by Linda Coles
Amanda knew Jack’s focus was on the victims themselves, of course, but secretly she knew he hoped for another chance to reminisce.
Chapter Sixty-Two
“I thought the GMP was at Bootle Street, in the city centre,” Amanda said as Jack opened his car door to get out.
“No, they left there about three years back. There’s a local public booth in the Town Hall building now, not much else. You ever go in Bootle Street?”
“Just the once. It was like the TV set for Life on Mars, dingy and decrepit, if I remember correctly. They probably filmed Whitechapel in there too. Now that was an ugly set if ever I saw one. Gave me the creeps watching that every time someone went to the loo. Those corridors were too creepy. Ugh.” She shuddered. They both started walking towards a brick building in the distance.
“So why are we here, then, and not the Town Hall?”
“Because it’s only a public counter in there. The rest of the work is done from here,” he said, pointing to a new modern building. “This,” he said, waving his arm, “is Longsight police station. Built in 1998—another useless fact for you.”
“So what will they do with the old place then?”
“I hear Gary Neville and Ryan Giggs, two ex-players, bought it. They’re planning on building a five-star hotel and apartments, though the locals are objecting, so who knows if it will go ahead.” He held the front door open and Amanda slipped inside ahead of him. They made themselves known to an officer at the front desk, then sat to wait for Detectives Black and Dukes. It was only a moment before Amanda spotted the two men approaching them. One of them, a rather good-looking man, had a beaming smile that went from one ear round to the next, and Amanda couldn’t quite keep her eyes off it. Had she ever seen a smile so wide? With tight dark curls on top and short sideburns, he looked like a young Buddy Holly, though a little taller; she estimated a whopping six feet, four inches. But the resemblance was uncanny. His dark hair certainly suited his surname of Black, too, and she watched as he made a beeline for her, his hand held out in front of him, ready to shake.
“Glad you could both make it. I’m DS Rick Black, and this is DS Duncan Dukes. I believe you’ve already spoken?”
Duncan was at his side, arm extended, and everyone took turns shaking hands.
The formalities complete, Black steered everyone back towards the back offices and through to a meeting room just off the main incident room. The visual board was displayed front and centre, covered with photos and possible lines of enquiry about Sebastian Stevens’ gruesome killing. Black ran through the case so far—what they knew and what they were still waiting for. He confirmed that it the same drug had been used to kill both Stevens and Fiona Gable. And, like Fiona Gable, Sebastian Stevens had been dead before his throat had been slashed. There was no mistake: they were dealing with the same person.
Black concluded by saying, “I’m going to interview his PA shortly. She had access to his work life and a good portion of his personal life, though she hadn’t been working for him that long. Amanda, I think it might be helpful if you come along, in case she’s more comfortable divulging to another woman.”
“Perfect. Yes.”
“By all accounts, our victim had quite a personal life and quite a reputation with the ladies, both organic dates and transactional. Let’s just say he had some particular tastes that he paid handsomely for. And that brings us back to the two women who were in the lobby that night. We think one was an escort, although she only stayed for a few minutes. But the other we have no idea about. Her head was low the whole time, and if she is our perp, she was in the building for around forty minutes, ample time to do the job. Unfortunately, when she left the building, she headed down the quiet back streets and we lost her on camera.
“Computer forensics are working on Stevens’ office hardware, but his personal laptop is missing, and that could hold the key. Who knows.”
Jack turned to Duncan. “How are you doing with the origin of the drug? Have you canvassed the vets who use it up here, or any of the suppliers?”
“Still going through the list but nothing concrete so far. Should know more by the end of the day. Nothing at your end?” Duncan looked at Jack and Amanda, though he already knew the answer: they’d have said something if they’d got a result to share.
“No, but we do have a couple of places that have used the drug recently. They are both near wildlife parks or zoos. And both have legitimate back-up stories. Still, neither has been ruled out at this stage.”
“Right. I’ll take Amanda with me,” said Rick. “Duncan, why don’t you show Jack the CCTV footage? There may be something for fresh eyes to find.”
“Will do, and we might drop over to his apartment again.”
His chair scraped on the tiled floor as he stood, signalling that the briefing was drawing to a close. The others stood in unison.
“Let’s get going, then, and meet back here later. Are you both staying over?”
Jack took that one. “Probably not, but open at this stage.”
Rick showed them back out and into the main incident room.
“Is there a game on tonight, do you know, at Old Trafford?” Jack asked.
“A fan, are you?”
“I was thinking more of the fish and chips, actually,” he said, smiling.
Chapter Sixty-Three
The thing that struck Amanda about Georgia first off was her absolute beauty. She was a stunning woman, and Amanda immediately wondered if she and her boss had had a fling or two. Two beautiful people working together—it seemed a natural conclusion. They were sat in the boardroom at Sebast Suites, steaming mugs of peppermint tea set out in front of each of them, as Rick gently took Georgia over recent events again, Sebastian’s enemies and his hobbies, his sexual relationships. Georgia was still clearly distressed at the loss of her boss, the red rims of her eyes a telltale sign she’d cried hard, and recently. Her nose was as pink as if she’d had a heavy cold and used a few too many rough tissues.
“He had his fair share of enemies, I know, and after that video hit the press, he did get some hate mail but nothing serious, nothing worthy of calling the police for. Just general hateful comments. I deleted them, the emails he got, but you may still be able to trace them.” She sounded hopeful. She was trying her best to help. She wiped the end of her nose again with her tissue, making the pinkness a tiny bit brighter.
“What about his working relationships? What’s been happening there of note?” Rick had a gentle manner as he questioned her, though Amanda suspected that had she been a suspect rather than the victim’s colleague, he’d be showing quite a different side of himself. But his approach was working with Georgia. She seemed reasonably relaxed.
Georgia thought for a moment, silent, and looked at the floor for direction before she finally spoke.
“There has been a bit of an upset with a working relationship recently. I know the man involved wasn’t happy with Sebastian, not at all, though Sebastian wasn’t too bothered. He had a hard skin most of the time.”
“Who was that?”
Amanda studied Georgia and her body language while Rick wrote in his notebook. Georgia was now feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and it was starting to show. Amanda took the opportunity to speak. Leaning closer to Georgia, she added gently, “Anything, no matter how small, could be useful. This man—it sounds like we should have a chat with him. What is his name, Georgia?”
Amanda’s voice had the desired effect. Georgia relaxed visibly and spoke up more confidently now. “He’s Jason Whitely, one of the franchisees whom Sebastian was working with. I believe there was a big disagreement a few days before all this happened, and Jason was livid. From the little I know of the situation, he lost a lot of money to Sebastian. He sent some threatening emails. He was extremely angry and upset. You don’t think he had anything to do with it, do you?” Georgia looked genuinely concerned. “He is such a nice man! I can’t believe he’d have anything to do with it.” Her voice rose an octave
in distress.
“We’ll take a look,” said Amanda evenly. “We are investigating all leads at the moment so it may come to nothing.”
Georgia’s eyes returned to their normal size as the alarm in them slowly dissipated.
“We’ll need his contact details from you,” Rick said. “What about anyone else?”
Georgia gave him a short list of names of people who had had recently argued with Sebastian or sent him heated emails.
“Let’s talk about what you know of his personal life, if we can,” Rick said, changing tack. “We know he dated regularly though didn’t have a regular partner, and that he also had certain. . .” he paused for effect, “. . . tastes.” Do you know which sites or agencies he frequented?”
Georgia blushed and re-examined the floor again, as though looking for strength. Amanda nodded to Rick and he took the hint. He stood. “Excuse me a moment, please. I need to make a call.” Extracting his phone from his pocket, he left the room, leaving Amanda to take over.
“Please, Georgia,” she said, “anything, no matter how small, could help find Sebastian’s killer. What was his favourite agency?”
A fresh tear slid down Georgia’s cheek and she dabbed it with her already wet tissue. “There was one, well, a couple actually. I think he regularly fell out with them, the agencies, I mean. Some girls didn’t provide exactly what he’d requested and things could get heated between the agency and Sebastian. I often smoothed the waters for him.”
“I’ll need the names of the agencies, and the women, if you know who they were.”
Georgia nodded. “I’ll write them down for you in a minute. I’ll have to look a couple of them up.” Thinking again, she added, “I think he had a booking the night he was killed. I’m pretty sure I saw something.” Realisation set in again and her hand flew to her mouth. “You don’t think it could have been one of the women?”
“As Detective Black said earlier, we’re looking at all angles. Can you think of anyone or anything else that has maybe been a little out of the ordinary recently? Maybe someone from the past popping up, someone in the building acting suspiciously, or hanging around his usual haunts? I believe he liked to have lunch in The Lowry regularly—maybe he’d mentioned something or someone?”
Georgia was once again quiet in thought. She shook her head ‘no.’
Rick re-entered the room quietly and apologised for his absence. Amanda moved her head from side to side ever so slightly, just enough for Rick to get the message.
“Well, you’ve been extremely helpful, Georgia. Thanks for your time. If you could get us the names before we leave, that would be great,” Amanda said, smiling. “And here’s my card, just in case you think of anything else. And like I say, no matter how small, it could be useful.”
Georgia managed a slight smile in return and got up to leave the room and get the names. While she was gone, Rick filled Amanda in on what Duncan had found out with the CCTV camera footage. Jack had apparently spotted a woman later that night on other footage who looked to be dressed identically to the woman seen leaving the building, though her hair was different. She was wearing the same dress and the same distinctive scarf with what looked to be a large red poppy printed on it. He opened his tablet and showed Amanda the footage. He paused the video; the woman’s form filled the screen, though her face was still not visible.
“Looks like it could have been a disguise after all, not a long-haired woman at all,” he concluded. “So now we have something a bit more concrete to follow up on. They are trying to trace all her movements that night via the cameras, see where she ended up or get a clear image of her face, but it seems the woman we’re looking for has short hair, not long like the person who entered the building that night.”
Georgia entered the room again as Rick was finishing his last sentence. She carried with her a list of names, all typed out neatly on a single sheet of paper, and placed it on the table in front of Rick. She peered at the tablet screen.
“Is that someone of interest?” she asked. “A shame it’s so blurry. It could be anyone. Nice scarf, though.”
“Thank you, Georgia,” Rick said neutrally, avoiding the question. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“Anything to help out. I hope you catch the person that did this, and soon. I know Sebastian wasn’t liked by all but he didn’t deserve to die either. Let me show you both out.”
As the three of them walked back to the lift, Rick spoke to Amanda in a hushed voice.
“And it looks like we might have a lead on one of the two vet clinics.”
His conversation wasn’t hushed enough. Georgia’s ears pricked up. Something clicked inside her head.
Chapter Sixty-Four
It had been a stressful day and Georgia felt like she was existing in a complete daze. First the realisation that her boss, no matter how awkward he could be, had been murdered, then dealing with the fallout from that as well as the police knocking about and looking into his life, from all angles. She was worn out both mentally and physically and there was no sign of the pressure letting up anytime soon.
She grabbed her bag and headed for the lift, feeling the need suddenly for some fresh air. She hoped the two detectives were gone from the vicinity completely because she just couldn’t be bothered to talk to anyone else right now, never mind the authorities. The lift pinged its arrival and she stepped inside, keeping her head down until she alighted at the lobby. A cool breeze blew in from the open front doors, making her lift her head. The lobby seemed unusually bright, the marble and brass gleaming in the afternoon sunshine, but the way the building was positioned, it sometimes caught the stiff breeze that blew. In winter it was never welcome, but on a sunny day with so much stress on her shoulders, it most definitely was.
Georgia headed for the coffee shop just around the corner, the one where she’d met up with Philippa. Was it really only a few days ago? A booth at the back was free and she slid along the leather into the corner and rested her back across it, half on the wall, half on the leather backing. She was sorely tempted to swing her legs up in front of her and catch forty winks, but as she let her eyes close for a moment, a voice interrupted her.
“What can I get you?” She slowly raised her eyelids. It was a hovering waitress with her hair all piled up in a donut-shaped bun on the top of her head. For a moment, she said nothing, but stared at the neatly tucked hairdo.
“Are you okay?” asked the waitress.
“Do you serve alcohol in here?” Georgia asked.
“We do. We have wine and beer.”
“In that case, I’ll have a lite beer, in a tall glass please. Do you have Sol?
“One Sol coming up,” said the waitress, and she slipped away, leaving Georgia to close her eyes again.
When she heard the glass being put down in front of her, she kept her eyes firmly shut, thinking back to recent events and the bits that had clunked into place a short time ago. Thoughts of coffee had gone out of the window when she’d entered the booth, but thoughts of Philippa and their recent ‘chance’ meeting hadn’t. Had she planned to enter Georgia’s life again, or had that really been a coincidence? Had the detective said their person of interest had short hair and not a long wig as they might have first thought? Then there was the mention of a vet clinic to follow up on. The three things glowed in her mind like flashing red lights at a railway crossing. On, off, on, off. Was there another explanation? If so, why hadn’t Philippa been back in touch herself? She was bound to have heard the reports of Sebastian’s death on the news and online, yet nothing. Georgia found that odd, now she thought more about it. Rummaging in her bag, she found the card the female detective had given her and stared at it for a moment, then tapped it thoughtfully on the table in front of her, the sharp edge of the card hitting the glass table top crisply. Tapping the card with one hand, she picked up her beer with the other and took a long gulp, the cool bitter liquid massaging her parched throat and filling her with renewed energy. One long gulp quickly turned
into an empty glass and she topped it up from the remainder in the bottle, which she sipped slowly until it was all gone. Staring at the remaining creamy foam that clung to the top of the glass, she suspected she held the key to cracking the investigation open—but was she right, or just imagining it? It seemed Georgia might just know who the killer was.
Chapter Sixty-Five
The next day was filled with much of the same: questions from all angles about all areas of Sebastian’s life and death from all kinds of people, some official, some plain nosey, and she’d had enough. The end of the day couldn’t have come soon enough, and Georgia and her colleagues were glad to finally leave that evening.
“Who’s for a quick drink before home? Anyone?” asked Sandra, one of the other PAs, flicking back her lovely bouncy curls. Georgia was tempted, but waited for a response from the others before committing herself. It seemed everyone wanted to get as far away from the place as soon as possible, and who could blame them? Sandra was thin on acceptances.
“Might get a burger just after ….?” Sandra used her sing-song voice, not wanting to drink on her own.
Oh, what the hell, thought Georgia. She had nothing else better to do and she was up for a glass of wine. “Count me in. I could kill for a glass of Sav right now, and then some.”
“Excellent!” Sandra cheered. “Can I tempt anyone else?” There were plenty of head-shakes as they filed into the lift; no one else seemed keen. Sandra turned to Georgia. “Looks like you and me, kiddo. Where do you fancy?”
“Don’t care. The closest probably, then on from there. After this shitty week, I might really push the boat out and get smashed. Couldn’t tell you when I last did that.”
“My kind of girl!” Sandra high-fived Georgia, a huge grin stretching across her face. “Stick with me, then. We’ll have a great night, and I know just where to start!”