‘In the kitchen, when I was lying there. You spoke to me, said something about Sam. Right?’

Ellie tried to remember exactly what she’d said.

‘You went out the patio door.’ His face was drawn, exhausted. ‘When Alison came home.’

Ellie shook her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Come on, no lies.’ Jack looked beaten by the world, so tired.

Ellie didn’t move or speak. Jack pushed himself up in his seat a little, gave a grunt of pain.

‘I’m not supposed to speak to you,’ he said. ‘Macdonald and Wood are handling the case. I’m meant to be at home resting. By the time I got out of hospital, Alison had already talked to them about you. If she’d asked me, I would’ve told her not to.’ He shook his head. ‘You know, I could have forensics check those patio doors. But I don’t think it’s in either of our interests for that to happen, do you?’

He squinted, brushed at something on the steering wheel.

‘I’m sure we both want what’s best for Sam,’ he said. ‘And Libby.’

‘Do we?’

Jack turned and frowned. ‘I’m not quite sure how you’re involved.’