by Carol Wyer
Murray clattered into the room with a loud, ‘Morning!’
She acknowledged his presence and asked, ‘If I told you your best friend had died, what would be the first thing you’d say to me?’
‘When? Where? How?’ he replied with a slight hesitation.
‘Exactly! Yet Ellie Cornwall didn’t ask any of those questions, and I have a hunch she’s still holding out on us.’
‘Going to talk to her again?’
‘Definitely. The Curtis boys too. Charlie overheard a quarrel between Cathy and Roxy on Saturday afternoon about a boy. I’d like to probe that.’
She was gaining pace, her thoughts lining up one behind the other. She now had a structure to her investigation and logic to her thought process.
‘I’m still not sure about Cathy and why she was at the canal. If she’d gone looking for Seth, she’d have told Paul, wouldn’t she?’
‘Unless she suspected Seth was to blame and wanted to talk to him.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ She pursed her lips in irritation at not considering that possibility then came up with another theory. ‘She took Roxy’s toy cat with her and walked past the house where Roxy died. That sounds like the actions of a distraught mother – one who wanted to see for herself where her child had died. I can understand that. I’d want to do that if I were in that situation.’ Her pulse increased as she reasoned that Cathy could then have headed to the canal to spend some time alone in her misery and was spotted. ‘Someone might even have followed her there from Linnet Lane.’
Murray picked up where she was going with this new thought process. ‘And that someone could even be Gavin Lang, a man with no alibi to confirm he was at his girlfriend’s flat over the tea shop, within walking distance from where Cathy was murdered.’
‘Exactly.’ She reached for a marker pen, wrote down Gavin’s name on the board and linked it to Cathy’s. She added Seth’s and said, ‘Gavin and Seth were both in the vicinity at the time.’ She tapped the desk with the pen in her hand, a confident rat-a-tat-tat. This was why she enjoyed being a detective.
Lucy bowled up next, full of enthusiasm, her hair still damp from a shower. She greeted the pair, dropped a canvas bag onto the floor and sat down, her body turned towards Natalie. Ian followed swiftly behind her and nodded a good morning to everyone. Natalie mused that since the evening with Murray at Extravaganza, he seemed to have returned to his former self.
Within a couple of minutes, Natalie was ready to begin.
‘There’s lots of loose ends we need to tie up before we can move on and we need to get cracking. So, with that in mind, Lucy, track down Ellie again. When we first told her about Roxy’s death, she didn’t ask where we’d found her friend or how she’d died. I’d have thought it would have been one of the first questions she’d have asked.’
‘She could have been too shocked to ask, and she already told us she doesn’t know the men,’ said Lucy.
Natalie understood her reluctance, but teenagers, like many people, were secretive. She only had to think about Leigh borrowing her friend’s homework to know that. ‘I know, and I might be reading too much into it, but she’s already kept information from us so it’s worth following up.’
Lucy looked doubtful but nodded all the same. ‘Okay. I’ll question her again.’
‘I’m going to talk to Charlie. Murray, look into Gavin’s story, will you? As we discussed earlier, he claimed he was asleep in Daisy’s flat Sunday evening when Cathy was murdered and that Daisy didn’t return until nine thirty. His brother was also out. Like you said, he was within walking distance of the canal. He had opportunity although motive is still a bit murky.’
‘He did try it on with Cathy at the nightclub last December. Maybe there was more to it than that and they did have a fling and she dumped him or was even blackmailing him.’
‘That’s certainly possible and might go a little way to explaining Roxy’s presence at their house – she might have known them through her mother. It’s all very hypothetical so let’s run a financial check on Cathy. Ian, see if there’s been any odd activity on her accounts since last December. All clear on what we’re doing?’ With that she ended the briefing.
‘Catch you later.’ She shot out of the office and bounded down the stairs. She wanted to get to Clearview and tackle Charlie. Why he hadn’t come out with this sooner, she didn’t know, but she needed to ascertain who the mysterious boy in question was. This could be the vital piece of information she’d been hoping for, and boy, did she need it!
There was a sour smell in the flat. The curtains hadn’t yet been opened and an aura of sadness rested heavily in the room. Shadows lingered in the gloomy corners like silent spectres. Oliver moved swiftly to the windows and let in some light, his face set stern.
‘We had journalists here earlier. Told them to fuck right off. Bloody sharks.’
‘Where’s Paul?’ asked Natalie.
‘He went to work.’
‘I’m surprised he wanted to or that his boss didn’t give him time off.’
‘He offered but Paul said he’d prefer to keep busy. It’s pretty crap just sitting about here staring at each other not knowing what to say or do. He’s having trouble holding it together. Charlie’s in. He’s not up yet though.’
‘How are you bearing up?’ Her concern was genuine.
‘I couldn’t sleep. I shared with Charlie and Seth. Slept on the floor. I couldn’t face using Roxy’s room. It’s fucking awful being here. None of this feels real. It’s even harder than I thought it would be. Everyone expects me to be the tough guy – the soldier – but…’ The confidence he’d displayed yesterday evaporated.
She took in the dark semicircles under his eyes and spoke quietly. ‘Have you spoken to the liaison officer?’
‘PC Granger?’
‘Yes.’
‘She rang last night after we got back from the station. We said we were okay without her.’
‘Are you, though? She’s a trained, experienced officer. She really can help you deal with this.’
‘No one can help us, can they? They can’t change what’s happened and they can’t make it better. I lost a mate on operations in Afghanistan in 2016. We had to clear out all his personal stuff from his locker to hand back to his parents: photos, letters, clothes, his shaving brush and toiletries, the lucky rabbit’s foot key ring that we joked about. We stripped his bed, got rid of his kit and erased all evidence he’d ever existed. It’ll be the same here, won’t it? We’ll bury the pain and eventually get back on with our own lives. We can manage.’
‘Talk to PC Granger. It’ll help,’ Natalie urged.
He gave a brief tilt of his head then said, ‘I’ll tell Charlie you want to talk to him.’
As she waited she glanced around the room. Since Sunday morning it had descended into a type of chaos. Crushed cans of beer were strewn on the table along with crisp packets, empty bottles of water and takeaway coffee cups. A pair of trainers, not Seth’s, had been kicked under a small table, a hoodie cast onto the back of one of the dining chairs and the table covered in clutter. Cushions that had been plumped up proudly on the settees were now flattened and crushed where they’d been sat on or hugged tightly, or thrown on the floor next to newspapers. She caught sight of the headline on the front page of a local paper: Teenager killed in arson attack on mansion. The television remote control had fallen or been thrown onto the carpet, and several mugs had been left on a sideboard in between the ornaments that stood there.
Oliver was back. Charlie, in jogging bottoms and a tight T-shirt that showed off his muscles, trailed in his wake.
‘Hi, Charlie,’ she said.
He grunted.
‘I’d like to talk to you about an argument you heard between Roxy and your mum. When did this take place?’
He shifted uncomfortably from one bare foot to the other. ‘Saturday morning, before I went out.’
‘Oliver said it was about some boy. Who were they arguing about?’
He flicked a look at his brother, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug.
Natalie spotted the exchange and pressed him further. ‘This could be very important information. What exactly did you overhear?’
‘I didn’t hear it all – only snippets. I wasn’t paying much attention to start with but Roxy got really loud and called Mum a bitch…
‘You’re such a bitch!’ Roxy yells.
‘For fuck’s sake, Roxy, calm down. He’s a bag of trouble and you know it. What the hell are you thinking of, hanging around him?’
‘I’m old enough to make up my own mind. He’s not as bad as you think.’
‘Don’t talk crap. You know exactly what he’s like. Don’t get involved with him.’
‘I’m not going to be told who I can and can’t see.’
‘If you start hanging around with Tucker, you know what will happen. It’ll end in tears. Let it go. There are plenty of other boys.’
‘You don’t get it, do you? I really like him.’
‘Roxy, I’m warning you. Stay away from him. You know the consequences. Do you want that to happen?’
There’s a long pause followed by a subdued response.
‘No.’
‘I’m sorry but you know I’m right.’
‘Yeah.’
There’s a pause and lower voices now.
‘Who is this Tucker?’ she asked.
‘It’s most likely Tucker Henderson. He’s got a bit of a bad reputation around these parts. There’s a rumour he and his mate Habib Malik set fire to the school art block.’
Natalie had heard about the fire but nobody had been charged for it. The fact the boys’ names had been mentioned in connection to an arson attack rang alarm bells for her. She needed to talk to them urgently.
‘Are they still at school?’
‘No. They left last year. Neither of them work. They just hang about the place.’
Do you have any contact details for them?’
‘No chance. Tucker’s not one of my friends. He lives on the Galloway Estate in the same block as Habib.’
The Galloway Estate had the highest number of incidents relating to knife crime and drugs in the entire county. Tucker and Habib were from the worst possible part of Clearview. Natalie had to move in on them quickly.
Twenty-Three
Tuesday, 3 July – Morning
David sat in his car with his head in his hands. He had absolutely no idea why he’d made up the story about having a job interview. Actually, he did know why: he’d wanted some attention. He’d wanted Natalie to be pleased for him. It was childish and pathetic and he wished he hadn’t said anything.
He got out and stood beside his car, briefcase in his hand, looking like one of the regular, middle-aged businessmen walking to the nearby office blocks. He couldn’t stay at home because Josh was there and it might slip out that he hadn’t gone to any interview, so he’d put on a suit and left the house and now he was feeling like the biggest heel ever. What the fuck was happening to him? He joined the professionals making their way to work and for a fleeting moment recalled what it felt like to be part of that. He turned into a coffee house and queued to purchase a takeaway with the money he’d taken from the shopping fund. Natalie had left twenty-five pounds for household goods and shopping. He’d get it back. He ordered a flat white to go and handed over a five-pound note. The need to feel part of normal working life was acute.
Back on the street, he stopped at the newsagents next door for a local paper so he could hunt through the job sections. There might be something he could apply for. He picked up a copy of the Gazette and dropped it onto the countertop.
‘Anything else?’ the girl asked.
His eyes landed on the scratch cards next to the till. The twenty-pound note rustled between his fingertips.
‘Two £20,000 Jackpots,’ he said. He’d checked the odds and knew there was a 1 in 3.54 chance overall of winning a prize. Gambler! He winced at the voice in his head and waited for his change.
Back inside the car he drew the deepest breath, plastic cup balanced in the cup holder and cards in his sweaty palms. The throbbing in his temples was the blood pumping through his veins. Idiot! You fucking idiot! He lifted a ten-pence piece and scratched away at the surface, revealing the numbers. No win. He had to win this time. He was long overdue some luck. He asked the universe to listen to his request and rubbed again. There! Number twenty-one. He knew he’d win. It was only fifty pounds; however, his luck was on the turn and now he could replace the money he’d taken from the household kitty. In fact, there was even some left over and he could buy a nice bottle of wine for them to share when she got in. He’d tell her he’d done a short translation for somebody if she asked where the money had come from. He jumped back out of the car to claim his winnings and he already knew what he’d do with some of it. He’d reinvest and buy a couple more cards. Next time, he might win big.
Twenty-Four
Tuesday, 3 July – Late Morning
Following the morning briefing, Murray had driven to Armston and was now in the Vintage Tea Room, sitting opposite Daisy. The place was empty of customers but warm and filled with the delicious aroma of fresh baking. Daisy had some flour stuck to one cheek but he didn’t draw attention to it. She picked at the corner of a red serviette that had been laid out on the table ready for customer use.
‘I’d like to know what time you left the flat Sunday afternoon. Gavin said he was asleep when you went.’
‘Four-ish.’
‘And what time did you get back?’
She refolded the serviette and answered, ‘Not too sure. I guess it was around nine fifteen or so.’
‘And Gavin was in the flat when you left and when you returned?’
‘Yes. He was asleep when I left and watching television when I got back.’
‘Does he often go to sleep in the afternoon?’
‘He doesn’t normally get in until the early hours from the club, so it’s quite usual for him to take a power nap. He flaked out after lunch. First, he dozed off in the chair but he was wrecked after being up all night, what with the fire and everything, so he went to bed for a couple of hours. I left him to it and went out.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘Met a friend in town.’ A flush climbed up her neck and she started to pick at the serviette again, worrying a corner of it.
‘Can you tell me the name of the friend?’
‘Why? I’m not under suspicion for something, am I?’
‘I have to take down every detail.’ He stared at her hard and waited. Eventually she broke eye contact with him but didn’t answer. ‘You’re acting rather strangely for somebody who’s been asked to provide some simple information. I only want to confirm you were with who you said you were with.’ When she still didn’t answer him he added, ‘I can find out the hard way and have your phone and your car traced. I’ll find out eventually.’
She put both hands to her forehead and inhaled deeply. ‘Look, this can’t get out. Gavin mustn’t hear about it. Not yet. Not until we’ve told him.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’ve started seeing Kirk. It’s not working out between Gavin and me but he’s not easy to shake off. He’s pretty keen on me and I’ve been trying to find the right moment to break up with him. Kirk and I met up yesterday and discussed what to do but we’re leaving it for a while longer before we break the news.’
‘Were you with Kirk all afternoon?’
‘Yes, from just after four until nine. We met up at the marina in Barton-under-Needwood. I told Gavin I was out with friends.’
‘How did he seem when you got in?’
‘In what way?’
‘Worried, hyper, miserable?’
‘He was a bit annoyed I hadn’t got back earlier cos he’d fancied a meal out but we got a takeaway delivered instead and watched telly. He was normal.’
‘Did he tell you what he’d done all afternoon?’
‘No, but he
was still in his lounge pants and top he was wearing when he went to bed, so I figured he’d not done much.’
‘It must be tricky having both men living with you here,’ he said.
‘That’s changed. Kirk’s staying with a friend until the insurance money comes in and he can rent somewhere. He’s not going to share with Gavin. It’ll be really difficult once Gavin finds out about us.’
Murray made a note of what she’d told him. A thought flashed across his mind – would Kirk and Daisy deliberately burn down the house so Kirk could free himself of living with Gavin? It seemed extreme. He’d ask Natalie for her thoughts on the matter.
‘Why do you want to know where Gavin was?’
‘Cathy Curtis was found dead in the canal down the road from here. She was Roxy’s mother.’
‘The girl who was in Kirk’s house?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Shit! What’s going on?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out.’ He had another thought. ‘You used to work at the nightclub, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You were a hostess there.’
‘That’s right.’ Her voice was hesitant as if expecting another bombshell.
‘Do you know Sandra Bryton and Crystal Marekova?’
‘Ye-es.’ Her eyes narrowed as she spoke.
‘You friends with them?’
‘No.’ She shook her head emphatically.
‘But you know them.’
‘I saw them at the club. I served them drinks but I’m not friends with them.’ She wrinkled her face up as she spoke.