Хилари Боннер - The Cruellest Game

The police arrived in about forty-five minutes, which wasn’t too bad when you considered how remote Highrise was. It felt like several days.

When I heard them knock, I opened the bedroom door cautiously. I could also hear Florrie barking in the kitchen, which was a relief. I made my way to that bit of the landing with a window overlooking the front of the house. The automatic security lights must have switched on as the police had arrived and I could see that a patrol car stood in the yard and two uniformed officers were at the door. I wondered if the lights had been activated earlier by the intruder. But in any case I would not have seen them from the bedroom I was using.

I went downstairs, unbolted, unlocked and opened the door, registering as I did so that it seemed unlikely the intruder had gained entry through it.

My first impression was how fresh-faced and young-looking the two officers were. I know it’s a cliché but policemen really do get younger as you get older.

‘Mrs Anderson?’ queried the taller one.

I nodded. I realized for the first time that I was shaking. And it seemed just too difficult to speak.

‘Don’t worry,’ he continued, his voice professionally reassuring. ‘We’ll check everything out for you. I’m Constable Jacobs and I just want you to stay here with Constable Bickerton, while I have a look round.’ He gestured to the shorter officer who seemed to be wearing a cap that was a size or two too big for him, then he set off in the direction of the kitchen.

I found my voice. ‘Our dog should be in there,’ I called out.

‘That’s all right, I like dogs,’ PC Jacobs called back.

‘He does too, more than people if you ask me,’ muttered PC Bickerton.

I glanced at him. Was he trying to make some kind of joke? Possibly not. It seemed PC Jacobs quickly made friends with Florrie. I didn’t hear another peep from her.

Meanwhile Constable Bickerton busied himself with investigating the locks on the front door. He would have heard me turn the big old key and pull back the bolt.

With the door standing open he ran the bolt to and fro a couple of times and turned the key in its lock.

‘Nothing has been tampered with here, I don’t think,’ he said. I nodded in agreement.

He also checked the gate at the side of the house, solid and about five feet high, which gave access to the back of Highrise and to the garden. We usually kept it locked at night, and it too seemed secure.

After a few minutes PC Jacobs returned.

‘I’ve had a look in every room in the house, Mrs Anderson,’ he said. ‘If there has been an intruder, he’s certainly not here any more. And so far I can’t see any signs of any disturbance or of forced entry. But perhaps you’d have a walk around with us to make sure.’

I followed the two officers into the kitchen. They had both removed their caps. Jacobs was very dark, almost as dark as Robert, his hair slicked down and parted at the side like a 1950s schoolboy. Bickerton’s head was covered only with closely shaven blond stubble. Perhaps that was why his cap seemed too big for him, I thought obliquely.

Florrie flew at me, wriggling her entire body around my legs. She was a picture of joy. Her tongue hung out of her mouth and she licked every bit of flesh she could find on my exposed legs and my hands. I did my best to calm her down.

‘I’ve checked the back door and the windows in every room,’ said PC Jacobs. ‘But perhaps you’ll make sure for us that everything is as it should be, as it was when you went upstairs to bed.’

I glanced around the kitchen. Nothing seemed to have been touched; everything did indeed seem to be as I’d left it. I turned the handle on the back door and pulled. It didn’t budge. Still locked. I swung round to look at the hook on the wall by the fridge. The back door key still hung from it, just as it should.

I made my way to the sitting room, the police officers right behind me and Florrie running ahead. Once again it was the same story. Just as PC Jacobs had reported there was no sign of any disturbance to anything, and no sign of any windows having been tampered with.

Our state-of-the-art smart TV stood on the chest of drawers to the right of the inglenook fireplace. It was still there, and quite obviously no attempt had been made to move it. My iPad was on the granite-topped coffee table. I saw that PC Bickerton was also looking at the iPad. I knew what he was thinking. Surely no self-respecting burglar would leave that behind?

We moved into the dining room. Again, nothing seemed to have been touched, and certainly nothing seemed to be missing.

Upstairs it was the same story.

I felt my heart sinking. I didn’t want there to have been an intruder in my house, of course, but I feared I knew only too well what both police officers were thinking. And I wasn’t wrong.

‘Is it possible you could have been mistaken, Mrs Anderson?’ asked PC Jacobs eventually. ‘Are you sure you heard someone in the house?’

‘Yes I did and no I wasn’t mistaken,’ I responded, quite forcefully.

‘But wouldn’t your dog have seen an intruder off?’

‘I shouldn’t think so for one moment,’ I said. ‘You must have learned already, PC Jacobs, what a softy she is, even with strangers.’

‘She did bark when we arrived, though.’

‘Yes, and I think she did when the intruder arrived. I think that’s what woke me. But you’d only have to make a fuss of her, or give her a treat, and she’d soon quieten down and be all over you.’

‘So,’ concluded PC Bickerton. ‘You think the dog’s barking may have woken you, but you didn’t hear her bark at all after you were properly awake, is that correct?’

I shook my head lamely.

The PC coughed slightly, as if embarrassed.

‘Look, we know you must be going through a very stressful time, Mrs Anderson. It is quite understandable that you would be on edge and that you might think—’

‘I didn’t think anything, Constable Bickerton,’ I said. ‘There was someone in my house. I heard him, or her, moving around. Quite definitely. And what do you mean about me going through a stressful time? What do you know about any of that?’

PC Bickerton coughed again. ‘It is a matter of record that your son has just died under extremely distressing circumstances. There was, after all, a police investigation...’ he began.

‘Call that an investigation?’ I snapped.

‘Look, Mrs Anderson, you are clearly overwrought—’

I interrupted him again. I realized I had to pull myself together and fast or I would probably never get any help from the police ever again, although little help they’d been so far.

‘Just let me have a proper look around, will you?’ I asked. ‘I think I’m in shock. I may have missed something.’

‘Of course,’ said PC Bickerton patiently.

I went through the bedrooms, opening all the wardrobe doors and the drawers, still without noticing anything amiss, and then downstairs to the little room next to the kitchen which we used as a study. The computer Robert and I shared stood untouched on the desk. I opened the top left-hand drawer of the desk first, rummaged around in it a bit, checked quickly through the others, then back to the top one again.

‘My iPod is missing,’ I said triumphantly.

‘Are you sure?’ asked PC Bickerton.

‘Quite sure,’ I said. ‘I always keep it in the top drawer of this desk. It’s gone.’

‘iPods are so small, couldn’t you have misplaced it?’

‘Definitely not. It’s been taken.’

‘But why would a burglar take an iPod from a drawer and leave behind an iPad clearly visible on a table?’ asked PC Jacobs, his voice a little sharper than PC Bickerton’s.

I felt the colour rise in my cheeks. I had no answer and I didn’t try to give one. Instead I turned my attention to the sitting room. I stood in the doorway just looking around me, trying to calm myself down in order to make sure I didn’t miss anything.