‘So what happened then?’
‘The guy wouldn’t talk at the airport and suggested a bar not too far from where I live. I asked him why that particular bar. He’d done his homework and knew it was my part of London. It’s also busy there after work so we wouldn’t look out of place or be overheard.’
‘What did he want to tell you?’
‘Who knows?’
‘You mean he didn’t turn up?’
‘Oh, he turned up all right. We went there separately. I got a taxi from the airport, but he was there before me. He’d got a table in a cubicle at the back of the pub and bought drinks for both of us.’
‘And?’
‘The oldest story in the book.’
‘What?’ Lexie was so frustrated she felt like hitting something.
Patrick looked mortified. ‘I can’t believe I fell for it. My drink was spiked. That’s the only explanation for how I felt the next morning and that I couldn’t remember anything after arriving at the pub. I woke up in my apartment with absolutely no memory of how I’d got there. It was like the worst hangover I’ve ever had. To begin with, I didn’t even remember the pub. I had a shower then went out to get a strong coffee. At the café I bumped into Wookie, a neighbour of mine. He was waiting for some mates.’
‘Wookie?’
Patrick smiled when he saw her expression. He really ought to smile more often, it changed his entire demeanour, but then he didn’t have much to smile about at the moment.
‘It’s a nickname. I don’t actually know his real name, everyone calls him Wookie.’
‘Is he very hairy?’
‘No, well he does have a shaggy haircut, but he’s tall, must be about six-five, and broad, so quite intimidating until you get to know him.’
Patrick stopped, the smile faded and his forehead wrinkled in thought.
Lexie couldn’t stop a sigh.
Patrick glanced at her. ‘I wasn’t feeling that great, and this bit is still quite vague in my mind, although I’ve gone over it loads of time since then.’
‘What did Wookie say?’
‘He asked how I was feeling. At first I thought it was just from the way I looked. Then he mentioned something about not having seen me so out of it before. I didn’t have a clue what he was on about.’
‘Just like me then,’ muttered Lexie. She looked over at Evelyn, but if Evelyn had heard she didn’t give any sign.
‘He said he’d come up to see me the previous night when he heard banging and crashing coming from my apartment. Someone he didn’t know answered the door. The guy apologised for the noise and said I’d had too much to drink and fell over the coffee table. Wookie pushed past the guy and saw me lying on the sofa. There was another man in the flat. One of them said we’d been out drinking and they brought me home. They left then.’
‘Did he tell you what they looked like?’
‘I didn’t even think to ask, not then. Everything was still really foggy and my head was thumping. I had some hazy memory about going to the pub, but nothing else. Wookie ordered coffees for us and chatted until his mates arrived. They were going off somewhere for a couple of days. I ordered another coffee then realised I didn’t have my phone. By this point my brain was starting to work. I was surprised Caroline hadn’t come round, but without my phone I couldn’t check for messages. The friend she met can be a bit of a drama queen, so I thought dinner might have gone on longer than she expected. Occasionally Caroline’s had to stay with her when she’s been upset. I was also worried about Mum and wanted to tell her I was back. I know the couple that run the café and thought I’d use their phone. They were serving someone and talking about a hit and run a couple of streets away. I didn’t think much about it at the time. I used their phone to call Caroline, but obviously she didn’t answer. Then I rang Mum.’
‘And she told you about Caroline and the accident.’
‘Yes. The police had rung Mum a short time before. They’d taken a while to identify Caroline. Her bag must have been catapulted across the street by the force of the impact. It ended up behind some rubbish bins. They called at my place, but presumably after I left for the coffee shop. Then they rang Mum. Apparently someone had come forward and said they witnessed the accident and saw me drive off.’
‘Was it someone you knew?’
‘The police wouldn’t give Mum a name, just said I’d been recognised from my by-line photo. It was my car that killed Caroline.’ He fell silent on the last two words.
Again, Lexie didn’t know what to say. She looked closely at him. He appeared genuinely upset when he mentioned Caroline, but what did she know of profiling murderers? He could be distressed but still have committed the crime.
‘What did you do next?’
He swallowed hard. ‘When Mum told me about Caroline, I was shocked. I wandered out of the café, not really knowing what to do. Mum said the police seemed sure it was me driving the car. By that time, a few things were becoming clearer, like meeting the guy at the airport and going to the pub. I still can’t remember anything more, but I’m positive I never killed Caroline. I had no reason to. I loved her. Also, I didn’t have the car with me; it was locked up in the garage. Caroline had driven me to the airport in her car and I got a taxi back.’
‘And the police found the car in your garage?’
‘No, they located it a couple of streets away from my flat, but I never took it out. The car was damaged and had Caroline’s blood on it. There were only my fingerprints on the steering wheel, and they found my phone under the passenger seat. There was a text to Caroline on it that I’d supposedly sent just before the accident, saying she was a scheming bitch and I’d get her. Something I would never have said.’
‘So what did you do after speaking to Evelyn?’ Lexie prompted again.
‘I wandered past the pub towards my apartment. Jim, the barman, was outside wiping down tables. He asked how I felt. It turned out he thought I’d been drinking on my own the previous night. He said I left with two guys who were basically holding me up. They told him I’d tried to pick a fight with them. Apparently they treated it as a bit of a joke and were taking me outside to sober up. He didn’t know who they were, never seen them before.’
‘Did you ring the police?’
‘No. I was in a state of shock about Caroline being dead. Finding out the police thought I’d done it was like some horrible dream. At first I hardly took in what Jim said and got him to repeat some of it. My mind was a muddle as I walked back, but when I turned the corner and saw police cars outside my flat everything became clear. The guy at the airport, someone else with him taking me out of the pub, the fact I couldn’t remember a thing after that first drink. I’d been set up.’
Lexie chewed her bottom lip. Patrick’s voice was low but intense. He was doing a good job of making the unbelievable sound plausible. ‘Did the police see you?’
Patrick shook his head. ‘I turned and walked away. A few streets along I saw an ATM and took out some money. Then I got on the underground and tried to work out why someone would want to kill Caroline and implicate me.’ He sighed. ‘I wish I’d taken more notice of what Caroline said. Since then I’ve thought about little else. Caroline must have found out something that scared somebody enough to want her dead. They must have assumed she would tell me.’
‘But how would they get rid of you by setting you up for a hit and run?’
Patrick clenched his hand into a fist. ‘Initially, it looks like a hit and run, an accident, but the text must have been sent to make it look as though I intended to kill her.’
‘Why?’
He looked grim. ‘Accidents happen easily in prison.’
‘If you haven’t spoken to the police, how did you find out what you’ve told me?’
‘I’ve got contacts.’
‘They’re talking to you, even though they think you did this.’
Patrick screwed up his face and looked a little sheepish. ‘Not all my contacts know me by my name.’
/>
‘You’ve used other names to get information?’
‘When you’re trying to find out about corruption, it doesn’t always pay for people to know who you are.’
‘What about the fire here?’
Patrick glanced at his mother. ‘I don’t think it was an accident. The timing is too much of a coincidence. I guess they weren’t expecting me to disappear so they decided the fire was a way to get me here.’
‘In which case you’re doing exactly what they want.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, but I did leave it a few days.’
‘How did you find out about the fire?’
‘I’ve got a secret phone,’ said Evelyn.
‘It’s a pay-as-you-go. I gave it to Mum ages ago when I was working on some stories and couldn’t get here to visit her. It’s set up with phone numbers I keep as throwaways. I update it when I visit.’
Quite the master criminal.
Lexie tapped the arm of the chair. ‘While Nathan and Miriam were trying to put out the fire, I was further away with the children. I thought I saw someone in the shadows. A few minutes later, a man turned up to ask if he could help. He said he was driving by. The thing is, I never heard a car pull up or the door close, but I heard those things when the fire engine arrived.’
‘Hello, Evelyn, it’s just me,’ Helen’s voice came from the kitchen.
Lexie jolted up from her chair and strode out to the kitchen.
‘Hi, Helen, I must have missed you at school this morning. We were a bit late.’
‘How’s Evelyn today?’ Helen spoke quietly.
Difficult one to answer. ‘Much as usual. You know Evelyn, she doesn’t complain so it’s hard to know sometimes.’
Usually, Lexie didn’t have a problem making small talk but now that she needed to keep Helen in the kitchen she couldn’t think of anything to say.
‘I won’t stay long then. Just a quick chat and ask her if she needs anything at the supermarket.’
Lexie trailed after Helen. She must have given Patrick enough time as there was no evidence of him in the room.
Evelyn smiled at them both and Lexie felt a stab of distress. She wanted to help Evelyn, but Helen was also her friend and she hated lying. What the hell had Caroline discovered that could get her killed? That had got her killed.
She let Helen do most of the talking. What should she do? If she tried to stay after Helen left it would seem strange. Evelyn appeared to tire quickly, and when Helen got up to leave Lexie went with her.
‘I’ll come back later, or tomorrow,’ she said to Evelyn.
Evelyn smiled at her. ‘Don’t you worry, I understand. I’ll be here.’
Lexie and Helen walked along the path together. ‘How are your parents?’
Lexie shook her head. ‘Dad’s fine but Mum is keeping something from me.’
‘Come for a coffee and we can chat. I haven’t seen much of you the past few days. Tell you what. I have to pick up some plants for the garden. I’ll drive you out to the garden centre. It’s nice and there’s a great café.’
‘Sounds like a good idea.’ Lexie sent her dad a text to let him know she’d be away a little longer.
Helen drove them to the garden centre, talking about her plans for some fruit trees. Lexie sauntered around displays of summer bedding plants while Helen went to find the things she needed. Lexie picked up some brightly coloured petunias. They’d look good in the ceramic pots lining the veranda. The sun was warm on her back and she felt herself relaxing. In the next aisle she stopped to look at pots of verbena and marigolds. They’d go well with the petunias. She picked a variety and turned to put them in a trolley. Beyond the plant displays were a few groupings of café tables. Her mother and Dominique Santos sat at one in the corner. They were oblivious to the drinks and food on the table, and her mother’s expression was serious as she spoke. Dominique shook her head, but Jean appeared resigned rather than angry.
‘What’s up?’ asked Helen.
Lexie nodded her head to indicate the two women. In a few words she told Helen about the visit to Longcross House and her mother’s apparent unwillingness to answer questions.
Helen regarded the two women. ‘What’s worrying you about it?’ Her gaze was steady and her grey eyes seemed to ask a lot more than the superficially simple question.
Lexie sighed. ‘I don’t know. I felt Mum was acting strangely. As if she didn’t want anyone to know she had met this Dominique woman. If they knew each other, what’s wrong with Mum saying that? When I asked her, I just got Mum’s tortuous ambiguity. It all felt like it was secret.’
Helen looked back at the two women. ‘If it was secret, you’d have thought they would meet somewhere more discreet.’
‘I don’t know many places in Nettleford, so I guess one place is as good as another.’
‘Have you considered you might be making too much of this, you know, with the move and everything?’
‘Nathan said the same.’
‘Do you want to go over to see them?’
Lexie wasn’t sure. That was a first for her.
‘Let’s go and pay for the plants. If they’re still there when we go into the café, I’ll do Mum’s trick and look surprised.’ She gave a quick grin. ‘It’s okay. I’ll be polite.’
‘And give your mother the third degree when you get home.’
‘Something like that.’
The table was empty by the time they returned from packing the plants in the car.
‘I suppose I’m relieved in a way.’ Lexie sat where her mother and Dominique had been and plonked the serving number on the table. ‘And that’s not like me either. All these changes are worrying. Maybe I am making too much of everything.’
‘What made Nathan say it?’
‘Oh, I can’t remember now. Miriam, I think, and then going on about Mum.’ She remembered the conversation exactly, but she didn’t want to mention Patrick.
‘Miriam goes out of her way to keep everyone at arm’s length.’
‘You and Nathan are probably right and I’m getting things out of perspective.’
9
When she arrived home, her father was walking around the garden, talking animatedly on his phone. She waved at him from the window. He grinned and waved back. There was no sign of her mother.
Lexie went back out onto the veranda and poured some of the potting mix she’d bought into the ceramic pots and quickly planted the flowers. She wasn’t a keen gardener but liked the effect of the bright colours along the porch.
‘That looks very domesticated for you,’ said her father.
Lexie brushed back a strand of hair before remembering her hands were mucky. ‘This is about my limit. It’s more than I ever managed in London. I like it to look nice, but I can’t be bothered with all the work.’
‘I guess you may have to get used to it. You’ve got a fair size garden plus the bit beyond the back fence.’
Lexie sat on the top step and her father leaned against the veranda balustrade. ‘Somehow that doesn’t seem quite as scary as it did, but only by a small margin.’ She studied her dirt stained fingers, considering how to approach her questions.
‘Why didn’t Mum ever consider having a career? I know she was in the police before you were married, but once I was at school she could have done something else.’
‘Suddenly lots of questions about your mother.’
‘It’s not that I wasn’t interested. More that life was always so busy. I know it’s a poor excuse, but I’ve been thinking about it now.’
Alistair sat next to Lexie on the step. ‘You get very zipped up in your own skin. It’s not a criticism, just an observation. Even when you were young you were always single-minded once you had an idea. You need to get out of yourself sometimes and take a closer look at other people.’ He stopped for a minute. ‘But try it in a softer way than you have since we’ve been here. Nathan could do with a little support.’
‘Nathan? What’s he got to do with this? Has he said
anything?’
‘Of course not. He’s much too loyal to talk about you to anyone, even us, but this new job of his is a big responsibility. On top of which he feels bad about hauling you away from London.’
Lexie didn’t know what she’d do without Nathan. He was the calm, sane voice in her head when she got stressed. She must tell him more often.
She gave her dad a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thanks for the reminder. I do know how lucky I am to have Nathan.’
They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the sunshine and Lexie’s thoughts returned to her mother.
‘Mum’s smart and I remember her studying when I was at school. It all seems a waste of her skills. I’m not knocking the voluntary work but…’
Her dad got up and stretched, rolling his shoulders before speaking again. ‘The voluntary work is important to your mum, but she does a lot more than that.’
Lexie stared at her father. ‘What type of work?’
‘All your mother has ever wanted to do is help people. The voluntary work filled some of that need. After doing the university papers she decided to go into counselling. It wasn’t a huge surprise to me as she’d worked for the Samaritans for a few years, and she still does some shifts there on the phones.’
Lexie felt her mouth drop open. ‘I never knew that was the voluntary work she did?’
‘She doesn’t talk about it much, not even to me.’
‘And she works as a counsellor.’
‘Mostly for people who can’t afford to pay the expensive prices. She works through women’s refuges and other charitable groups.’
‘I feel awful not knowing any of this.’
Her father shook his head. ‘Your mother wouldn’t want you feeling like that.’
‘Did you know she was meeting Dominique Santos today?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know her?’
‘Yes, although not as well as your mother. We first met Dominique years ago.’
Just then Jean drove up. ‘Those flower tubs look beautiful,’ she said as she got out of the car. ‘What lovely bright colours. I thought the other day we should plant some flowers in them.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Isn’t it time to go and collect the girls?’
Still Death (A Lexie Wyatt murder mystery Book 1) Page 8