I also noticed, lying in close proximity to Grahame’s body, were pieces of a shattered mobile phone - the SIM card was not amongst the debris.
What could be on Grahame’s phone that someone did not want to be discovered?
On the coffee table, there were two wine glasses set next to a half-empty bottle of Merlot. I picked up one of the glasses for closer inspection - the rim was smudged with pale pink lipstick. I assumed that Grahame must have been entertaining his girlfriend in this room.
Was she a witness or the culprit?
Given her description it seemed unlikely a petite woman could be strong enough to overpower and inflict those kind of injuries on Grahame, but I wasn’t ready to rule the girlfriend out, not until I tracked her down and got her story. She could have had a partner in crime, and this had been their plan all along. But why? To what end? I scratched my head. And if she was innocent, where the Hell was she? And if she had managed to escape the killer, then why hadn’t she reported the crime to the police?
I tried to imagine how events may have unfurled that fateful night.
The villain arrived at the house, broke in from the rear of the property, came into the lounge, surprised the “lovey-dovey” couple, who were relaxing on the sofa in the evening, drinking wine. Maybe the petite blonde screamed, one or two hits would’ve subdued her, and then the murderer proceeded to beat Grahame to a pulp. Grahame, bruised and battered, trying to scramble away, terrified enough to wet himself, collapsed before the fireplace. The murderer, not quite satisfied, saw the pokers, took one, came to stand over his victim, and swung and swung.
As I scanned the room for the second time, something glittered and caught my eye. The item was on the floor by the sofa. I went over, crouched down and picked up a golden brooch, decorated with diamonds. The brooch had a delicate, distinct and expensive-looking butterfly design.
Surely this must belong to I.A., and it must have come off during the course of the evening. The piece of jewellery gave me some insight into the mysterious woman.
I decided to pocket the brooch, left the room and went out into the hall. From there, I conducted a search of the house.
Returning to the hall, after exploring every room, I felt disappointed at finding nothing but elegant rooms full of furniture draped in dust sheets. As I picked up the receiver of the old-fashioned, rotary telephone, I noticed a shallow, teal-coloured ceramic bowl, which was positioned beside the phone, and dropped inside the bowl was a set of car keys with a Fiat symbol.
Replacing the receiver, I picked up the keys, unbolted the heavy front door and went outside and unlocked Grahame’s car. I sat in the driver’s seat, turned on the sat-nav and looked up the log for recently found addresses. There were three entries. I took out my mobile and took a picture of them.
I went back inside the house and used the phone in the hall to call 999.
‘There’s a dead body at Huxley House, if you’re interested.’ And then I hung up.
I purposely kept it short and sweet, didn’t want to leave my name and I wasn’t going to wait around for them to show up either. I switched off the light in the lounge and left the house the pretty much the same way as I had found it.
As I drove away from Huxleys the heavens opened and rain poured down.
When I got back to the hotel the storm was still raging on but the humidity still hung uncomfortably in the air. I went up to my room, chucked my stuff in my bag and then checked out, shooting the receptionist a cheeky wink as I departed.
Inside my car, I decided to make the call that I had been dreading ever since the moment I’d discovered Grahame’s body. I dialled the number and three rings later she answered.
‘Hello Rachel. Is it alright to talk?’ I asked.
‘I was wondering when I would hear from you.’
‘There’s been some new developments on the case.’
‘You’ve found him!’
‘Yes...in a manner of speaking.’ As soon as I said it, I regretted saying it.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Is he alright?’ Then she repeated, rather exasperatedly. ‘Fred, tell me he’s alright.’
How can I break the news to her without breaking her heart? I thought. What am I doing? I can’t tell her that Grahame is dead over the phone. I needed to do this face-to-face.
‘You’d better come by my office. I’m leaving Combe Martin now, so...’ I checked the time, ‘...I should be back by 6 o’clock, at the latest. I’ll let you know as soon as I get there.’
‘I-I don’t think I can wait that long. Please, just tell me he’s alright.’
‘Its best we speak in person.’
I heard nothing on the line for a while. It got up to a point that I was starting to think either we had been disconnected or that she had hung up, when she uttered the single syllable, ‘Fine.’ And she terminated the call.
As I was driving along the High Street, a police car sped by going in the opposite direction, I realised that I had another lengthy drive ahead of me, and I could use that time to work out how I was going to handle this delicate situation with Rachel, but I knew that regardless of whatever I said or how I said it, this was only going to end one way.
Chapter 10
It had rained all the way back to the city, and it was still raining when I arrived outside my office in Paddington, but the inescapable heat remained in the air.
I paralleled parked between a Mercedes and Range Rover. As I was going down the stairs to my office, I happened to look up and caught sight of a figure climbing out of a black Porsche across the road. It was Rachel.
She wore a belted, green trench coat and knee-high, dark brown, leather boots. Her hair was loose and getting wet in the rain but she didn’t seem to care about that, there was only one thing she cared about.
I stopped halfway down the stairs, as I watched Rachel run across the road.
‘Fred!’ Rachel called out to me, grabbing the iron railing with both hands and leaning over the spikes to speak to me below. ‘Where’s Grahame?’
‘Let’s get out of this rain.’ She didn’t move, just stared down at me not saying anything. ‘Come inside, and I’ll tell you everything.’
I carried on down the stairs and entered my office. Rachel obediently followed me inside. She stood behind the customer seat, gripping the back of it and biting her bottom lip hard. I went behind my desk and took out a bottle of whisky and two glass tumblers, pouring a generous helping of the liquid into both.
‘Here, you better have this.’ I handed her one of the tumblers.
She shook her head, glaring at me.
‘Suit yourself.’ I downed mine and then hers. I needed a stiff drink after that drive.
Rachel stated pointedly, ‘I’ve been waiting out there since you called.’ I believed her. She wasn’t going to make this any easier for me. ‘I don’t want to wait any longer.’
‘Have a seat,’ I said, gesturing to the chair in front of her, which she was still gripping the back of, so tightly that she had white knuckles.
‘I don’t want to sit down.’
‘You might want to for this.’
‘Stop treating me like a fucking child and tell me!’ She snapped. Rachel’s sudden burst of anger immediately subsided and she began pleading with me, almost begging, ‘I’m so sorry, Fred, but please just tell me, I don’t think I can go on not knowing for another second. It’s driving me crazy. Whatever it is, trust me, I can handle it.’
‘I found Grahame, down in Combe Martin, but I’m afraid it was too late…’
‘What are you saying?’ Rachel interrupted.
‘Rachel, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Grahame is dead.’
On hearing the news, she just stood there in silence, blankly staring at me with a frozen expression on her beautiful face, which slowly transformed into one of shock mixed with some element of confusion.
‘He’s dead? Dead?’ Rachel was almost questioning it, like it could not be physically possible. That
Grahame was the only man on Earth who could defy the laws of nature and never die. That he was somehow immortal.
‘I’m sorry, Rachel.’
‘He’s dead,’ she repeated slowly, to herself.
She asked, with tears brimming in her green eyes, as the reality of Grahame’s demise began to set in, ‘How did he die?’
‘I’ve contacted the police and they will conduct an investigation into his death.’
‘What? Are you telling me he was murdered?’ I nodded sombrely. ‘Did you mention me to the police?’ Her unexpected question caught me off guard.
‘Uh...no, in fact, I didn’t stick around.’ I explained, ‘I found Grahame’s body inside Huxley House, from the looks of things, the murderer broke in and they fought...’ I saw no point going into greater detail, it would only upset her, but I did wonder if mentioning the Kingsley’s family estate would get a reaction from her. I wasn’t disappointed.
Rachel gasped and then covered her mouth with a trembling hand, uttering breathlessly, ‘No, no, no, no, no.’ She turned her back to me and I thought I heard her say, ‘Oh my God.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about the place? Huxley House?’ I asked. She didn’t looked at me. ‘You must’ve made the link when I mentioned Combe Martin?’
‘I-I...I’ve never been there.’
‘Why are you lying to me, Rachel?’
She shouted at me, ‘How dare you accuse of me of that! Why on Earth would I lie about such a thing?’
I took out the photograph I’d taken from Grahame’s flat and handed it to her.
She looked at the picture and then quietly admitted, ‘Yes, I know about Huxleys, but it was such a long time ago, when we went there, I-I forgot…’ Her speech was defeated by tears brought on by looking at the photograph of the two of them together.
I felt perhaps I had been a little too harsh, maybe it had genuinely slipped her mind. I moved out from behind my desk and went towards her. I took her in my arms to comfort her, letting her cry into my shoulder. I smelt the faintest scent of coconut on her damp hair. She kept repeatedly saying between her sobs, ‘This is all my fault.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, then reassured her, ‘Rachel, you couldn’t have prevented this from happening.’
Rachel stopped crying and lifted her head from my shoulder and looked searchingly into my eyes. We were face-to-face for one unforgettable moment. I couldn’t help admiring her, even when she cried she remained beautiful. I was enchanted by her, so much so it blinded me. Then she kissed me. It was a hard and cold kiss, clearly void of all feeling on her side, but I didn’t let that prevent me from kissing her back.
How could any man resist her? I thought. Whether it was right or wrong to take advantage of Rachel in her vulnerable state was something I’d think about tomorrow not now.
Rachel tilted her head back and closed her eyes as I began tenderly kissing her neck. I was so caught up in my own excitement that I didn’t hear her speak.
‘Stop,’ Rachel moaned out and then again, more firmly, ‘Stop.’ She pressed both hands against my chest and pushed me away from her.
We stared at each other, saying nothing until she turned her head and looked over at the windows.
‘Forgive me, that was a mistake,’ Rachel spoke quietly, regaining masterful control over her emotions. She aggressively wiped her at eyes and then stated, turning her head back to me, but not being quite able to meet my eyes, ‘I have to go now.’ With that she fled my office, and as much as I wanted to, I didn’t try to stop her. I was left standing there, feeling a confusing mixture of arousal, disappointment, frustration, regret and hope.
I crossed the room and slumped down on the couch, suddenly overcome with tiredness. I had only closed my eyes for what must have been 30 seconds when I was roused by the sound of knuckles rapping on the window.
I opened my eyes and lifted my head to see the person entering my office. What kind of person had the audacity to enter my office at this hour, I thought.
It was Ameera. She was wearing a very short, red dress that clung to her body in all the right places.
‘I never got a reply,’ Ameera sulkily put, pouting her bright red lips.
My hand flew to my forehead as I realised I hadn’t responded to her message that she sent yesterday. Clearly her pride had been wounded but not enough to prevent her from coming down. I was pleased to see her. I was still feeling horny from Rachel’s kiss and found myself in need of a body to use.
‘I’m sorry, I forgot, I was working a case,’ I explained truthfully.
‘You were working a case,’ Ameera responded quickly, folding her arms. ‘That seems to be your excuse for everything.’
I shrugged. I felt like saying “take it or leave it” but I knew if I did I wasn’t going to get inside her pants, so I held my tongue and just looked at her, waiting for her to make the next move, which she did.
Ameera unfolded her arms and sat down on the couch, very close to me, kicked off her black high heels, and then neatly tucked her legs underneath her. She put a hand on my chest and let it suggestively slide slowly downwards.
‘I saw your latest case.’ Ameera nibbling on my earlobe. ‘Who is she?’
‘Who?’ I deliberately played dumb.
‘The woman running out of here, crying her eyes out.’ She kissed my cheek. ‘Did you break her heart too?’
‘She’s a client,’ I stated flatly, turning to kiss her on the lips. ‘She means nothing to me.’
‘She’s very beautiful. Don’t you think so?’ Ameera had her hand on my belt buckle.
‘Not as beautiful as you.’
She straddled me. ‘You know exactly what to say.’ Unbuckled, she whipped off my belt in one smooth motion. ‘But do you mean it?’ Ameera held the belt, stretched out before her, and bit down hard on the leather, eyes baring into mine.
She tossed the belt across the room and we began passionately kissing on the couch. When she allowed me to breathe, I said, ‘I don’t have any condoms.’
She laughed and then purred seductively, ‘I need you, Fred.’ Ameera kissed me again. ‘So badly. So, so badly.’ She grabbed me roughly by the throat and demanded, ‘Tell me you want me too.’
I grabbed her by the waist and with the quick turning of my body, managed to manoeuvre her down on the sofa, climbing on top of her and kissing her passionately. I unzipped her dress and she unbuttoned my shirt. She wore a black bra and matching thong. Ameera unhooked her bra herself and threw it on the floor. She pushed me up to a kneeling position, whilst she lay on her back on the couch, with her perfect feet on my lap. I noticed she had painted her toenails red, the same shade as her dress.
‘Just watch me.’ Ameera ran her hand down her front, cupping her right breast and pushing it up, before moving her splayed fingers down further. She started to openly masturbate whilst never taking her eyes off of me. I couldn’t help admiring her confidence. When she was nearing climax, she closed her eyes, arched her back and gave a low moan of ecstasy.
‘Frreeeeddddddd,’ Ameera stretched out my name, calling me to her. Slowly crawling, I tenderly kissed parts of her body, moving upwards, until I reached her mouth. She sensually sucked the tip of the finger that had been inside of her and then placed it upon my lips. I kissed the finger and let my hand go down to where hers had been. Ameera closed her eyes again, body fully arched and her voice had been reduced to a mere whisper, ‘Yes, that’s it. Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.’
I quickly took off my jeans, tugged down my boxers and laid on top of her nubile body. My erection pressed up against her inner thigh. Her eyes were now wide open, we were kissing and she had both of her hands clawed around the nape of my neck.
‘Do it.’ I needed no further encouragement. I entered Ameera, hard, and she let out a short, pleasurable scream. I began thrusting deeper and harder than I ever had done before with her. I had her biting down hard on her bottom lip. ‘Fred, Fred, Fred.’ She wrapped her legs around my body, her hands mov
ed from my back to my buttocks, pressing me down. I had my cheek against hers, my face buried in her long, dark hair, it smelt like coconut. I closed my eyes and imagined that it was Rachel sprawled underneath me. My thrusts became faster. Sweat began to drip off my body with the mounting exertion. My toes curled inward and my whole body tensed up as the pleasure became too much to control.
‘FRED!’ Ameera shouted as I exploded inside her.
I found myself panting uncontrollably, exhausted but extremely satisfied. It took me a little while to recover, pulled out and looked at her face. I saw the fire remained in her eyes. I resisted the urge to kiss her right then, it was too intimate for what we were.
I rolled off her and we passed minutes in silence, spooning on the couch, listening to the soothing sound of the relentless rain beat against the window panes.
Chapter 11
I was woken by the familiar sound of my mobile ringing. When I opened my eyes I realised I’d fallen asleep on the sofa. Ameera was gone. I looked over at the clock on the wall. It was a five minutes past eight. I groaned. I went to move when I discovered that the relentless heat during the night had made my naked skin stick to the couch’s leather cover. I groaned for the second time that morning and then began carefully prying myself off the couch, took my mobile out of my jean pocket and blindly answered the call.
‘Yeah?’ I started gruffly.
‘Fred?’ I recognised the voice instantly.
‘Rachel.’
‘I wanted to apologise for what happened last night.’ I had no doubt in my mind that she was referring to the kiss. ‘I’m so embarrassed. I can only think that it was the shock of…’ Rachel trailed off, ‘...well, of everything.’
‘No apology necessary.’
I detected a slight hesitation before she spoke again, ‘There was another reason why I’ve called you.’
The Hollow Woman Page 6