‘What?’ Barry asked.
‘She was kind of sexy. Dad was obsessed with her. I can see it now.’
* * *
It was a cold, bright afternoon, with the sun already beginning to dip in the sky. Jimmy Melsom and Rae Gregson set out for Portsmouth in order to look more thoroughly at Paul Derek’s flat. Marsh had tried to find out more about the two boys’ weekend stays with their father. Then he phoned through to the incident room with instructions for the two detective constables. They parked behind the block of flats and walked towards the entrance.
‘How could he afford it?’ asked Melsom. ‘The divorce wasn’t amicable. The wife kept the house and he probably had to pay for the boys’ upkeep. He couldn’t have been earning that much, surely? So how did he manage to buy this?’
‘Barry found out that his parents left him some money,’ Rae replied. ‘Pamela kept the house. She has to fund the last few years of the mortgage, but the monthly payments aren’t that much by today’s standards. They bought it twenty years ago. He only needed a small mortgage to buy this place. Pamela took the split badly, but he made sure she and the boys were alright by transferring the house title over to the three of them. That’s according to what Barry told me on the phone. He said that Derek wasn’t a complete rogue.’
They took the lift to the first floor of the four storey block and made their way along a short corridor.
‘The boss made a quick visit yesterday while I was left at his workplace, but she only had a few minutes because of the post-mortem. A local forensic team is supposed to meet us here.’
They slid into their nylon overalls, opened the door and entered a small hallway. The layout of the flat was fairly standard: a kitchen-diner, a lounge, two bedrooms and a bathroom. One of the bedrooms had an en-suite shower room.
‘Not bad,’ Melsom said. ‘It’s got everything you’d need.’
‘The view isn’t much, though,’ Rae replied, looking through the window. ‘The front windows look out over the car park, and the others across that strip of grass to the next block of flats.’
‘You’re too picky. It’d be fine for me. I suppose the boys slept in the second bedroom when they were here. Shall we start? I’ll take the kitchen and lounge and you do the bedrooms? Okay?’
They set to work. Some of the furniture was worn and faded, although everything was clean and tidy. Rae started in the main bedroom. She began with the cupboards. Work clothes, a few suits, jackets and trousers, were separated from more informal clothes. A tie rack was fitted to the inside of the wardrobe door, holding some brightly-coloured ties in different colours. These contrasted with the black and grey of the trousers and suits. His boxers were all patterned, in reds and bright blues. Most of his shirts were coloured. Rae went through the contents of the bedside table. Tissues, spiced massage oils, condoms. There were a couple of erotic paperbacks with storylines about group sex. Rae took them out and sealed them in a bag. The bottom drawer contained several items of lingerie. The size suggested they might be Sarah’s. There was a nightdress in soft gold; a bra, panty and suspender belt set, all in deep red; several pairs of sheer, black stockings; a black and purple corset. Rae carefully removed these and sealed them into evidence bags. The en suite contained the usual: shaving gear, soap, shower gels and shampoos. Two towels hung from the rail.
She moved to the smaller second bedroom. There, the twin beds took up most of the available space. The cupboard was largely empty, containing a few items that obviously belonged to the boys. There was nothing else of interest, so she walked through to the lounge to see how Jimmy was getting on.
Fairly normal stuff, really,’ he said. ‘Maybe a few unusual books on the shelf, but apart from that it’s pretty standard.’
Rae looked at the bookshelves.
‘What do you mean by unusual, Jimmy?’
‘Dickens and stuff. That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?’
Rae snorted. ‘Jimmy, most people think that having a few books by Dickens and Jane Austen is a sign of good taste. Either that or the homeowner’s put them there to impress people.’
‘Whatever. Doesn’t impress me.’
‘What have you got on your bookshelves then? Top Gear annuals? Football book of the year?’ She walked across to the DVD collection. ‘Have you looked through these, Jimmy?’
‘Yeah, but nothing caught my eye.’
Rae noticed that several cases stuck out and she removed them to see what lay behind. She found a case behind them. ‘Not even Fun With Your Boyfriend?’
‘Why that one?’ Jimmy said in a bored voice as he moved about the room.
‘Jimmy, you really are a young innocent. It’s a very unusual sex film. I’m not going to embarrass myself by describing it to you. But we should take it, and we’ll have to go through these films again in case there are others you’ve missed. Remember what the boss said. Anything out of the ordinary that can help her build a picture of the man and his life.’
Between them, the two detectives pulled out another two half-hidden DVDs with a sex theme.
‘How did you miss them, Jimmy?’
He shrugged and looked glum. ‘I just didn’t spot the fact that some were hidden behind. I looked at the titles on the spines and none of them mentioned sex, as far as I could see. Should we watch a bit from a couple of them, just to check you’re right?’
‘No, no, no. Absolutely not. If you think I want to be caught watching sex films with you when the forensic team arrives, you’ve got another think coming. These won’t be soft, romantic sex films either. Five minutes of these and you’d want to run a mile.’
‘Bit of an expert, aren’t you? For a woman, I mean?’
‘Please don’t turn it back on me like that, Jimmy. I know my stuff, but from my job. Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Jen said there was something odd about you, something a bit weird. Is that what she meant? And how did she know?’
‘She doesn’t know anything about me. Look, Jimmy, just forget it. The boss and Barry know everything about me, and they still took me on, so they must have been happy with me, mustn’t they? Just trust their judgement, will you?’
To Rae’s relief the forensic team arrived. Shaking slightly she finished bagging up the films and told them what they wanted analysed and fingerprinted. She and Melsom then started on the long job of interviewing the neighbours.
Chapter 15: A Very Troubled Woman
Thursday evening
Rosemary and Ed were enjoying a meal out in one of Wareham’s pubs. Her mobile phone rang. She looked at the caller and mouthed ‘Police’ to Ed. She told the caller where they were.
‘We’re having company,’ Rosemary said. ‘She’s joining us in twenty minutes. Apparently she only lives a short distance away. She’s walking over cos she needs the fresh air and a drink. Well, that’s what she said.’
‘So much for our romantic evening out,’ Wilton replied.
Rosemary squeezed his hand. ‘Ed, we have plenty of time together. And in a strange kind of way, I rather like her company. She’s intelligent, but she doesn’t talk down to you. And don’t you think she’s a bit of a looker? I realised it when I was describing Sarah to her. She really knows how to dress too. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed?’
He laughed. ‘Yes. That first day I was quite taken aback. It was in the evening, when she called in for the long interviews. She must have had a heck of a frantic day, but she looked almost immaculate. And then her sergeant asked all the questions. She just watched and listened — and made me feel nervous. Psychology, I suppose. All planned.’
The two lovers were still talking when Sophie arrived. Rosemary noticed her two-piece, close-fitting skirt suit in mottled grey and the mid-heeled black shoes. ‘I like your outfit,’ she said.
‘Oh, thanks. Can I get you a drink?’ Sophie asked.
They shook their heads, indicating the unfinished bottle of wine on the table. Sophie went to the bar, quickly returning with a pint glass o
f ale, full to the brim. Rosemary watched in astonishment as Sophie swallowed half of its contents.
‘Ah. I have a thing about quality beer,’ said Sophie. ‘I’m a regular at the local branch of the real ale society and we visit this pub quite often. But don’t worry. You won’t have to carry me home.’
‘It’s a bit unusual, isn’t it? Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I always have this vision of beer drinkers as big guys with fat bellies and beer-stained shirts. They usually have beards,’ said Rosemary.
‘I shaved mine off this morning,’ Sophie laughed. ‘I know. Lots of people have that image of ale enthusiasts. But it’s not the case nowadays. The secretary, another woman, is a friend of mine. She talked me into joining when she found out that I’ve always enjoyed a pint or two, and we go along together. And we dress up for it too.’
‘What do you mean?’ Rosemary asked.
‘Smart casual usually. You know, like what you wear to the blues gigs. Skinny jeans, ankle boots and a leather jacket. A sparkly top. It had an instant effect on most of the men too. When I first started going many of them were dressed rather like you’ve described, but they’d smartened themselves up no end by the next meeting. And for last year’s Christmas evening we both wore sequined dresses, without telling the others in advance. So there we were, knocking back pints in the town’s best pub, perched on bar stools, glammed up to the gills. The men were buzzing round us like bees around a honeypot, particularly towards the end of the evening. There were a few long faces when our husbands arrived for the last hour.’
‘Do they know you’re a senior police officer?’
‘I told them I was a nightclub singer at first but they soon realised it wasn’t true.’ She laughed again. ‘So I owned up and they still seemed to accept me.’ She grew more serious. ‘It’s my way of coping. I need to escape occasionally. From the pressures, I mean. I love my job, but sometimes what I deal with can get a bit much, and I have to let go a bit. Martin understands. He’s wonderful.’ She looked at her empty glass. ‘I’ll get another before we talk. I promise to drink it more slowly. Do you want anything?’
‘Maybe a glass of what you’re having,’ Rosemary answered. ‘A small one, please.’
Ed shook his head. They both watched the slim figure of Sophie make her way to the bar.
‘Do you believe that?’ asked Ed.
‘You know, I think I do. She probably exercises a lot and watches her diet. And her explanation makes sense. I’ve been reading about some of the cases she’s worked on. They’ve been horrific. And I found out some other stuff about her too. I’ll tell you later.’
Sophie deposited the drinks on the table.
‘Rosemary, I need to ask you another question about Sarah, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. We’ve had a tentative report from one of her neighbours that she might have married again some time in the past three years. Did she ever give any hint of it to you?’
‘No. I’d have told you if she had. Is it true?’
‘We’re still checking, which is why I’m here talking to you. What about a wedding ring? Did she ever wear one?’
‘Well, the second time we met, when we went out for a meal together, she was wearing a ring. When she saw me looking she took it off. I asked her about it and she said something about trying it on to see if it still fitted. I assumed it was from her failed marriage.’
Sophie shook her head. ‘Peter, her son, kept both his parents’ wedding rings when they divorced and he still has them. He’s adamant about it. Did it look genuine, or could it have been a bit of costume jewellery?’
‘Well I only caught a glimpse of it so I can’t be certain, but it looked real enough to me. And if it was false why would she have reacted like she did when I noticed? She’d have just laughed it off. She never seemed to take anything particularly seriously.’
‘She took her son very seriously, so he says. Did you pick up on that?’
Rosemary took a tentative sip of beer. ‘Yes, she did. We only talked about children once because I guess she was sensitive about my own situation. But it was clear she had strong feelings for him. She said she missed him. He was her rock, and after he moved to New York she felt bereft. Something like that. I can’t remember her exact words.’
Sophie thought for a while. ‘You said she was sensitive to your situation. Are you sure? Couldn’t you be reading too much into what she said and how she acted?’
‘No. That’s why I liked her. She truly was a nice person, Chief Inspector. I wouldn’t have had such a close friendship with her otherwise.’ Ed Wilton took her hand. ‘I still can’t make sense of all the other stuff she was involved in. It’s all too weird for me, but that’s my problem not hers, if you know what I mean. She was who she was. I’ve never met anyone else quite like her. I never got to the bottom of her personality, and what motivated her, and I won’t ever now, will I? Such a tragic waste of a lovely person.’ She straightened up in her chair and took another sip of her beer. ‘You’re right, this is rather nice. I’ve had lager before, but this is entirely different, isn’t it?’
Sophie nodded. ‘It’s local, brewed in Dorchester. It’s named after Dorset’s Jurassic coastline, a world heritage site. It’s one of my favourite beers. When you told me where you were, that did it. I had to have one. But there’s something else I need to ask you. The festivals you went to with Sarah, they were always blues music, right?’
Rosemary nodded.
‘Did she ever mention going to jazz events at all?’
‘No, I’m pretty sure she didn’t. I don’t think she liked jazz very much.’ Rosemary paused. ‘But Derek and Brian had been to at least one jazz weekend. Derek started talking about it soon after we first met up. That was before we came back to where you were, Ed. It was a bit strange. Brian didn’t look at all pleased that Derek had mentioned it. I saw him glare at Derek and almost shush him. That was partly why I didn’t take to him. It seemed odd, why get angry when a friend starts talking about an event you’ve both been to? I’m really sorry I didn’t mention it before. It’s only just come back to me.’
‘Did he say where this was, Rosemary?’
‘Bath, I think. It was when Derek said Bath that Brian got angry. It was really peculiar.’ She took another sip of beer.
‘Think for a bit longer. Does anything else they said seem unusual now?’
Rosemary shook her head. Sophie drained her glass and stood up. ‘I’d better be on my way. My sixteen-year-old daughter’s cooking tonight so I daren’t be late.’
‘Will you be alright? Isn’t someone collecting you or anything?’
Sophie stared at Ed. She suddenly looked angry.
‘That’s patronising. You may have meant well, but even so. Would you have said the same thing to a man?’
‘No. I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘There’s less chance of a woman being assaulted of an evening than a man of the same age. You wouldn’t dream of saying something like that to a bloke, would you? Most of the people here know me. They’d need to be mad to try anything, and if they did they’d soon be sorry, even with a couple of pints inside me.’ She smiled and gave a small bow. ‘Sophie Allen, lethal weapon, at your service,’ she said. She turned on her heel and walked out.
‘Christ.’
‘Well, you’ve been well and truly told off, haven’t you?’ Rosemary giggled. ‘She’s a woman and a half. But you did walk into it, didn’t you? Couldn’t you have been a little more subtle?’
‘Honestly, I meant well. I had no idea she’d take it like that.’
‘But that’s why she was so angry, Ed. You were patronising her without even realising it. She knew you had the best of intentions, and that’s what made her angry. That’s what women have to put up with all the time. It’s not just the deliberate or openly sexist remarks that upset us. It’s the assumption, however well meant, that we need to be looked after, as if we’re incapable of dealing with life’s little problems by ourselves. You know, the pat on
the head and the “there, there, calm down dear,” attitude.’
Ed looked miserable, and Rosemary squeezed his hand. ‘She’s already forgiven you. That’s what she meant with that last remark. But please try not to patronise me, Ed. I couldn’t bear it.’
‘But if I don’t know, how do I control it?’
‘It’s not difficult. I’m my own person, just as I would be if I were a man. Treat me like a close male relative. Except for the love. And the affection. And the sex. And remind me occasionally how beautiful I am.’ Rosemary laughed.
‘If you say so. Shall we have dessert?’
As they walked back to the house the moon was so clear in the night sky that some of its craters were visible.
‘You were going to tell me some stuff you’d found out about our Chief Inspector friend,’ Ed said.
‘Apparently her last two major cases in this area have been multiple murders. The one last winter must have been particularly horrific. They found the remains of a couple of young women buried in a field. She solved it but was on sick leave for a long time afterwards. I wonder if she had some kind of nervous breakdown.’
‘Surely that means she isn’t right for the job if the crimes affect her that much?’
‘Ah, but one press report went a bit further. Apparently one of the criminals had murdered her father when she was a child, but had never been found. She was the one who discovered it and made the arrest. Imagine what scars that could leave, if it’s true. I wonder if, underneath, she’s a very troubled woman. Look at the way she knocked back those two beers. That’s not normal, is it?’
Chapter 16: Cruel Coincidence
Friday morning
Sophie Allen and Barry Marsh were having a quick chat in her office before the early morning briefing. Rae had told Marsh that she thought people suspected her of being a transsexual. But so far, no direct questions had been asked and no one had made any pointed comments, apart from Melsom’s rather vague ones.
SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense Page 16