Chapter 9: What Daniel Said
He spoke for nearly twenty minutes without stopping.
I did not interrupt him.
I did not write anything down.
I kept my hands flat on the table and I watched his face the way I had learned to watch faces in rooms where a great deal of money was at stake.
He said the arrangement had begun as an affair.
He said Vanessa had approached him, not the other way around, though I noted he said this quickly and moved past it.
He said it had been going on for seven months.
He said somewhere in the fourth month, Vanessa had begun talking about the will.
"She knew the clause," he said.
"The one about the child.
She'd had a solicitor explain it to her.
She knew that if the child — if something happened to the child before your anniversary, and she was still your spouse—"
"She would inherit directly," I said.
"Yes."
"And you went along with this."
He looked at the table.
"I told her it was insane.
I told her I wanted no part of it.
But she had — she had things on me, Nathan.
Financial things.
Things from before I knew you.
She said if I didn't help her move the money, she would—"
"She blackmailed you."
"Yes."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Daniel," I said.
"You were the best man at my first wedding.
You gave a speech about loyalty.
I have known you for eleven years."
He said nothing.
"The note," I said.
"The one that says the timeline only works before the anniversary.
That's your handwriting."
"Yes."
"So you knew the plan.
You helped structure it."
"The financial part.
Only the financial part.
I swear to you, Nathan, I did not know she was going to do what she did with the stroller.
When she told me afterward, I told her it was over.
I told her I was done.
That's why she sent that message — *it didn't work* — she was angry, she was telling me it hadn't worked and I needed to—"
"To what?" I said.
"To come up with another plan?"
"No." His voice cracked slightly.
"To understand that she was going to keep going.
That she wasn't going to stop."
The pub was quiet around us.
A television in the corner showed football with the sound off.
"So you called me," I said, "because you want to cooperate with the police and you want me to know that before they tell me."
He looked up.
"I've already spoken to a solicitor," he said.
"I'm going to give a full statement.
Everything — the money, the plan, the messages.
All of it." He paused.
"I know that doesn't fix anything.
I know there's nothing I can say that makes this—" He stopped.
Pressed his fingers against his eyes for a moment.
"She was going to hurt your daughter, Nathan.
She was going to hurt a four-month-old child.
And I knew she was capable of it and I didn't go to you and I have to live with that."
I stood up.
He looked up at me.
"What happens now?" he said.
"You give your statement," I said.
"And then you stay away from me and my family for the rest of your life."
I walked out without looking back.
Outside, the evening air was cool.
I stood on the pavement for a moment.
Then I called Priya.
"I'm out," I said.
"How was it?"
"He's cooperating," I said.
"He's going to give a full statement."
A pause.
"Is it enough?" she said.
I thought about DS Okafor's question.
Whether any of it was true.
Whether a man who had helped plan something could be trusted when he claimed he had tried to stop it.
"It's enough to close the window," I said.
"Whether it's enough for everything else — that's for the courts to decide."
I started walking toward my car.
"Dad," Priya said.
"Rosa made dinner.
Come home."
May you like
I stopped walking for just a second.
"I'm on my way," I said.
