by D. S. Butler
‘You probably do, but we have some questions to ask you in the meantime,’ Karen said. ‘If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about.’
He paused with his hand halfway to his pocket. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘We have a witness who identifies you as the man dining with Natasha Layton on Monday evening. We would like to know the nature of your relationship.’ Karen kept her gaze fixed on Ryan.
‘The nature of our relationship?’ He raked a hand through his hair. He was sweating. ‘Look, I know this probably looks bad, but what happened to Natasha has nothing to do with me. You’ve got the wrong man.’
‘Again, we have a witness. We know it was you at the restaurant with Natasha.’
‘All right, all right,’ Ryan said, putting his hands up. ‘Yes, I did have dinner with Natasha on Monday. She was going through some tough times and I was talking to her.’
‘Just talking, Mr Blake?’ Karen asked.
Ryan’s features tightened. ‘Yes, just talking. She was a lonely young woman and she needed some guidance.’
‘So you were guiding her. Would you mind explaining exactly what that means?’
Ryan’s face flushed. ‘She was having some trouble with her parents. They didn’t accept the fact that she was grown-up, that she was an adult. We got talking on a couple of occasions when she was here visiting Cressida, and, well, we found we had a lot in common.’
‘You had a lot in common with seventeen-year-old Natasha Layton?’ Karen asked, emphasising the age.
‘Yes, she was much more mature than you might think,’ he snapped.
‘Were you having a relationship with her?’
‘That depends what you mean by “relationship”, doesn’t it?’
‘Were you having an affair? Were you sleeping together?’
‘That’s none of your business! Look, she was seventeen years old. That’s not illegal.’
‘So what happened?’ Karen asked. ‘Did she threaten to tell someone about the affair? Or maybe she asked you to leave your wife? Did you get angry and lash out? Maybe you didn’t even mean to hurt her.’
Ryan looked aghast. ‘No, it wasn’t me. I could never have hurt Natasha. I’m not a violent person. You have to believe me.’
‘That’s difficult for us to do, Mr Blake,’ Morgan said, ‘since you lied to us once before.’
‘You know why I didn’t come forward with all the details about me and Natasha. It would have looked terrible. I would have been top of your suspect list. Look, I could have called my solicitor and refused to talk to you now, but I was honest. That has to count for something.’
‘It does,’ Morgan said. ‘It tells us you’re prepared to tell the truth when it suits you.’ He stood up. ‘Ryan Blake. I’m arresting you for the murder of—’
‘No!’ the man roared, pushing past Morgan, trying to get out of the room.
He knocked into the coffee table, sending a porcelain vase tumbling to the floor. The carpet broke its fall, stopping it smashing into pieces. The only damage was a single crack along the length of the vase.
As Morgan restrained Ryan Blake and put him in handcuffs, the man howled. ‘Do you know how expensive that vase was? It’s a priceless heirloom from Jasmine’s family,’ he spat.
‘Then you shouldn’t have tried to run away, should you?’ Karen said as Morgan led him out of the living room.
As they walked towards the front door, Ryan broke down in sobs, but Karen didn’t feel any sympathy for him at all. It was lucky for him his wife and daughter weren’t here.
‘We haven’t had the full post-mortem results back yet,’ she said. ‘Are we going to have any surprises?’
Ryan stopped crying for a moment and looked up. ‘What do you mean?’ he sniffed.
‘Are we going to discover Natasha was pregnant? Is that why you killed her?’
His eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously. ‘No, I didn’t kill her. Please, you have to believe me. My wife isn’t going to find out, is she?’
‘All this time, we thought you were being protective of Cressida,’ Karen said, ‘but actually you were looking after yourself, Mr Blake. Making sure your secret didn’t come to light.’
‘No, you’ve got it all wrong,’ Ryan said, dissolving into yet more self-pitying sobs.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Back at the station, after Ryan Blake was processed, they gave him some time to collect himself. As he was talking with his solicitor, Sophie, Rick, Morgan and Karen discussed the case in the main office.
Karen leaned back in her chair, thoughtful. ‘You know, something about this is bothering me.’
‘Do you think we’ve got it wrong, Sarge?’ Sophie asked. ‘You don’t think Ryan Blake killed her?’
Karen frowned and shook her head. ‘I don’t know. The restaurant owner positively identified Mr Blake, and Ryan has admitted to having a relationship with Natasha, but I’m not sure he’s telling us the truth about everything.’
‘I agree,’ Sophie said, wheeling over a chair. ‘I wonder how old Natasha was when this relationship started.’
Rick perched on the edge of Karen’s desk. ‘What if Ryan had something to do with Chidlow’s recordings?’
‘That’s a possibility,’ Morgan said. ‘We’ll ask him about that during questioning.’
Morgan was standing but leaning over Karen’s desk, sketching out details on a pad and planning the interview strategy.
Karen fiddled with the pen on her desk, trying to work out the puzzle. Ryan Blake was a gift-wrapped suspect. Wanting to keep his affair with Natasha secret was a strong motive, so why didn’t she believe they’d uncovered the whole story?
‘So, what is it that’s bothering you, Sarge?’ Rick asked, turning to Karen.
‘It’s Ella Seaton,’ Karen said. ‘I don’t understand how she fits into all of this, but I’m sure she does somehow.’
Sophie looked up, resting her chin on her interlinked fingers. ‘Do you think Ryan Blake had a thing with Ella as well?’ She looked at Karen doubtfully.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Karen said. ‘Ella’s an unusual girl. She observes rather than participates. I don’t think she’s been in a relationship with anyone.’
‘There’s the teacher’s death too. Miss King. Maybe she found out something about Ryan and Natasha, and Ryan killed her?’ Rick said, rubbing his chin.
Karen nodded, mulling it over. ‘The two deaths could well be related. I think I’ll check in with Ella and see how she’s doing. She should be home by now.’
Sophie wheeled her chair back to her own desk to make the remaining calls to the women in the videos. Rick went with Morgan to his office to help with the interview questions, and Karen picked up her desktop telephone and called Ella’s mobile number.
There was no answer, so she tried Ella at home, but again there was no reply.
She checked the file for any other contact details they had for Ella Seaton, and located Ella’s mother’s mobile number, but the mobile was switched off and she got a recorded message.
Karen frowned. This didn’t make sense. Where was Ella? Concerned, she dialled the number she had for Ella’s aunt.
The phone was answered on the third ring. ‘Hello.’
‘Is that Millie?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Who’s this?’
‘This is DS Karen Hart. I dropped Ella off at your house—’
‘Oh yes, I remember.’
‘I’m trying to get in touch with Ella. Has she gone home with her parents?’
‘No,’ Millie said. ‘They were supposed to land this morning, but their flight was delayed again, so they’re not getting back until this evening.’
‘Oh, I see. Could I talk to her?’
‘She’s not here at the moment.’
‘She’s gone out?’
‘Yes, about half an hour ago. She said she was meeting a friend in Lincoln. She mentioned the Bailgate Deli, near the castle.’
Karen
thanked Millie and hung up. When she replaced the handset, she noticed Sophie was pale. She had her phone clamped to her ear and she was grimacing.
Karen waited until she’d hung up, then asked, ‘Who was that?’
‘Mrs Blake. She’s very upset and demanded to know what was going on with her husband.’
‘Did you tell her?’
‘I said her husband was arrested in connection with the death of Natasha Layton. She was quiet for a moment, then began ranting and raving. Understandable really. This must have come as a terrible shock.’
Karen wondered if it really had. There was, of course, an outside chance Jasmine Blake had no idea what her husband was up to. But she’d been quick to say her husband had been home with her on Monday night when he hadn’t. Had she suspected something?
Karen tried Ella’s mobile again, but she didn’t answer.
There was something wrong. Something she was missing.
Karen grabbed her coat and bag and stopped by Morgan’s office, where he and Rick were still finishing off the interview plan.
‘I’m heading out with Sophie for a little while; I’d like to talk to Ella Seaton – as long as you don’t need me for the Ryan Blake interview.’
Morgan looked mildly surprised but nodded. ‘Yes, we’ve got the interview handled. Keep me updated.’
‘Will do.’
Karen loved the part of Lincoln near the castle and cathedral. There was so much history crammed into the area, from the old narrow houses to the cobbled streets. There were reminders of the past everywhere she looked.
Karen managed to nab a prime parking spot in the Cathedral Quarter and headed to the Bailgate Deli with Sophie.
‘So what’s your theory then, Sarge?’ Sophie asked as they turned into Gordon Road.
‘I don’t really have one. Only that Ella’s been acting oddly. She’s hiding something.’
‘Do you think she knows about Ryan and Natasha?’
Karen nodded. ‘Yes, it could well be that. Ella said something to me once that stayed with me.’
‘What was that?’
‘She said she liked to watch people. She said sometimes it was nice being invisible because you got to watch people when they were unaware and find out their secrets.’
‘So you think Ella’s found out some secrets?’
‘Yes, I suspect she has.’
They stepped under the blue and white awning and entered the small deli. It was immediately obvious that Ella wasn’t there. Two women were enjoying coffees and delicious-looking brownies. A young man with purple-streaked hair was munching his way through a vegan fry-up, and the smell of fresh bread made Karen’s stomach rumble.
‘She’s not here,’ Sophie said. ‘What do we do now?’
‘We can have a quick look around the area and see if we can spot her.’
‘Since we’re here . . .’ Sophie said, gazing at the menu. ‘I might get something. A late breakfast. Anything for you, Sarge?’
‘I’ll have some plum bread. I’ll wait for you outside; I’m going to try Ella’s mobile again.’
Outside, Karen scanned the narrow road but couldn’t see Ella. She looked through the window of the tea shop next to the deli, but drew a blank. Opposite and to the right was one of the doors to Gino’s Italian restaurant, but that would be closed now.
She then walked to the end of Gordon Road, stopped in front of The Whisky Shop and dialled Ella’s number again. No answer.
Sophie joined her and held out a paper bag containing the plum bread. Karen put it in her handbag for later as Sophie took a large bite of her chocolate brownie.
‘No sign of her?’ Sophie asked, wiping the crumbs away with the back of her hand.
‘No. Let’s take a quick look along Bailgate, then I’ll give her mobile another try. If we still get nothing, I’ll get a trace on her phone.’
Sophie paused, brownie halfway to her mouth. ‘You think she’s missing? Another victim?’
‘I’m concerned about her.’
Sophie guiltily put the brownie away. ‘Right. Let’s go this way. I’ll take the right side of the road, you take the left.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
They turned left and walked briskly along Bailgate, avoiding the puddles. They hadn’t gone far when Sophie stopped dead.
‘Hang on. Isn’t that . . .’
Sophie had stopped just before the Thai restaurant, in front of an entrance to a narrow alleyway which divided the row of shops.
Karen quickly crossed the road. ‘What is it?’
But Sophie’s gaze was fixed on the alley. ‘It’s her. No!’
Ten feet or so into the alley were Cressida Blake and Ella Seaton.
‘Stop!’ Sophie shouted again, and began to run towards them.
Cressida held a small knife in her right hand. With the other, she gripped Ella’s hair, tilting her head back and exposing the white of her throat.
Sophie’s shouts distracted Cressida enough that Ella could pull back. The younger girl lashed out, desperately trying to defend herself. Her elbow connected with Cressida’s stomach.
Winded, Cressida bent double. Sophie made an unsuccessful grab for the knife. Things seemed to progress in slow motion as Cressida raised the knife again in a long arc, this time aiming for Sophie.
Karen dived towards them, hitting the ground with a thud that sent a shockwave of pain down her leg.
Cressida inhaled sharply as Karen grabbed her wrist and twisted it until the girl cried out in pain and the blade fell, clattering against the cobbles.
Sophie kicked the knife away as Karen forced Cressida’s arm up behind her back.
Cressida snarled, kicking and writhing furiously. Sophie helped Karen push her against the wall to subdue her. She was screaming like a banshee. Her breath was hot and sour against Karen’s cheek.
‘What’s got into you?’ Sophie shouted. ‘Calm down. Have you got cuffs, Sarge?’
‘Back in the car.’
‘Great.’ Sophie helped Karen hold on to Cressida as the girl snarled, turning the air blue with her imaginative swearing.
This was a side to Cressida that she’d kept well hidden.
Once they had Cressida relatively secure, pushed firmly against the wall, Karen looked over her shoulder. ‘Ella, are you okay?’
There was a cut on the side of Ella’s throat. A dribble of blood slid down to her collar, staining the white material a vivid red, but it wasn’t a deep cut.
Ella put her hand against her neck and managed to nod.
‘Can you call for backup?’ Karen asked Sophie breathlessly as Cressida continued to struggle.
‘You’d better let me go. You have no idea what you’re doing. I’m the victim here,’ Cressida shouted, panting with the effort of trying to wrench herself free.
She then delivered a well-aimed kick at Karen’s knee. Her bad knee that was already throbbing. Pain shot up Karen’s leg, stole her breath and made her feel sick.
Karen tightened her grip on Cressida, tilting her arm up higher until she squirmed with pain.
‘You’re hurting me. Let go. Help, help,’ she cried. ‘Police brutality!’
‘That’s not going to work,’ Karen hissed. ‘What were you planning to do to Ella? You could have killed her!’
‘I was just defending myself,’ Cressida insisted. ‘She had a knife. She was trying to kill me!’
‘We saw you, Cressida,’ Karen said. ‘You had the knife to Ella’s throat.’
Ella was badly shaken. She leaned against the wall, face pale, trembling.
After Sophie called for backup, she helped Karen with Cressida, and the two of them managed to restrain her more comfortably. But the teenager was still spitting with rage.
‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with. You’re going to regret this. You should’ve let me finish the job. She’s nothing but a waste of space. You think you’re protecting her but she’s nothing but a blackmailer.’
‘I know,’ Karen said.
&n
bsp; Ella looked shocked. ‘You do?’
Karen nodded. ‘That’s where you got the charm bracelet from, isn’t it?’ she said, nodding to Ella’s wrist. ‘It used to be Cressida’s.’
Ella hesitated, then nodded.
‘And the phone as well?’
Ella sighed, leaned back against the brick wall and looked up at the narrow strip of sky above the alley. ‘I’m going to be in a lot of trouble, aren’t I?’
‘Tell me what happened, and I’ll see what I can do to help,’ Karen said.
Ella tucked her frizzy hair behind her ears and bit her lower lip. ‘I overheard something . . . but I didn’t mean to be a blackmailer.’
‘Yes, you did. You’re a horrible, sly worm and I’m going to make sure you go to prison for a very long time,’ Cressida shrieked.
‘That’s enough,’ Sophie ordered.
‘Carry on, Ella,’ Karen said, and she leaned against Cressida, pushing her closer to the wall.
‘Well, I was coming to meet Cressida today because she said she was going to give me some money. She had a secret that she didn’t want anyone to know.’
‘You shut up, you hear me? Just shut up,’ Cressida roared.
Ella took a terrified step back.
‘Go on, Ella,’ Sophie said encouragingly.
But the girl shook her head, obviously scared of Cressida – and with good reason.
They kept trying to calm her, but the teenager was wild with temper. It seemed to take forever for backup to arrive. The disparity between the Cressida Blake standing in front of Karen now and the sobbing, fragile girl who had staggered into Chidlow House on Friday was astonishing.
Cressida glared at Karen, her blue eyes like pieces of ice.
‘Cressida, do you want to tell me why we caught you holding a knife to Ella’s throat? She’s bleeding.’
‘It was only a scratch.’
‘Speaking of scratches,’ Karen said, ‘was that mark on your cheek made when Natasha scratched you?’
The girl scowled and tried to yank her arm away.
‘You may as well tell us because we’re going to have the DNA results soon. We’ll find your skin cells under Natasha’s fingernails if she did make that scratch on your cheek.’