Silent Crimes

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Silent Crimes Page 24

by MICHAEL HAMBLING


  Chapter 36: Three Dinner Dates

  Saturday Evening

  Judy Price had met Russell Poulter several times during the previous week, after bumping into him at Taunton police station where they’d both gone to finalise their statements. They’d started talking and something clicked. They’d shared a coffee and had then enjoyed a second evening in a pub in Weston, near to where Judy lived. This was their first visit to a proper restaurant, this time in Bath, close to where Russell lived. In fact, it was the very restaurant that had hosted Russell’s ill-fated date with the thunderously angry Catherine Templeton.

  Judy was feeling happy and relaxed, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. As indeed it had, with that bloody Tim Brotherton facing possible prosecution for conspiracy and the whole, sorry mess of her relationship with him finally put to rest. She looked across the table at Russell. He seemed like a decent guy — reliable, honest, considerate and eager to please. The detectives had all been full of praise for him when she’d asked what he was like. It was about time she found someone sensible to settle down with. Maybe this was him at last, the elusive man that she’d always known she ought to be looking for, rather than the arrogant, thoughtless and self-centred idiots she’d too easily taken up with in the past. She watched him as he tucked into his plate of lasagne. He wasn’t pretentious. He didn’t brag or boast. He didn’t try to impress her with tales of his exploits. He didn’t try to dominate the conversation but really listened to what she had to say. Judy had even met his mother a few hours earlier when she’d called at his house to collect him. Mrs Poulter had been dropping off some photos of a recent family wedding. Poor Russell had obviously been taken by surprise and looked as though he was praying for the ground to open and swallow him up. Obviously the last thing he wanted was his mother fussing over him in front of his new girlfriend. In fact, Mrs Poulter had been a proper sweetheart, with the same considerate approach to people as her son.

  Suddenly aware he was being observed, Russell smiled and blushed at the same time, and Judy’s heart softened further. What a find. So unlike the secretive and controlling Tim Brotherton.

  Looking Russell in the eye she raised her wineglass. ‘To us.’

  ‘What’s brought this on?’ he asked. ‘Do you want to share it with me?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s hard to pin down, but I feel kind of comfortable with you, you know? Maybe it was meeting your mum earlier. I thought she was lovely. And you’re such a nice guy, Russ. You’re easy to be with, easy to talk to, easy to like. I think I may be a bit tipsy already.’

  He blushed again. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  She laughed. ‘Don’t say anything.’

  Then she leant across the table and kissed him quickly on the lips. She could taste the sauce. Very nice.

  *

  Sophie Allen selected her clothes carefully. Possibly in her younger years she would have chosen black, but recently she’d become all too aware of the way in which it could age someone with her middle-aged skin and pale complexion. She opted for grey: a pair of well-cut grey trousers, and a mottled grey and cream top in an animal-print pattern. A cashmere cardigan, a pair of wedge-heeled sandals, a slate-coloured bag, and she was ready. She picked up her small overnight bag, walked to the car and set off, heading into the evening sun.

  She was ten minutes late in arriving, deliberately so. She’d driven to Dorchester more slowly than usual, enjoying the mild, balmy air and the views of the rolling Dorset countryside. How fortunate she was to be living here. Sometimes she felt as if she were living in heaven.

  Pauline Stopley was already at the restaurant, sitting at a table in a secluded alcove. She was dressed in cream and tan, and looked stunning. Sophie smiled to herself. Surely those were the same leather trousers that Rae had raved about when she’d interviewed Pauline? The former actress rose as Sophie approached and the two women embraced briefly.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you after all this time,’ Pauline said. ‘I’d given up hope of you ever taking me up on my idea of an evening out. You look as cool and elegant as usual. How do you do it, in your job? Oh, congratulations on the promotion, by the way. I guess you’re set for higher things.’

  Sophie smiled. ‘Thanks. If you must know, when it comes to work it’s almost always a case of swan syndrome. You know the one. Looking cool and elegant above the surface but paddling like fury underneath. I haven’t had much of a chance to relax since I got the promotion. It’s all a bit hectic. And as for higher things, well . . . I’ve always wondered about ending my career in academia.’

  Pauline raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Doing what?’

  ‘Criminal psychology, maybe. I’ve often talked about it, but I’m not sure whether I really want to do it. Maybe it’s nothing more than a fantasy.’

  ‘But it sounds great. I’m so impressed. Do you want a drink by the way? I’m just sipping my way through a gin and tonic.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’ Sophie turned, caught the attention of a passing waitress and ordered her own drink. They spent the next few minutes perusing the menu. Pauline seemed to know the relative merits of most of the dishes, so Sophie followed her suggestions.

  ‘This place can’t be far from your flat, Pauline,’ Sophie said.

  ‘No. It’s great. Within easy staggering distance, though it’s a bit too far from Tony’s manse. I don’t bring him here. There are a couple of equally nice places on his side of town. How are your family, by the way?’

  ‘All good. It’s been very quiet at home today. Martin’s out at Arne this evening with some birdwatching friends, doing the annual bat count. They’ll end up in one of the pubs, no doubt. And Jade’s been pottering around in her bedroom, getting ready to go out. I don’t think you’ve met her, have you? Only our elder daughter, Hannah.’

  Pauline frowned and bit her lip. ‘Look, I’m sorry about all that. I have this reckless side to my character and sometimes it gets out of control.’

  Sophie smiled, stretched her hand across the tabletop and placed it on top of Pauline’s. ‘Don’t worry. I have the opposite problem. I’m far too controlled. Probably I’m far too controlling. My brain never seems to stop thinking ahead, scheming. I sometimes wonder if I should be worried about it, that it’s some strange kind of malignancy that doesn’t afflict other people.’

  Their food began to arrive, and conversation switched to the relative merits of the dishes they were tasting, their respective calorie counts and the qualities of various wines.

  ‘You can stay over at mine, if you want,’ Pauline said quietly, almost nervously, as they sipped coffee at the end of the meal. ‘You’ve had quite a lot of wine, don’t you think?’ She looked across at Sophie quizzically.

  ‘Yes, that would be ideal, thanks. I warned Martin I might and brought an overnight bag. I left it in my car. It’s in the public car park at the end of the road.’

  ‘Great. That’s close to my flat.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I chose it.’

  ‘I feel a bit manipulated now.’

  Sophie laughed. ‘That’s me. The arch-manipulator. Just you remember who’s the boss.’

  They settled the bill and left the restaurant. After they’d collected Sophie’s bag from her car, Pauline slipped her arm through Sophie’s and they strolled the hundred yards or so to Pauline’s home.

  *

  George Warrander pulled up outside a low cottage in a quiet side road in Wareham and sat for a few moments before getting out of the car. He was feeling almost sick with anxiety. He glanced at the time, even though he’d checked it every minute since setting out from home. Seven o’clock, bang on time. He sighed. This whole thing was ridiculous. It could only end in disaster. What had he been thinking when he’d first arranged this date? He stood by the car, slowly shaking his head. This was such a bad idea on his part. He heard her footsteps and looked up. Her long dark hair shone in the evening light and her welcoming smile melted his tension away. She looked breath-taking
.

  ‘I saw your car draw up, so I just came straight out. You look a bit tense, George. Are you okay?’

  He returned her smile and his heart began to stop pounding. ‘Yes. I was just feeling a bit nervous. You know, given the situation.’

  She smiled again, this time more mischievously. ‘I sort of understand. But, hey, we only get one chance at life, don’t we? Gotta grab opportunities when they arise, otherwise you’re always left behind in the slow lane.’

  ‘Well, that’s one way of looking at things,’ George said. ‘I’m always a bit slow and cautious, to be honest.’

  ‘Very sensible. Actually, I am too, really. I just say these things to see what effect they’ll have. Shall we get going? It’s only a ten-minute walk from here. Look, I’d love to be able to say that we’ll split the bill, but I really don’t have much money and this place isn’t the cheapest around.’

  ‘We’ve already discussed all this. I said it was okay.’

  ‘I know you did. But can we both pretend that I’m paying my fair share, even though I’m not? That way I won’t feel under any obligation towards you.’

  She put her arm through his as they started to walk towards the town centre.

  He smiled for the first time. ‘In the circumstances, am I likely to try it on with you? I mean, I’d need to be suicidal, wouldn’t I?’

  She giggled. ‘Bloody hell, yes. I’m just so in awe of you for going ahead with it. It reminds me of something I learned in physics about seemingly impregnable energy barriers and how they can sometimes be breached by a small number of random particles. It’s called quantum tunnelling. Maybe that’s what you are. A human quantum tunneller. Breaching barriers no one else would dare to attempt.’

  He looked at her. ‘I just felt something a few weeks ago when we were talking. I felt we kind of connected in some way, and you kept popping back into my head. Look, when I was in my last year at university, I met someone I really liked but I didn’t act on it and she ended up with someone else. I regretted it for ages and kept wondering . . . The someone else turned out to be a vicious psychopath and ended up killing her. I was interviewed as a witness, and that’s why I ended up joining the police.’

  ‘That’s so awful,’ she said. ‘So some good came out of it, despite the tragedy?’ She suddenly stopped walking and turned. ‘Ah, and I can guess who interviewed you. Her. The unmentionable one.’

  George grinned widely. ‘Oh, yes. And I’ve never regretted the decision I took to leave my safe, well-paid job as an economist and join the police. It’s the best thing I’ve done.’

  ‘Second best,’ she quickly replied. ‘You’ve asked me out on a date, remember.’

  They continued to chat amiably as they strolled towards the Indian restaurant. Inside, they settled themselves at the quiet corner table George had asked for when he’d booked. He looked across the table at Jade Allen. She smiled back at him, and it took his breath away. Maybe this was going to work out just fine after all.

  THE END

  THE SOPHIE ALLEN BOOKS

  Book 1: DARK CRIMES

  Book 2: DEADLY CRIMES

  Book 3: SECRET CRIMES

  Book 4: BURIED CRIMES

  Book 5: TWISTED CRIMES

  Book 6: EVIL CRIMES

  Book 7: SHADOW CRIMES

  Book 8: SILENT CRIMES

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  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Several people have helped in the research for this novel, maybe more than they realised.

  Margaret and I had a walking holiday in Somerset two years ago and spent three days on the Quantock Hills. We met up with our friends Jane and Barbie Hamlin, who live in Somerset, at the Dead Woman’s Ditch car park. Some fifteen months later, while staying with them in Somerset, Jane lifted a small book off her shelf and said, ‘This might interest you.’ It was The Abode of Love by Aubrey Menen. I was gobsmacked. I’d just written the scenes about a twenty-first-century commune and here was a detailed account of a religious cult that was set up in the Quantocks in 1846. Jane and Barbie took us into Taunton and also to the main Quantock Hills visitor centre at Fyne Court.

  I also need to mention the help of another friend who spent part of her childhood in the area around the Quantocks. Sylvie’s recollections have been invaluable, usually given over a drink in one or other of Salisbury’s fine pubs.

  It’s lovely to be part of a friendly group of authors. Those of us published by Joffe Books had a get-together just before Xmas 2018. It was great to talk over issues with Janice Frost, Helen Durrant, Joy Ellis, Charlie Gallagher and the rest of the gang. Thanks to the boss, Jasper Joffe, and his team — they’re wonderful. Special thanks go to the editorial team; Anne Derges has done another great job in sharpening up my original text.

  Book1: DARK CRIMES

  http://www.amazon.co.uk/CRIMES-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01B1W9CIG

  http://www.amazon.com/CRIMES-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01B1W9CIG

  A young woman’s body is discovered on a deserted footpath in a Dorset seaside town late on a cold November night. She has been stabbed through the heart.

  It seems like a simple crime for DCI Sophie Allen and her team to solve. But not when the victim’s mother is found strangled the next morning. The case grows more complex as DCI Sophie Allen discovers that the victims had secret histories, involving violence and intimidation. There’s an obvious suspect but Detective Allen isn't convinced. Could someone else be lurking in the shadows, someone savagely violent, looking for a warped revenge?

  BOOK 2 DEADLY CRIMES

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/DEADLY-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01DL5CGRK/

  https://www.amazon.com/DEADLY-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01DL5CGRK/

  A young man’s mutilated body is found on top of the Agglestone, a well-known local landmark on Studland Heath It seems that he was involved in a human trafficking and prostitution gang. But why is DCI Sophie Allen keeping something back from her team? Is it linked to the extraordinary discovery of her own father's body at the bottom of a disused mineshaft, more than forty years after he disappeared?

  Book 3: BURIED CRIMES

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/SECRET-CRIMES-gripping-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01F6FAR06

  https://www.amazon.com/SECRET-CRIMES-gripping-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01F6FAR06

  Two women go away for the weekend, but only one comes back alive. Was it just the music they were into? And who was the man the victim met at the festival?

  DCI Sophie Allen is back in charge after the emotional upheavals she suffered in 'Deadly Crimes,' but is she really in control? And Detective Constable Rae Gregson joins the team and immediately faces challenges that put her life in peril.

  BOOK 4: BURIED CRIMES

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/BURIED-CRIMES-gripping-detective-thriller-ebook/dp/B01I04EMTW/

  https://www.amazon.com/BURIED-CRIMES-gripping-detective-thriller-ebook/dp/B01I04EMTW/

  A family move into their dream home in Dorchester: it seems perfect, particularly for their two children, but when Philip and Jill Freeman move a buddleia bush, what they find buried beneath its roots will haunt them forever.

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  http://www.amazon.co.uk/SECRET-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B00XYMC5GI/

  http://www.amazon.com/SECRET-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B00XYMC5GI/

  Shocking family secrets come to light when a young woman is murdered

  Amy Hill, a nineteen-year-old student, is strangled and her body dumped on open ground in the city. New police partners, D.I. Jim Neal and D.S. Ava Merry are called in to investigate this brutal crime. The last person to see Amy alive was Simon, the son of a family friend, but before he can be properly questioned he disappears.

  Detectives Neal and Merry are led on a trail of shocking family secrets and crimes. Can this duo track down the murderer before anyone else dies? Stopping this tragic cycle of violence will put D.S. Merry’s life at risk in a thrilling and heart-stopping finale.

  If you like Angela Marsons, Rachel Abbott, Ruth Rendell, or Mark Billingham you will be gripped by this exciting new crime fiction writer.

 

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