by Franklin, JJ
‘My friend. She hasn’t turned up yet. I hope she hasn’t had an accident.’
‘I’m sure she will be all right. Shame, though, as she is missing a great performance.’
Musing on how kind people were, he hurried to the roadway and looked up and down, fully aware that some of the group were still watching him, before turning left down Waterside towards Stratford.
CHAPTER 24
Matt woke early missing both Eppie and his bed. He regretted losing his temper last night as it meant he had forfeited the opportunity to explain how much he loved her and wanted to keep her safe. The pressures of the case were immense on their own without having to worry about his wife.
This wasn’t just any murder. The killer now had the taste for killing, according to the professor, and would be certain to strike again, unless they could stop him. It was now four days since the murder at the spa. Was the killer already becoming anxious to satisfy his need? Matt was acutely aware that if he and the team missed anything, another woman could lose her life.
But already there were rumours that the spa owners were badgering the Chief Superintendent to let everything go back to normal, profits being of more value than a human life. Matt wondered how long the Chief would be able to withstand the pressure.
After a quick shower, he tiptoed into the bedroom, half wishing Eppie was awake, so that he could at least begin to mend some of the damage. Maybe she was right, the spa could be the safest place for her. The murderer would be a fool if he struck there again with the police already on the scene.
Eppie was fast asleep and, as he looked down at her, he could see that her eyes were still puffy from last night’s tears. Feeling a complete heel, he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and left for work, cursing the job. This was no way to start a marriage.
Matt decided to take some time catching up with the information and reports, which were piling up on his desk. The team were busy following up different leads and continuing to gather information at the spa. Besides, he didn’t want to risk seeing Eppie at the reception desk in case it provoked him into losing his temper again.
Matt was making good headway, until McRay put his head around the door.
‘Got a minute, Matt?’
Matt put aside Wendy’s follow-up on the distribution of the lollipops and stood. ‘Of course, Sir.’
McRay sank into a chair beside the coffee table, so Matt joined him and waited for him to speak.
‘I’m getting a rollicking from above. And the Super is being leaned on. I tell you, Matt, these men who own the spa are too rich for their own good. The sods think it can buy them whatever they want.’
‘And they want us out of there?’
‘Hole in one,’ sighed McRay.
Matt was silent, thinking of the pros and cons of pulling all police presence from the crime scene. In a normal one-off murder case, if there was such a thing, it might be possible, but this was different and, besides, Eppie was there. He knew his worries about her shouldn’t influence his judgement, but he couldn’t stop his need for her safety surfacing.
‘This one is different, Matt.’
‘Yes, Sir. If Professor Meredith is right, this murderer will kill again, and soon. And while it is unlikely that he will kill in the same place, we haven’t yet ruled out all the staff or guests. Also, we do not know the motive for this killing. It is possible that the killer has a grudge against the spa, which would put all the guests and staff at risk. I strongly feel we should maintain at least a uniform presence at the spa once the interviews are concluded.’
‘I agree. Let me have a word, see what I can do. Keep me up to date by the minute, Matt.’
‘Of course, Sir. And thank you.’ Matt stood as McRay left. It was good to have him back on form, supporting the frontline troops.
The rest of the day passed in a whirl. Matt had little time to think of anything but of assessing the reports in front of him. By the time the tired team started drifting back to the office, Matt was glad he had some good news to tell them and called a briefing.
Matt held up the small batch of reports. ‘Some of our hard work could be paying off at last. This is just the beginning of the response to the doll appeal.’
‘Anything useful, Guv?’ Fluff called out from the back.
Matt looked down at the papers in his hand and separated the top few. ‘The usual kooks and these four. This one needs following up tonight so if anyone fancies a bit more overtime…’ he said. There was silence from the team.
‘I’m up for that. Help me save for those thigh-high boots,’ Fluff said, amid a backdrop of wolf whistles.
To Matt, like most of the men on the team, the image of Fluff’s long shapely legs encased in thigh-high boots was a tantalizing one. He pushed it to the back of his mind. ‘Thanks. We’ll need to leave as soon as possible. This lucky man we’re interviewing heads off to Spain later tonight.’
Matt filled Fluff in as soon as they were on their way. They were heading for a small outdoor market near Hampstead. It could be a wild goose chase, but the trader had remembered a suspicious man who bought some dolls from his stall.
For a short time, the talk was easy as they discussed the case. Then they were silent until half way down the M40. Fluff glanced at Matt.
‘Everything OK, Matt?’ she asked.
He knew it was no good trying to fob her off so opted for a version of the truth. ‘Too long on my own,’ he replied.
‘Can’t be easy. Even without the case.’
Matt nodded, silent, as he manoeuvred his way through the rush-hour traffic spilling out onto the M40 around Oxford. He wondered what Eppie was doing and wished he could be with her, even if it did mean a row.
Now that the anger had gone, he felt confused. Surely, it was a husband’s role to keep his wife safe. Was that old fashioned and out of date? He knew it probably was. The shock of seeing her there in the danger zone—that was what had thrown him.
‘Give it time Matt,’ Fluff said, interrupting his thoughts. ‘It’s a very different life for her.’
‘Thanks. I’m sure we’ll work it out.’
Matt risked a quick glance at her, realising the wisdom of her words. She was right. Eppie was used to travel and excitement; he couldn’t realistically expect her to settle happily in a small market town, in his tiny flat. It wasn’t as if she had any friends or family nearby. He imagined her there now, waiting for him to come home. He’d better let her know he may not get home until late, if at all.
Passing his mobile to Fluff he asked her to call Eppie. He was aware that Fluff hesitated for a moment, as if she wanted to say something, but he gave her no option, and she rang Eppie, without making any comment.
Matt felt bad knowing he should have been the one to make the call and visualising how upset Eppie would be, but he couldn’t afford the time to pull off the motorway, so he shrugged off the image and returned to professional mode.
As they left the M40 and onto the A40 further conversation was ruled out as Matt concentrated on the heavy traffic.
Parking was easy, since most people were heading home. Matt and Fluff entered a square filled with shops on three sides and littered with market stalls. Most had closed for the night, although one or two traders were still packing away.
The wind whistled through the small alleyways off the square, causing the leaves to gather into swirling piles of orange. In one corner, a skip was overflowing with cardboard boxes and a bored looking youth was aimlessly driving a noisy machine, a cross between a lawnmower and a vacuum cleaner, amidst the people and stalls.
Facing them, The Gay Dog pub looked warm and inviting with the glow from its frosted windows spreading out over the darkening square.
Matt led the way across to the pub and held the door for Fluff, unprepared for the wall of noise that burst out at them. He guessed that this was where most of the market traders came for a pint at the end of the day. Fluff led the way through the heaving crowd towards the bar. The crowd parted g
ood-naturedly for her where Matt guessed they wouldn’t have done so for him.
Matt was just wondering how they were going to find Archie Smith in this hubbub, when he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find a small, thin-faced man beside him.
‘This way, Guv.’ He turned and led the way through the crush to a large table in the window where several men and two women sat. ‘Shove up, Pammy, let the lady sit down.’
Pammy, deep in some sort of argument with a large man farther down the table, moved along without a glance. Archie ushered Fluff into the space and squeezed in beside her. Just as Matt thought he would have to stand, the man opposite Fluff drained his pint and stood. Giving a brief wave to everyone else, he indicated his seat for Matt.
In this situation, Matt wanted to keep fairly low key, even though he was certain most of the crowd would have guessed by now who they were. ‘Archie Smith?’ he queried.
‘The one and only.’
Matt allowed Fluff to do the introduction as she was closer to Archie, and he was finding it difficult not to shout above the noise of the several different conversations around him.
Archie waved his hand to stop Fluff taking out her warrant card. ‘No need for that, Love. Clocked you a mile off. Now about your bloke. Judging the punters is what it’s all about in this game. If they’re time wasters, or the like, you move along to the next one pretty smartish, or the buggers will go next door. This one was odd, sort of hesitant, looked around him before buying. Now I wouldn’t have thought about it twice, but then he puts on this smarmy act, says he wants the dolls for his dear nieces, and I thinks, well, as long as he’s got the readies, I’ve got the goods.’
The word dolls had immediately hit Matt but Fluff was ahead of him.
‘How many dolls did he buy, Mr. Smith?’ Fluff asked.
‘Archie, Love, call me Archie. Three. And it’s not even Christmas yet. I suppose they could all have birthdays, but you know what I thought. I thought he was one of them—you know—them dirty buggers that interfere with kiddies.’
Matt felt his heart plummet. Three dolls. The murderer had prepared for at least two more murders. Matt tried to tune in again as Archie continued.
‘I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about the bugger, but just as he was walking away, this little kid, fuzzy sort of hair, races round the corner and bumps straight into him. I thought he was going to hit her. I was ready I can tell you. He wouldn’t have got away with it.’
Matt was sure he was right.
‘What happened next, Archie?’ Fluff intervened.
‘Well then, the kid’s mother came round the corner, and all of a sudden he was all smarmy again. Patted the kid on the head and smiled at the mother. I thought then he was one of them that’ll charm you with one hand and cut your throat, or worse, with the other.’
‘This is very helpful,’ Fluff said. ‘Can you describe this man?’
‘Phew—you see so many, you know.’
‘It would really be a great help,’ Fluff encouraged.
‘Well, he looked like he’d come in from the country, but pale with it. Yes, one of them flat caps but it didn’t sit easy—more for show than keeping your head warm I’d say.’ Archie thought for a moment. ‘Say he was late twenties, could be thirties. Had a jacket to match—that didn’t fit either. Can’t think of anything else—sorry.’ Archie looked at his watch. ‘Blimey, if that’s the time, I’d better be off or the missus will be off to Spain without me. Hope that’s helped, Love.’
Fluff gave Archie a card and the usual spiel and stood aside as he waved cheerio to his mates. Matt nodded towards the door, and he and Fluff followed Archie out.
Outside, the chill in the air, tainted with the smell of fried onions, made Matt realise he was hungry. He wondered what Eppie had prepared for supper. If he walked in now, she would probably throw it at him, and he couldn’t blame her. Suddenly, he wanted to be there with her, to talk and hold her. Like Fluff said, they would work it out.
However, neither he nor Fluff had eaten since lunchtime, and he was about to suggest they get something to eat before heading back when his mobile rang.
Wendy had come up trumps yet again and had tracked down someone who had worked both days of the costume sale in Birmingham. He was a young actor called Anthony Mellor who had been resting at the time. Since then, his luck had changed, and he was now working with a touring company presently performing at a small theatre in Ruislip. Wendy had even found out the starting times of the play.
Looking at his watch, Matt calculated that they might just be able to have a word with Mr Mellor before the evening performance, although it meant no food and a late night. He relayed the information to Fluff.
‘So, are you up for it? Treat you to a hamburger afterwards.’
‘How could I refuse that offer?’
Matt wondered if it was his imagination or had Fluff seemed just that little bit too pleased at the prospect of spending the next few hours with him.
CHAPTER 25
She was waiting just where he had told her to—a few yards away from the entrance to the Dirty Duck. The pub was always busy, since it was just a little way along Waterside from The Swan and The Royal Shakespeare’s main theatre. The Duck had a reputation for being the place where actors went to relax after a performance. One room, aptly called the Actor’s Bar, was lined with signed portraits of distinguished actors, some long dead.
Clive told Anne that he would be coming along Waterside from the Holy Trinity Church end, and she saw him immediately, waving in an immature fashion.
‘Oh, I thought maybe you weren’t coming.’
‘As if I would let you down.’ It was an awkward moment, as she seemed to want to hug him. Clive moved swiftly to forestall any emotion and placed his arm under her elbow, moving her quickly away from the lighted area and across the road towards the old chain ferry. He needed to get her to the chosen spot.
‘I thought we could have a quiet chat before going for a drink. I’ve wanted to talk to you alone for so long, Anne. We have no chance at work.’ She giggled in response.
‘That would be lovely.’
‘Let’s take the path along the river. It will be quieter there. Not that I would want you walking this way on your own in the dark, mind.’ He put his arm around her shoulder for good measure, and she snuggled in to him, placing her arm around his waist. Clive wasn’t comfortable, and her hair smelled like Mother’s when she had just come home from the hairdresser’s. But it was important that she didn’t feel the tension in his muscles, and he tried to concentrate on something else. Across the dark space of grass and trees to his right he could hear the buzz of the theatre crowd. He had to finish this before the bell rang for the second half.
‘How long have you been at En Jay’s?’
‘It’s nearly eleven months now.’
‘I thought it was about that. I have noticed you. It’s just that En Jay doesn’t go along with office romances. I had only just started there when two people were fired. It makes you very cautious.’
‘I thought you and Ben…?’
‘Two men having a drink—that’s not frowned on. And it was great for me to get out a bit. As you know, I can’t do that very often.’
‘Because of your Mother?’
Clive nodded sadly. Anne tightened her arm around his waist and put her head on his chest. His main thought was that she might leave traces of hair but he controlled his impulse to push her away and patted her shoulder gently with his free hand.
They had passed the Brass Rubbing Centre now. It was dark, and there was no sign of anyone, but just in case, Clive kept his head titled downwards towards her so that, at a passing glance, they would look like a courting couple.
Only a yard or two to go. He could see the small tree he had chosen. Its branches were strong and drooped close to the ground over the water.
‘Yes. I love my Mother and she is very good, but I don’t like to leave her alone for too long.’
‘
I think that is what I love about you, Clive.’
She turned her face up, bringing her hands to pull his head down towards hers. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was expecting a kiss. He looked down at her with revulsion, but then he heard footsteps coming along the path. A couple were coming towards them, going towards Stratford. He mustn’t let them see his face. He bent his head and let his mouth find hers. Her thin lips tasted of lipstick and mouthwash. Clive thought of the passionate kisses he longed to share with Ben. This was like kissing a toilet seat, and all his senses were screaming to pull away.
The couple were moving slowly. Anne was pressing her lips into his, and he could feel her tongue searching for an opening. He wouldn’t open his lips but pressed harder needing to prolong the agony, until the couple had passed so they wouldn’t see his face.
‘Leave something for breakfast, Mate.’
The couple laughed and moved on. He unclipped his lips from Anne and glared after them.
‘Ohhhh. I always knew you felt the same as me, Clive.’
It was time to show her just how he felt. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and almost dragged her the few steps to the tree, looking around to make sure no one else was coming, letting her think his passion had been awakened. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, eagerly awaiting an attack on her virtue.
‘I want to tell you how I feel about you, Anne.’ She gave that annoying giggle again and tried to do the Diana look, glancing up at him under her lashes. At that moment, he hated her but, fighting to hide his hatred, he managed a smile.
‘I…well it’s difficult to put into words. Come down here where we won’t be disturbed, and I’ll try to explain.’ He manoeuvred himself easily down the small slope towards the water while holding onto the branches of the tree.
‘Oh, Clive. I think you are trying to seduce me.’
This was something he couldn’t do, even if his life depended on it. Clive moved to the edge of the water and held out his hand to her.