SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘That’s how we met. We both started at the same time and got on well. We fell in love. Well, put it this way, I fell in love with her. I began to doubt whether she ever felt much for me when the affairs started. It had probably been going on all the time without me realising it.’ He looked across at Sophie. ‘Do you think it could have been her lifestyle that got her killed? She just picked the wrong man?’

  ‘We don’t know, Mr Shakespeare. We’re trying to build up a picture of her at the moment. Please tell us more about her if you can. Maybe start with her work?’

  ‘It was strange really. She was so bright, so clever. She had far more potential than me, but she was never willing to put any effort into anything. She was content to coast along in her job while I slogged away, aiming for promotions.’

  ‘You’re a manager now?’

  ‘Yes. We were both in Portsmouth, but I wanted a complete change when we separated, so I moved here. I now manage the largest branch in the city. Apart from cards at Christmas and her birthday, we haven’t communicated in years.’

  ‘Her birthday? Not yours?’

  ‘No. When I said cards, I meant cards that we sent to her. I never received any back.’

  ‘Is there anything you can tell us about her life in recent years?’

  ‘Not really. I settled down with Françoise three years ago. Her daughter lives with us. She’s a student at the university here. Everything is so much calmer and . . . well, as it should be. I haven’t really thought much about Sarah for years. She’s just a name on a Christmas list. I’ve gotten over her. So I don’t know what she got herself into. I did hear that she’d stopped working for the bank. That was more than a year ago.’

  ‘Do you mean the branch where she’d been based, or the company?’

  ‘The whole network. She was no longer on the bank’s payroll, not at any branch, nor any of its other operations. I looked when I heard the news that she’d left. Whether she switched to a different company, well, I can’t tell you.’

  ‘What about your son?’ said Marsh. ‘Do you think he might still have been in contact with her?’

  ‘I don’t believe so, but I can’t be certain.’

  Françoise added, ‘what Hugh hasn’t told you, Inspector, is that he was close to being a nervous wreck when we met five years ago. I wondered what could have happened to reduce such a decent man to that state. I found out when we bumped into Sarah at a function, soon after I’d started seeing Hugh. She was with a man, but she was still teasing others. She even flirted with Hugh, just as if it was all a big game, as if she couldn’t see the hurt that she’d caused and was still causing. Hugh needed therapy when we first met. I could see that and I arranged it. It helped. I don’t know if you can understand.’

  ‘Yes, I can. I’ve been through therapy. It involved hauling some pretty dreadful feelings and emotions from the depths, holding them up to the light and talking about them. It did help.’

  Françoise rubbed Hugh’s upper back, gently massaging his shoulder muscles. ‘She didn’t deserve him, Inspector. She was cheap.’

  ‘What’s your line of work, Ms Lassoutte?’

  ‘I’m a doctor. A paediatrician at the local hospital.’

  Sophie turned back to her partner. ‘The other thing we need to confirm is whether Sarah had any siblings, Mr Shakespeare.’

  ‘Not full ones, no. Apparently she had an older sister who was killed in a motorcycle accident when Sarah was still a teenager. And she has a half-brother. She fell out with him many years ago when they were teenagers. They shared the same mother.’

  ‘What was Sarah’s maiden name?’

  ‘Sheldon. She was Sarah Sheldon when I first met her and she liked to use the name even when we were married.’

  ‘The name Derek doesn’t mean anything to you?’

  Hugh Shakespeare shook his head.

  ‘What about Brian Shapiro?’

  Again a shake of the head.

  Chapter 6: Cool Body

  Sunday afternoon and evening

  ‘What would have happened to me if I’d been in that room on Friday night?’

  ‘We don’t know, Rosemary. It’s impossible to make that kind of conjecture. There are just too many variables. You’d only have been sleeping in the room if the pair of you hadn’t met the two men or if Sarah hadn’t struck up such a close rapport with Derek. But if that had been the case, the two of you wouldn’t have been in any danger. Too many ifs, as I’m sure you can spot. At the moment we have to deal with what actually happened rather than what might have been. But we do take your safety seriously.’

  Sophie was talking to Rosemary Corrigan in a small office at the police station.

  ‘So you think I might be in danger?’

  ‘It’s impossible to be sure. That’s why I want you to remain here in Dorset where we can keep an eye on you.’ Sophie stretched out her legs and smoothed out an imagined crease in her skirt. ‘I don’t want you to return home. You’d be too vulnerable. I have three options for you. You could stay at Ed’s. Whoever carried out the murder must know about you, and if so, probably knows that you stayed at Ed’s on Friday night. His flat wouldn’t be difficult to find, but it does have the advantage of a locked outer door into the building, then a locked door to his apartment. From what I’ve seen, the place looks pretty secure. Or you could go back to the hotel. I know that they have a room available for you. At the moment it’s crawling with people from my forensic team so it’s relatively safe, for a few days at least. The third option, and the one I prefer, is for you to stay in a police safe house. It’s more likely to be in the Wareham area than here in Swanage, so you’d be further from Ed. Whatever option you choose, I’d expect you to remain out of view and to take sensible precautions. But I don’t want you back at home just yet, or even back at work. It’s too risky to have you there alone. I hope it won’t be for too long, but you are our best witness for these two men, and they know it. I want to keep you out of harm’s way.’

  Rosemary thought for a while. ‘I’ll ask Ed if I can continue to stay there. Ella has gone back to Bristol, and Ed has told me that I’m welcome to stay on, particularly now I can move into a proper bedroom. I think he’s a good man. At least I hope he is, so I’ll trust him at the moment.’

  ‘We haven’t found any evidence to the contrary, Rosemary. I wouldn’t have suggested it as an option if I had any doubt of it. But you must stay on your guard. I don’t just mean from him, but from any potential source of trouble. I’ll have someone check on you regularly and I’ll give you an emergency contact button.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘You hang it round your neck and press it if you feel threatened. It will send a signal directly to us here. I’ll walk you back to the flat and have another word with Ed.’

  * * *

  Late in the afternoon, Rosemary and Ed sat in the lounge of his flat sipping a cup of tea.

  ‘So you’ve got to stay inside?’ he said.

  ‘No. We agreed that I can go out as long as I don’t make myself obvious. I couldn’t stay cooped up for days, Ed. I’d go round the bend. If I put on a hat, a scarf and dark glasses and make myself as inconspicuous as I can, she’s happy with me being out for some of the time.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Well, happy is probably the wrong word. She accepted it.’

  ‘Will your work be okay with it?’

  ‘I phoned my boss from the station. DCI Allen had a word with him, and I’ve been cleared to work remotely. Someone’s bringing me a laptop tomorrow morning, and I’ll try to keep my eye on things from here. Remote working can be a great thing, you know.’

  ‘I notice you said “can be” rather than “is.”’

  ‘I’ve a huge backlog of admin stuff that needs sorting through. I can settle down in peace and quiet for once. That’s if you don’t mind?’

  She looked so tired and vulnerable.

  Ed smiled at her. ‘Of course not. But I must warn you that I might play the piano occasionally. Inspiration can s
trike at any moment you know.’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ve never had my own, personal pianist playing for me before. It’s a deal, then. And since you won’t let me pay, once this is over you must come into my store and choose some clothes at staff discount prices. Ella too.’

  In the middle of the evening they went out for a walk along the promenade. A stiff breeze was blowing from the west. Swanage nestles in a dip in the land, so the clouds carried by the wind tend to fragment as they approach. The heavy volleys of rain that were falling further west were little more than occasional light flurries here.

  They sat on a bench looking across the dark sea to a light twinkling on the Isle of Wight. ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever visited this area,’ Rosemary said. ‘It’s really lovely, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’ve been doing the trip for almost ten years, but I’m still amazed every time I take the ferry across from Sandbanks. You come through the built-up areas of Bournemouth and Poole with all the traffic and noise. Then you drive off on this side and it’s like a different world. I call it the place that time forgot. Suddenly you’re driving through the Studland nature reserve — heath land and wooded areas, with the stunning views of the chalk stacks out at sea. It’s so easy to miss the area completely, and selfishly I’m glad so many people do. The place would be ruined if there was much more development.’ He glanced at Rosemary. ‘Do you fancy a drink in my favourite pub?’

  ‘I do, but I daren’t chance it. I promised her I wouldn’t. But a drink when we get back in would go down a treat. Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course.’ Though he was disappointed.

  ‘Maybe when this is all over, Ed. We’ll do it then. Okay?’

  She slid her hand across the surface of the seat and found his. She squeezed it gently and moved closer, leaning her shoulder against him.

  For the first time in eighteen painful months, Ed Wilton felt some of his emotional barriers begin to crack . . .

  * * *

  It was after midnight. He was drifting off to sleep after a restless spell spent listening to the wind rustling the branches of the trees outside his window. Ed sensed a movement in his bedroom. He tensed and then felt the duvet move and a cool body slid in beside him.

  ‘I need you to hold me, Ed. That’s all. Just hold me, please.’ She was crying.

  * * *

  ‘So where do we go from here?’ Rosemary carried two mugs of tea through to the lounge and deposited them on the low table in front of the couch. She glanced through the gap in the curtains, watching the clouds scud across the early morning sky. She pulled her robe closer around her body and sat down next to Ed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he replied.

  ‘You were quite clear that you weren’t ready for a new relationship when we talked about it a couple of days ago. Even Ella said that was how you felt. And now this has happened.’ She picked up her tea and took a tentative sip. Still too hot.

  ‘That was my rational self talking. You know, the one that plans and organises things. The part that thinks it’s in control. What I wasn’t aware of was that I’d become a bit like a capped oil well. The pressure was building up inside and I didn’t realise it until last night.’ He stroked her hair. ‘How about you? How do you feel?’

  ‘You’ve described my feelings exactly. And this morning I feel kind of easy and contented with myself for the first time in months — maybe years.’ She paused. ‘If I was a youngster I’d say that I was falling in love with you. But I’m not. A youngster, I mean. Not the other thing.’ She giggled. ‘I think I’ve lost control of my brain. That came out all wrong.’

  ‘I like your giggle,’ he said. ‘You giggled a lot last night.’

  ‘I was happy,’ she said. ‘You have no idea how happy I was. What we did was kind of therapeutic. I was lying in my bed sobbing, unable to get to sleep and I just suddenly realised what I wanted. So I thought, to hell with it. And you cheered me up so much. I always think that sex is kind of funny, you know, the act. I try to imagine how a robotic, automated being would view sex. All that squirming and wriggling. The fluids. All the sounds. It’s very kind of biological, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, my understanding is that it’s just that. Reproduction? Hormones? Cells? Isn’t that right?’

  ‘You’re being a clever clogs now. I didn’t mean it in that way. I meant in comparison to machines. At least that’s what I think I meant. Oh, I don’t know. Now you’ve made me forget what I was saying.’ She suddenly stopped. ‘Bloody hell. Reproduction. I might be pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ Ed sat up with a jerk.

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll just go and get a morning-after pill from my wash bag. I brought some with me this weekend, just in case. Along with the condoms.’

  ‘Have you been telling us all porky pies?’ he laughed. ‘You said you weren’t like Sarah, and you weren’t into one-night stands. And here you are, owning up to having a bag full of condoms and pills.’

  She poked him in the side. ‘Girl Guides. Be prepared. I suppose a part of me wanted to, but was too scared to do anything about it. And I did tell you that bit.’ She sat up. ‘Anyway, Mr Wilton, you’ve successfully managed to change the subject, which was what do we do now.’

  ‘You said that if you were younger you might think you were falling in love. I feel that too. I feel as if, since Lizzie died I’ve been living in an emotional cold-store, and now you’ve opened it and let me out. I was lying there in bed last night, hoping. I’d just started to drift off to sleep when you crept in.’

  Rosemary made an attempt at Sophie Allen’s interview voice. ‘Ah, Mr Wilton, I see. That’s why you had no clothes on. It all makes sense now. I’ll just need to get my sergeant to record this in his little notebook.’

  Ed laughed. ‘I always sleep in the buff. And if that was meant to be her, I think you’re being unfair to our clever police person. Her voice isn’t quite as posh as that. Anyway, about this pill of yours. Hadn’t you better take it? Before you forget, I mean.’

  ‘And if I didn’t? And by some miracle found myself pregnant at my advanced age? How would you feel, Ed?’ Rosemary was suddenly serious.

  Ed slipped his hand onto hers. ‘Strangely, I wouldn’t mind at all. I’d dread the messy nappies, the sleepless nights and the tiredness. But I think I’d be happy if you were happy.’

  Rosemary looked at him closely, then flung her arms around him. ‘Oh, you gorgeous man,’ she gasped. ‘Why have you waited so long before appearing in my life? At this moment I love you more than I would have ever believed possible.’ She kissed him on the lips and started to cry, just as her mobile phone rang. She glanced at the caller display and pushed it towards Ed. He answered.

  ‘Oh, hello, Chief Inspector. Yes, she is here but she’s a bit emotional at the moment . . . Okay, I’m sure we can pack a few things. Rosemary doesn’t have a lot with her anyway. She was talking earlier on about having to get more clothes. You’ll send someone across to her house? She’s nodding. I think she’s ready to speak to you now. By the way, can I bring a keyboard? I’d be lost without my music.’ He handed the phone across to his new lover.

  ‘I’m fine, really I am,’ she said and listened. ‘You want us to move to a safe house? Is that really necessary?’ A longer pause. ‘Okay, we’ll see you later.’ She ended the call and placed her phone back on the table. ‘Well, I think we’ll be in each other’s company for longer than we’d anticipated. I wonder what has happened to make her change her mind. I hope this safe house she’s found for us is as nice as your flat, Ed. Though I doubt it.’ She smiled at him. ‘How about some breakfast?’

  Chapter 7: Rae

  Monday

  Sophie was woken early the next morning by the sound of a text message. She glanced at her phone and frowned. Barry Marsh had new information about Shapiro.

  ‘I think I may need to move Rosemary somewhere safe,’ she said.

  Martin emerged from under the duvet. ‘What?’

&
nbsp; ‘Barry’s just sent me a message that Shapiro might be an ex-policeman with an axe to grind. If he’s gone off the rails completely he’ll be very dangerous. I can’t leave either of them where they are, it’s too risky. And I have to make this bloody visit to HQ for some inexplicable reason, just when I can least afford the time.’

  An hour after phoning Rosemary, Sophie Allen was at Dorset police headquarters in Winfrith. She was leaning across her boss’s desk, almost fizzing with anger. ‘What am I doing here, Matt? I’m up to my neck in a murder investigation and I’m told to drive all the way up here to collect my new DC? Why couldn’t she come down to me? Has the world gone completely bonkers?’

  Her immediate superior, Superintendent Matt Silver, held up his hands in mock surrender, apparently relieved that she was on the other side of a desk.

  ‘It was all arranged in the middle of last week and HR won’t budge. I know no more about this than you. Nine on Monday morning, that’s all I was told. And it’s you only. No one else knows what’s going on, not even me.’

  ‘I often notice that, but I don’t actually say it.’

  ‘Very witty, Sophie, but I’m not in the mood this morning. I’ve got a day of meetings on budget cuts, and you can guess my feelings about that.’

  ‘Well, is she here now? I’ve been in the incident room since seven this morning, and had to break off to drive up here. I suppose HR think we all start at nine, like them.’

  ‘I don’t know where she is. Your appointment is with the chief of HR, not me. Like I said, I’m as much in the dark as you. Listen, while you’re here, is there anything else you need help with in the investigation? I know we’ve spoken on the phone every day, but I wanted to say again that you only need to ask. The ACC confirmed it earlier.’

  ‘At the moment I’m okay, Matt. And if this new DC is good, then she will fill the gap left by Lydia. I’m actually feeling quite positive about things in the long term. Barry Marsh has agreed to join the team full-time as my permanent DS, so I’ve finally got what I wanted. Though it’s taken far too bloody long.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d better be going. I’ve wasted so much time this morning.’