‘Which was?’
‘A dead pig. On the bed.’
Rosie’s eyes widened. ‘A pig?’
‘A carcass. I’m sorry to be telling you this, Rosie, when you have so much on your plate right now. But this person has been back. This time they posted a note through our letterbox. It’s addressed to you.’
‘Me?’ Rosie squeaked.
‘Well, Mrs David Perfect.’ Mike fished a folded piece of paper from his back trouser pocket. He smoothed it out and pushed it across the table to Rosie.
Rosie took the piece of paper and quickly scanned it. Typed, not handwritten.
I’ve heard about your husband’s demise. Condolences. Unfortunately he owes me a lot of money. Call this number to conclude the matter. Don’t involve the police or the current debt figure will increase by an arm and a leg.
The note ended with a mobile number, but no name or signature.
‘Let me see that,’ Matt took the piece of paper from Rosie. His lips disappeared into a thin line as he read. ‘Well that’s settled it. You’re definitely not staying next door – not until this piece of nasty business is cleared up.’
Karen set the teas on the table before flopping into a chair. ‘You see this sort of thing as a plot in telly dramas, but why do people who have nothing to do with a gambler’s debt end up being threatened? If word got out that this loan shark hurt you or your family, surely nobody would ever do business with him again?’
‘People doing business with loan sharks, darling,’ said Mike, ‘aren’t exactly going to be Googling to see what their reputation is. They do it through addiction or desperation, not as a considered financial decision.’
Matt put down the note. ‘In the UK, gambling debts are not enforceable by the law. They die with the bettor. Any debt Dave had is therefore cancelled.’
‘Hmm,’ Mike rubbed his chin, ‘It doesn’t look like this unsavoury character is seeing it the same way.’
‘Well I’m not having Rosie threatened,’ said Matt. ‘This letter is going to the police.’
Rosie snatched up the note. ‘No, it’s staying with me. Didn’t you read that last line? It’s clearly a threat. I’m not going to the police and risking midnight visits with more dead animals being deposited around the house, or some maniac threatening to cut off one of my arms or legs. I shall call this number right now and resolve the matter.’
At that moment Rosie’s mobile phone shrieked into life, making everybody jump. Clasping Luke tightly to her chest, Rosie leant down and fumbled in the depths of her handbag. One look at the caller display had her paling. Before Rosie could even speak, Hester’s voice was squawking out of the ear piece.
‘My God, Rosie, when were you going to tell me?’ Hester ranted.
‘Mum, I’ve been with the police and not long since come back from the hosp–’
‘Why can’t my own daughter be bothered to tell me about poor Dave’s terrible demise?’ Hester wailed. ‘Instead I have Marjory Johnson, two doors down, regaling me with all the gory details because her daughter happened to be coming out of Patel’s Corner Shop and saw a taxi roar out of nowhere and flatten dear Dave.’ Hester briefly broke off to trumpet into a hanky. ‘I hope you’re going to sue that taxi driver for mowing down a man in his prime, Rosie, and I hope he goes to prison and,’ more noisy trumpeting, ‘ROTS BEHIND BARS!’
‘Mum, it was an accident. Dave had been drinking. He didn’t look before crossing the road.’
‘Huh, drinking! And why?’ Hester demanded. The combination of a great connection and the volume of Hester’s voice meant everybody was up to speed with the conversation. ‘I’ll tell you why, my girl. It’s because you left him! He was a broken man. This is all your fault, Rosie.’
‘Mum, I–’
Suddenly the phone was whipped out of Rosie’s hand.
‘Hello? This is Matt. That’s right, I’m the reprobate that Rosie is staying with at the moment. Your daughter is in a highly distressed state and...sorry, I’m not interested in your distress...you should be supporting Rosie and offering consolation. I see. Actually I couldn’t care less what Marjory Johnson thinks. Yes, I will be taking Rosie back to my love nest. Who do I think I am? Somebody who cares, Hester. Good-bye.’ Matt disconnected the call and handed the mobile back to Rosie. ‘Sorry, but I’m not having you bullied by anybody, and especially not your mother.’
Rosie smiled weakly. ‘At this rate I don’t think my mother is ever going to speak to me again.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Karen snorted, ‘I’m not sure Marjory Johnson would approve of such a thing.’
‘For some bizarre reason,’ Rosie explained to Matt, ‘my mother thought the sun shone out of Dave’s bottom.’
Karen shook her head. ‘Does Hester have any inkling about the mess her son-in-law has left you in?’
‘I did try talking to her about it a little while ago, but she pooh-poohed everything I said. Anyway,’ Rosie gave a resigned sigh, ‘I’ll sort this debt business out myself.’
‘Listen, love,’ Karen touched Rosie’s arm gently, ‘you’re not in the right frame of mind right now. You’re tired and overwrought. Apart from anything else, how the devil would you settle Dave’s debt? Rob a bank?’
‘No need,’ Rosie gave a thin smile that was little more than a grimace. ‘Dave’s life was insured. I’m going to cash in the policy. It’s worth about a hundred thousand pounds.’ She glanced around the table. Three stunned faces looked back at her. ‘And I don’t want anyone trying to stop me.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucy had spent the last four hours trailing around all the department stores. She’d bought everything for the Big Day ages ago, including underwear, but was currently standing at the check-out of an outrageously expensive lingerie shop. On a whim she’d ended up buying a very virginal looking basque. With such a lack of sexual action with Terry, it seemed quite apposite. She’d been unable to resist the lacy corset and felt, in turn, that Terry would be unable to resist her when he saw her in it. Perhaps she’d stay over at his place for one more night and wear it for him later on. Although she had to confess, a part of her had been slightly relieved at Terry’s lack of interest earlier on. She wondered why. Was it because she had lost a little bit of her heart to Gregory Tibor?
Lucy gasped at the very idea. Reaching into her purse for her credit card, she firmly pushed the thought away. Gregory Tibor was bad news. He’d already notched up two marriages, and she’d dared not ask how many relationships he’d had in between. So enough of that. Instead she would continue with her long-term plan to marry the man of her dreams in three weeks. All would be well. She would make it well. Taking her receipt and dropping it into the store’s posh carrier bag, she swung out of the shop door and headed, through the main mall, to the car parking area.
Twenty minutes later, Lucy was sitting in a queue of traffic at a set of red traffic lights. She was only a couple of minutes away from Terry’s place. As she waited for the lights to change, she drummed her fingernails impatiently against the steering wheel, and gazed at the cars in the line ahead. And then her finger tips froze mid-drum. For there, six vehicles in front of her, was Terry’s car. It was idling on a curve in the road, but it wasn’t her fiancé sitting behind the wheel. Instead a woman was in the driver’s seat. Lucy leant forward, straining her eyes to see if she could make out the woman’s features in the driver’s wing mirror. All she could glimpse was a lock of wavy brunette hair. Her eyes shifted to the back of the woman’s head. The hair looked very bouffant, and there was an awful lot of it. Part of it was cascading over the woman’s shoulder, before flowing under the angle of the seat belt. It was the same hair as the woman photographed on Terry’s BlackBerry! Lucy felt her heart rate pick up. Who was this female? And what the devil was she doing driving Terry’s car? And then Lucy had a horrible thought. What if Terry was in the car too and sitting right next to this woman? She craned her neck to see, but the passenger side remained obscured by the other queuing v
ehicles. Well she’d soon find out if he was in the car because…because she’d follow them! And even if Terry wasn’t in the car, she’d follow this bitch anyway! It was confrontation time. Lucy felt her bowels lurch slightly. Oh God, this was awful, but she simply had to know who her love rival was.
The lights changed and the line started to creep forward. Lucy rammed the car into gear. Oh come on everybody! The last thing she wanted was for the lights to swing back to red. Terry’s car came out of the curve in the road revealing itself in its entirety. Lucy could see the whole number plate now, and it was her fiancé’s car. But he wasn’t in it! And then Lucy found herself slamming the brakes on. The driver in front of her had stalled his Micra. Lucy groaned. Oh no, a learner. For heaven’s sake, why did learners have to practice their clutch control on a Sunday? Why couldn’t they stick to snarling up the rush-hour on a Monday morning, along with all the mums on the school run? Lucy ground her teeth as the learner bunny-hopped forward, just as the lights flicked back to red. She was left with no choice but to watch the brunette sail through the lights and disappear from sight.
Terry had had a marvellous few hours while Lucy had been out shopping. After Lucy had stropped out of his house, he’d barely waited a full minute before getting in touch with Tracey. The darling girl had been overjoyed to hear that she should get herself ready for him.
‘You haven’t given me much time, Terry. I’ve only just got out of bed. You know I don’t like you seeing me without make-up.’
‘Don’t be silly, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous to me with or without all that stuff on your face.’
‘Well at least give me ten minutes to put a brush through my hair, and put some lippy on.’
‘Make it five. I want to spend every precious moment with you, angel. You see, I need to talk to you about something…something I’d been hoping to avoid. Unfortunately circumstances mean–’
Tracey gasped. ‘Don’t! I know what you’re going to say. This is going to be the last time, isn’t it?’
Terry had paused, his heart heavy. ‘I can’t lie to you, darling girl, you know I can’t. You know me inside out. I can only ever be honest with you.’
‘Can’t you be like other men? Have your cake and eat it?’
Terry flinched. He didn’t want to be lumped into the same category as those who messed their other halves about. ‘Angel, listen, it’s not what I want. You know that. But I’m getting married in three weeks and, much as I’d love to keep seeing you, I don’t want to get caught out. As it is, Matt saw us at Knole Park.’
Tracey gasped in horror. ‘No! I’m so sorry, darling. Can you depend upon his discretion?’
Terry nodded. ‘I think so. But I don’t want all this ducking and diving anymore. I want to say good-bye to you properly. Lovingly. Memorably. Because I will never, ever, forget you. Do you understand?’
Tracey had started to choke up. ‘Yes,’ she sniffed, ‘of course I understand. Just get yourself over to me. And hurry.’
‘I’m on my way.’
But instead of picking up his car keys, Terry had instead taken himself off to another part of the house. It was one of the many spare rooms in his sprawling home, except this particular bedroom was little more than a box room. He’d paused outside the door for a moment, before gently knocking.
‘Is it okay to come in, darling?’
His question was initially met with silence. And then Tracey replied.
‘What are you waiting for?’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Matt was sitting in an interview room at Holloway Police Station. To his left was Rosie. Seated opposite was a bored looking police officer by the name of PC Plummer. It was almost six o’clock on a Sunday evening, and the copper wanted to go home. Instead he was listening to a sketchy story about a dead husband and a pig carcass. Spread out on the table before them, was the note demanding the deceased’s debt be repaid.
‘What exactly do you expect the police to do, Mr Palmer?’
‘Find the author of this message!’ Matt cried. Good heavens, what was the matter with this cop? He had about as much energy and enthusiasm as a bored shelf stacker at the local Tesco. Although judging by the buttons straining on the cop’s jacket, Matt reckoned the guy spent more time pushing paper around a desk than legging it after criminals.
‘There isn’t an address on it. How can we go and make an arrest?’
‘But you have a phone number,’ Matt stabbed an index finger at the note, ‘right here. Isn’t that something to go on?’
PC Plummer studied the number. ‘The chances are this is a Pay As You Go sim card, which means we won’t be able to trace the person. I’m happy to ring the number myself and see if anybody answers.’
Rosie twitched violently. ‘I don’t want this person knowing we’ve gone to the police.’ She looked at PC Plummer with troubled eyes. ‘It wasn’t my idea to come here. I wanted to handle this my way.’
PC Plummer steepled his fingers together. ‘I don’t think you should let this person intimidate you. If you let me speak to him, he’ll be the one to be intimidated instead. I will also inform him that any debts are cancelled. Those debts ceased when your husband went under the wheels of that taxi.’
‘I don’t think this person gives a fig about the law,’ Rosie said grimly, ‘he wants what he considers to be rightfully his.’
‘And apart from anything else,’ Matt said, ‘there is the threat of violence.’ Matt picked up the note and waggled it about. ‘It says quite clearly if Rosie doesn’t repay the debt, it will increase by an arm and a leg – and I don’t think the author of this note is wanting donations of gloves and legwarmers. It’s quite obvious he means business.’
‘So I’ll ask again, Mr Palmer. Other than what I’ve suggested, what else do you expect the police to do?’
‘You could start with providing Rosie with the assurance of police protection.’
‘What, like a bodyguard?’
‘Why not!’
‘Mr Palmer, our police resources are stretched to breaking point. With the greatest respect, Mrs Perfect is not a celebrity. And I strongly suspect that if anybody was truly going to get nasty, they’d have done it straight away, without popping a joint of pork under the duvet.’
‘So you’re not going to attempt to flush him out, Officer Plummer?’
There was an uneasy moment while the copper looked at Matt with narrowed eyes. Rosie was the first to break the silence. ‘Look, Matt, we’ve done this your way and it’s quite apparent there is nothing the police can do.’ She scraped back her chair and stood up wearily.
‘I think it’s a poor show when a vulnerable young woman, with a little kid, is left to deal with a thuggish loan shark,’ said Matt. He followed Rosie’s lead and stood up too.
PC Plummer shrugged. ‘The only other thing I can recommend is that you get in touch with the Illegal Money Lending Team.’
‘Who are they?’ Rosie asked.
‘They’re a specialist Trading Standards group set up to combat loan sharks, but as I said,’ PC Plummer hauled himself up and scratched his bottom absent-mindedly, ‘our hands are tied.’
‘Thanks for the tip,’ said Matt. ‘We’ll get in touch with them.’ He put a guiding hand around Rosie’s shoulders and steered her towards the exit.
‘Good luck,’ said PC Plummer as they made their way down the corridor and back into the main reception area of the police station. ‘But don’t go doing anything heroic, eh?’
Matt gave the cop a thin smile. His brain was already forming a plan. But first, he needed to drive Rosie back to Karen’s and collect baby Luke.
A quarter of an hour later and Matt’s BMW once again turned into Rosie’s street. As Matt signalled and pulled over into a space, he glimpsed Karen peering anxiously out of a downstairs bay window. Her face looked white and strained. She moved away from the bay, and seconds later the front door opened. Karen glanced anxiously up and down the street as Rosie pushed open the garden gate and walked
up the path.
‘Is everything all right?’ asked Rosie. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘Not a ghost,’ Karen muttered, ‘but something just as scary.’
Rosie’s brow knitted together. ‘Is Luke okay?’
‘Yes, he’s fine. Fast asleep on the sofa,’ Karen assured, ‘and there’s loads of pillows around him so don’t worry, he can’t fall off. Just hurry up and come in,’ she ushered them both into the hall.
‘What’s happened now?’ asked Matt, wiping his feet and shutting the door behind him.
Mike appeared in the hallway. ‘Hello, guys. The shark has paid another visit.’
Matt stopped dead in his tracks. ‘He’s been in here?’
‘Not inside, but he posted this through our letterbox.’ Mike held up a piece of paper. ‘He must have been watching your place earlier, Rosie, and seen you come in here. The note isn’t in an envelope, so we’ve read it. Evidently he followed you from here to the police station and then hot footed back here with this note, because he knows you’ve been talking to the Old Bill.’ Mike’s face looked grim. ‘And Mr Shark isn’t happy.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
No more than ten minutes had elapsed since Lucy had seen the mysterious brunette. She shot through the gates to Terry’s place and bounced along the lengthy, meandering driveway. Ahead she could see Terry’s car. It had been parked, almost carelessly, outside the house. Nobody appeared to be in the vehicle. Lucy screeched to a halt, tyres spraying gravel everywhere. Wrenching the key fob from the ignition, she grabbed her handbag and shopping before flinging open the driver’s door. That woman couldn’t be far away, and Lucy was going to find her!
Hastening to the front door, Lucy leant on the doorbell. Terry had never given her a key to his house, and now Lucy understood why. Clearly her fiancé hadn’t wanted to take the chance that she might turn up out of the blue, let herself into the house and surprise Terry while he was with his floozy. Huh! Well, key or no key, she’d caught him out. Lucy’s heart seemed to have relocated to her ears. It was beating so loudly she couldn’t hear the door chimes ringing inside the house. She removed her hand from the doorbell and instead took to the doorknocker.
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