by Ali Carter
At the Courier Andrew ran his hand angrily through his hair as he paced up and down the office.
“I’m not saying you know everything,” he argued, “just that it seems very strange you have a brother you’ve never mentioned, who happens to be staying with you and is now in custody under suspicion of several murders! One of which happened to be a very close friend of mine!” Jenny sat nervously checking the door, waiting for Peter Gray to arrive and stop this. He was unusually late and Jenny was suffering the brunt of Andrew’s frustration. “Jenny I need to find out just what happened to Rachel – who killed her and why. It strikes me that the police have found the right person. So tell me – why am I wrong?!” She looked agitatedly at the window now, anxiously searching the tiny car park for the familiar maroon Mercedes… “Jenny?!” He pressed, pushing her hard now for some answers. This was not how he’d intended to have this conversation, but after the fish supper with the girls at the flat the night before, and the fact that so far he’d found out pretty much zilch, he’d decided that some sort of direct action had to be taken. As far as Jenny was concerned it had become pretty obvious Peter had chosen to have a rare lie in on the very day she could have done with him arriving on time. She peered through the window and craned her head around the secretarys’ cars. Still no sign – looked like she was going to have to face the continued barrage.
“Look Andy, I’m as much in the dark about this as you are. All I know is that my brother had nothing, repeat, nothing to do with any of these murders – including Rachel’s.”
“So how come he’s been arrested then? Why are they still holding him for questioning? What is it about him that makes enough of a difference from you or I that made the police decide to keep him in?”
“I… errr –”
At that point the maroon Mercedes slid alongside the large oak tree and Peter stepped out. The door clicked shut with that predictable muffled thud of pure luxurious quality. With his love of premium cars even Andrew’s attention was averted – but only for a second.
“I’m waiting Jenny.”
“He’s a schizophrenic,” she blurted out, one eye on the door. “He has to have medication. They found… they found a bottle with some tablets in at the last crime scene – okay?!
“And?” questioned Andrew wanting the rest – Jenny dropped her eyes to the floor, her voice barely a whisper.
“It had his name on it…on a Bradenthorpe pharmacy label.”
“Morning troops how are we todayyy?!” boomed Peter Gray as he strode through the door behind Beano. For once, Andrew was not in the mood to play with the little dog, and one look at his two reporters told the Courier’s editor things weren’t good. If he’d learnt one rule, it was not to interfere with young people and their problems because it usually led to issues, days off type issues usually. As long as the paper got out all in one piece and the columns and articles were read by the majority – that’s all he wanted to think about. With Stella at home, ankle broken, barking murder questions at him like a fish wife – these days he came to work for a rest. All he got was how she should be speaking to the police and running the story, and who and what was going on – there seemed little else on her mind lately. He was only late that morning because of fetching her some painkillers from the chemist.
“On second thoughts, don’t answer that,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way up the office to his own whilst Beano trotted along obediently at his heels.
“You were saying?” Andrew reminded his colleague.
“It wasn’t his prescription!” hissed Jenny, one eye on the pod, so much for hoping Peter would intervene – right now she’d even swap having to eat a three-course meal for this bloody interrogation.
“How do you know? How many schizophrenics is a town like Kirkdale likely to have? It had his name on it for Chrissake! Wake up Jenny! Who else could it be?!”
“You just want to pin it on someone, any one because of Rachel. I’m telling you Andrew, it’s not Jason! It must have been… planted or something, I don’t know.”
“And who would want to set Jason up? Nobody knows him!” Andrew flopped back down into his chair exasperated, shoved a heap of half-finished sports reports away from the edge of his desk and began doodling with a pen. He was frustrated, annoyed with himself more than Jenny, and in the heat of the argument had completely forgotten his car had been vandalised whilst Jason was still in custody. Now it was Jenny that asked a question.
“By the way… where’s your car Andrew? It’s not outside.”
“Oh someone scrawled graff…” he looked up. Jenny was now waiting for the rest of his answer. He looked deservedly sheepish then. “It’s alright Jen… it couldn’t have been Jason. Not unless this is a two-man team.” She looked at him puzzled at his sudden climb down. “Jason’s in custody and my car was vandalised last night in the leisure centre car park, whilst I was playing squash with Miles Peterson of all people. Of course it couldn’t have been your brother – I apologise for suggesting it was.” Jenny couldn’t stop her eyes betraying her, just that slight widening of the lids at the mention of Miles’ name.
“Who’s… Miles Peterson?” she asked, calmly as she turned her back on him to sit down at her own desk. Andrew may have been wrong about Jason but he wasn’t going to let that go…
“Oh I think you know the answer to that Jenny,” he replied now back in the driving seat. “I think you know the answer to that very well.”
SIXTEEN
Jenny flinched as she sat down. How could Andrew know about her and Miles? How could anyone know? She didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
“I saw you together the other night, when he was at your flat.”
“Are you saying you’ve been following me?” she asked incredulously. “I’ll damn well have you for stalking if that’s the case!”
“No of course not – I’ve been following him. But that’s not for public consumption. I mean that Jen, you keep quiet. As it goes, I now know he can’t be responsible for the murders because the third body was found pretty much at the same time he was with you. Reports state the woman was dead less than an hour. Even Miles couldn’t be that cool.”
“You really are a lousy detective aren’t you?” she mocked, chin raised, eyes narrowed in scorn almost laughing out loud at him. “First Jason now Miles? You simply haven’t a clue.” Andrew was shocked at this sudden personality change, he hadn’t known her long but this character assassination seemed way off course.
“And you have I suppose?” he replied defensively. “Come on I’d like to hear your theories. I’m all ears!” he said folding his arms, waiting. Jenny held his stare, equally adamant that she was not going to be the one to lose this particular spat.
“I have no idea who is behind it Andrew, I leave that kind of thing to the police. You know? Those guys in blue uniforms trained to carry out murder investigations!” Andrew’s arms remained folded – waiting…
“I’ve known Miles a long time. Our… relationship is nothing to do with you, or anyone else. Like me, Mister Gale, I suggest you keep quiet about that too. Her eyes flashed a warning and there was a new firm set to her raised jaw. Her whole body language said ‘don’t push me too far’. He carried on looking at her for a few more seconds before averting his gaze and letting the subject drop. There was more to Miss Flood than she was giving out, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere like this.
Although Miles wasn’t really a suspect any longer, he now wondered if Jenny was tangled up in this mess somehow. Or was she just sensitive about Miles? On reflection, Jason was probably in the clear so why should she be in the frame? He looked over again – Jenny now had her back to him and appeared to be getting stuck into the morning’s work. God what a nightmare! He ran a hand around the back of his neck in frustration. She was irritatingly right about one thing though – he was a lousy detective! Andrew got up and headed for the kit
chen. Strong black coffee was what he needed right now – not to mention a few leads.
The rest of the day passed peacefully enough if rather strained. The two reporters pretty much ignored each other as they produced their columns and articles for the coming week. There was an atmosphere in the air though that wouldn’t, and probably now couldn’t be shifted. This just left Andrew more confused and suspicious than ever. Who could he trust anyway? At that moment his mobile vibrated – somebody he knew he could trust. Molly.
‘I JUST VISITED JASON – HE’S BEING RELEASED ON BAIL IN THE MORNING AND I’M GOING TO MEET HIM AT GINO’S TOMORROW NIGHT. I NEED TO BE SURE…’
So even Molls was having doubts now… Andrew shut the phone and tapped it with his fingers. He shot a glance at Jenny before reopening the mobile and flipping through the address book to Gina’s name. He pressed send SMS, and worked quickly tapping out a message to meet him at the Carpenters for lunch. They would need to arrange a ‘watch’ for Molly the following evening. He couldn’t let her meet a suspected murderer alone, and a schizophrenic one at that.
Andrew wished he could have taken as much pleasure in his new-ish car as he would normally have done, particularly as Ropers had got it in so quickly for him. However, given his current position, was wondering if it would also soon fall prey to whoever ‘decorated’ old Rosie.
He parked the metallic blue Mondeo carefully between a tired Jag and a not so tired Mercedes, in the vague hope if he was being watched they might think twice about graffitiing his car whilst it was flanked by two fairly decent vehicles. He noticed a maroon and silver Morgan Roadster was nestling alone in a corner bay, and this time took down the number plate. If it was one of the Petersons he’d soon know. Very few people in Kirkdale drove a car like that. One day he thought, glancing back at the Morgan as he sauntered through the rear patio entrance of the pub. Once inside he gave Molly a nod and she got to work pulling him a pint whilst he scanned the room. He couldn’t see Miles at first, lunchtimes were always busy, but then noticed him head down in a corner booth with one of the ‘gazelles’ from the squash club corridor. Moron thought Andrew, as he grabbed a stool and ordered a Scotch and coke in readiness for Gina. With a week off work she was already on site, and now entering the bar from the private quarters she shared with Molly’s family.
“So are you here to warn me off meeting him then?” Molly whispered under her breath. “Because it won’t work, I have to know.” She looked furtively over her shoulder at her father who was fortunately now serving on the other side of the bar, so safely out of earshot.
“No Molls, I know when you’ve got a bee in your bonnet about something you’re as bad as I am for wanting to see it through. But I found out something very interesting from Jenny today, and what I do want to do is for Gina and me to be in the wine bar as well – at a discreet distance.”
“What? What did you find out Andy?” she asked excitedly, her back half towards him, half towards the optic as she pushed up on the nozzle for Gina’s drink.
“Jason Flood is a schizophrenic. Jenny says the police found a bottle of his tablets at the last murder scene, but she insists they’re not his actual bottle. As you know he’s being released on bail in the morning and is still a suspect.”
“He never told me he had that condition” she said, disappointed Jason hadn’t confided in her. “Maybe I can get him to open up a bit tomorrow night. It doesn’t mean…”
“No I know, but I’d rather Gee and I were both there. He doesn’t know us so he won’t suspect anything, and I’d feel happier knowing you aren’t totally alone with him. Allow me that much eh?”
“Okay,” she conceded, smiling. “You’ve got your ‘Surveillance Op.’ Secret Squirrel!” Molly grinned as Gina arrived then and sat down on the stool opposite her boyfriend. She leant forward to receive his ‘Hi – missed you babe’ kiss. Their eyes held for a second before including Molly into their little bubble. It’d been a long time since they’d spent any real quality time alone together lately. Andrew squeezed her hand. He knew she was thinking the same and made a mental note that when this was all over he’d make it up to her. Smiling, she knew what he was thinking too, and knew that he would. Lovely thoughts of a romantic break somewhere popped into her head as she reached for her drink.
It was just then Miles spotted Andrew and looked decidedly alarmed, particularly when he noticed who was with him. The two men stared hard at each other before Andrew reluctantly gave him the ‘boys’ nod’, inferring he wouldn’t say anything about his indiscretion. Miles returned the gesture with a weak smile, quickly drank the last of his brandy then leant forward to speak to the young girl before slipping out of the pub as swiftly and covertly as possible. He certainly didn’t want his receptionist seeing him cosying up to anyone other than his wife.
“So what are you hoping to gain from tomorrow Molly?” asked Gina, with one eye on the bar menu.
“I’ll know if he’s telling me the truth, I just want to be a hundred and ten percent certain he’s not involved. I liked him that day at the fair – a lot, and I felt he liked me. I just want to give him a chance.”
“Okay, but be careful, at least we’ll be there to keep watch,” replied Gina reassuringly.
“Fair do’s,” Andrew added. “It will be interesting to find out a bit more about him anyway, what he knows about Jenny and Miles, their history and so on. I still think there’s a connection with that man but for the life of me I haven’t a clue why.”
“Well while you’re trying to work that out I’ll have a brie and salad baguette and a bowl of cheesy chips – I’m starving!” Her two friends looked at Gina and then burst out laughing. “What?!” she exclaimed. Andrew wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, pulled her into him and gave her a bear hug.
“My little hungry horse – I do so love you!” he laughed then kissed her firmly on the lips.
The following evening found them in their favourite wine bar. Gino’s was quieter than a Saturday when they would normally have been there, consequently some conversations could be more easily overheard.
It was eight o’clock. Andrew and Gina sat two tables away from Molly who, as arranged, had arrived earlier. They watched the door impatiently, intrigued to know which guy would make for their friend’s table in the corner, and what he’d be like. Molly had brought a magazine to read to prevent her looking over at the others.
Ten minutes later they were all sipping house white when Jason Flood walked through the door. Several of the older clientele looked up in disapproval as he swept through the entrance. His long Gothic coat skimmed his pointed boots and the purple flash in his hair had been joined by a strip of luminous green. Emblazoned against the rich black, they flopped lazily across his forehead as he searched the room. Molly looked up from her magazine on hearing the door, and seeing Jason, smiled and beckoned him over to her table. When he saw her face, his lit up, Andrew and Gina noticed that his smile was no different from any other young guy pleased to be meeting his girlfriend. Jason strode eagerly over to Molly’s table, bent close and gave her a friendly peck on the cheek before sitting down.
“It’s great to see you again, I never thought I was going to get a chance to explain – why I never contacted you I mean. I couldn’t believe it when they said you’d turned up at the station.”
“I knew there had to be a good explanation,” replied Molly as she went to pour him a large glass of wine. Immediately he placed a flat hand over the rim to stop her.
“No! Err… I can’t… thanks.” She put the bottle down. “I have to take some… some medication,” he continued. “It clashes, makes me drowsy and stuff, so I just stick to Coke generally.” This was true, but he was speaking from habit. Jason had not taken his Clozapine correctly in months…
“No problem, I’ll join you,” said Molly as she gestured to a waiter, ordered two Cokes and tried hard not to look past him at her two ‘minders’ wh
ile she did so. She managed – just.
“Looks like he doesn’t drink then,” observed Andrew glancing at Gina.
“No. Very odd for a young guy isn’t it, sooo…” his girlfriend slowly stroked the stem of her Chardonnay. “Either that’s because he doesn’t like it or…”
“…Because of his medication,” finished Andrew.“Well maybe we’ll be able to hear something if Molly can get him to talk.” Just as he finished that sentence, the air filled with instrumental music which basically put the kybosh on them hearing themselves clearly, let alone anyone a few tables away. They both let out a sigh and simultaneously reached for their wine glasses.
The next few hours passed by very slowly. Molly appeared to be having a good time with Jason, and they both stuck religiously to Coke. By eleven o’clock, and without being able to hear much at all above the music, Andrew and Gina had become rather relaxed and not quite as sharp as they’d been at the start of the evening. Even Andrew had wound down considerably. Before they realised it, Molly and Jason had slipped past them and were walking hand in hand through the open door and out onto the street. It was only because Gina felt Molly’s sharp dig in her back, she realised her ‘ally’ had been far more astute than either she or Andrew. Next time they’d better stick to Coke too she decided.
“Andy!” Gina kicked him under the table.
“Ow! Wha’… what babe? D’you wanna another…?”
“No! Sharpen up!” his girlfriend whispered urgently. “They’ve just left!” Those few words seemed to clear his head faster than any good night’s sleep. They pushed back their chairs, and carefully followed them out into the night.