All Things Nice

by Sheila Bugler

  ‘And you didn’t mind that your husband was too busy to find the time to come to your birthday party?’ Abby cut in.

  Charlotte gave a smile that was as false as it was bright.

  ‘Of course not. Well, naturally I’d have liked him to be here. But it’s like Nick says, his business is very important. It takes up all his time. I understand that. Of course I do.’

  Ellen was hit by a sudden, unexpected anger. A man had been killed. Their daughter’s boyfriend. And here the two of them sat in their tailored clothes and protective blanket of wealth, thinking they could lie their way out of whatever mess they were in. She hated both of them.

  ‘Is that why you were so desperate to see Kieran?’ Ellen asked. ‘Maybe with your husband not there you decided to turn to your daughter’s boyfriend instead?’

  The shock on Nick Gleeson’s face was genuine, Charlotte went for shock as well except in her case it didn’t work. Mainly because the shock was mingled with something else. Fear.

  ‘I’d like you both to come with us to the station,’ Ellen said. ‘We’ll need formal statements from each of you. I hope you haven’t any other plans for today but if you have, I’m afraid I’ve just cancelled them.’

  Nick jumped up and started blustering, telling Ellen she was out of order and demanding to speak to her superior. She held a hand up, silencing him.

  ‘Mr Gleeson, I’m asking you – politely – to accompany us to the station. We’re dealing with a murder investigation and you’d be wise to remember that. Now, you have a choice. You can come voluntarily, and we’ll be very grateful if you do, or I can arrest you and your wife on suspicion of murder and take you with us whether you like it or not. Which is it to be?’

  ‘I can’t see you’re giving me much choice,’ he said.

  Ellen smiled, giving him a decent flash of her own teeth.

  ‘Let’s go then, shall we?’

  Four

  Ellen knocked on the door of Ger’s office and walked in without waiting for an answer. Ger was working on her laptop, the only item on her faultlessly tidy desk.

  ‘A welcome distraction from reporting,’ Ger said. ‘What can I do for you, Ellen? And don’t worry, I’m not even going to ask why you’re in on a Sunday. I’m too happy for something to talk about that’s not data, data, data. Take a seat.’

  ‘I’ve got Nick Gleeson and his wife here,’ Ellen said, sitting down opposite Ger. ‘We’re about to question both of them. Do you want to sit in on either interview?’

  Ger drew breath in through pursed lips. ‘Was that necessary?’

  ‘Was what necessary?’

  ‘Nick Gleeson plays an important role in the local business community, Ellen. A community we’ve spent a long time building good relationships with. All I’m asking is if you have a good reason for questioning them both here. Surely you could have asked what you wanted at their house?’

  ‘This is because he’s a mate of Nicholls,’ Ellen said. ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with that,’ Ger said. ‘Tell me why you brought them in.’

  ‘Gleeson doesn’t have an alibi for the night of the murder,’ Ellen said. ‘Plus, he’s lying about where he was.’

  ‘You sure about that?’

  ‘Positive,’ Ellen lied.

  Ger frowned. Ellen looked around the office, remembering the countless times she’d sat here discussing cases with Ed Baxter, her previous boss. She hadn’t realised how much she missed him until she got the news, two months ago, that he’d passed away. Finally defeated by the cancer that had forced him into an early retirement.

  ‘Have you heard from Andrea recently?’ she asked, referring to the widow of her ex-boss.

  ‘Spoke to her last week,’ Ger said. If she was surprised by the sudden change of topic, she didn’t show it. ‘She’s doing okay, considering. Still misses Ed, of course. Says she can’t imagine that will ever change. But you’d know how that feels, I imagine.’

  Ellen nodded.

  ‘She asked after you,’ Ger said. ‘You should go and see her.’

  ‘I will,’ Ellen said, meaning it.

  ‘Good.’ Ger pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Let’s go and see Nick Gleeson then. If nothing else, I can make sure you don’t antagonise him any further than you have to. What about his wife? Any reason to drag her in as well or was it just more convenient?’

  ‘Far from it,’ Ellen said. ‘In fact, when I tell you, I think even you’ll agree I’ve done the right thing.’

  * * *

  Charlotte’s stomach growled, startling her, the rumbling too loud in this silent room. A burst of acid burned its way up her gut, pain so bad she doubled over. When it had passed, she sat up, leaning against the hard back of the wooden chair, waiting for her breathing to slow down. The room felt too hot but it was difficult to tell if that was her own body, over-heating as it tended to do, or if the temperature was actually too high.

  A polystyrene cup stood on the plain wooden table in front of her. It contained something they’d told her was coffee. One sip was enough to convince her not to touch it again.

  Abby, the pretty police woman – detective, rather; wasn’t that what she was meant to call them? – had brought her here, fetched the coffee and left her alone. Charlotte called after her, asking how long she’d have to wait, but Abby had closed the door without answering.

  The rumbling in her stomach stopped, replaced by a nagging nausea. She tried to remember the last time she’d eaten. A sandwich after she’d left Freya’s house yesterday; nothing since then.

  Is that why you were so desperate to see Kieran?

  On the drive over, sitting in the back of that horrible little car, squashed up beside Nick, she tried to convince herself it was nothing. A stupid text. That’s all. She couldn’t even remember sending it. She’d only seen it when she’d checked her phone yesterday.

  Random images from Friday night battered the inside of her head. A mix of noises and smells. A man’s face. Rain on her cheeks as she ran across the heath. Or was it tears? The burning taste of vomit in her throat. Through all of it, she searched for Kieran but he wasn’t there.

  The door swung open and two women came in. Ellen Kelly and another one she hadn’t seen before. This new woman was tall too, but blonde. And stunning. Dressed in a beautifully cut black trouser suit that screamed Jasper Conran. When she sat down, she crossed her legs, revealing a pair of smart leopard-print court shoes with a thin heel. Charlotte recognised the shoes because she had the same pair herself. Kurt Geiger, from the spring collection.

  She felt something close to relief. Here was someone she could relate to. She smiled, focussing her attention on her ally.

  ‘I was starting to worry you’d forgotten me. This won’t take too long, will it? I’m hoping to get across to my daughter later this morning.’

  The blonde introduced herself, not bothering to return Charlotte’s smile.

  ‘I’m Detective Superintendent Ger Cox, Mrs Gleeson. I understand you’ve already met my colleague, DI Kelly. Thank you for coming in this morning.’

  ‘I didn’t have much choice about it.’ Charlotte made sure to smile when she said it, not wanting to provoke them.

  ‘We’re very grateful you did,’ the blonde woman said. What did she say her name was? Something unusual. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. Can you tell us, please, about your relationship with Kieran Burton?’

  Is that why you were so desperate to see Kieran?

  ‘He was my daughter’s boyfriend,’ Charlotte said. She gave a little laugh. ‘Or partner, as Freya insisted on calling him. Apparently “boyfriend” is an out-dated term that implies, oh I don’t know what it implies. Something that’s offensive to women, I think. Freya has all sorts of odd ideas about things like that.’

  ‘Things like what?’ Ellen asked.

  Charlotte would have thought that was obvious and wasn’t surprised it was Ellen who asked the question not her colleague who, Charlotte guessed, under
stood exactly.

  ‘Oh you know, relationships and her role as a woman and being an equal partner in the relationship. All nonsense, of course, but it’s no use telling her that. I’ve tried, believe me. She won’t listen. Thinks she knows best. Always has done. I mean, what on earth is wrong with finding yourself a decent man and marrying him? Why do young women today think that’s such a terrible idea?’

  ‘Charlotte,’ Ellen said, ‘when we spoke yesterday, you told me you didn’t remember seeing Kieran at the party.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’m not making that up. I’d had a lot to drink. It was my birthday, you see.’

  ‘You also told me you had an argument with someone at the party,’ Ellen said.

  Charlotte’s mind darted back to yesterday. Sitting in a room like this, Ellen firing questions at her. The hangover making everything else impossible. Her mouth was too dry. She picked up the cup, remembered what the coffee tasted like and put it down. Licked her lips twice before she spoke.

  ‘I can’t recall the details,’ she said.

  A man’s face.

  ‘But it wasn’t Kieran. I’m sure of that.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ the blonde one asked. ‘When you seem to remember so little else.’

  Her hands on his chest, pushing him away.

  Because I wouldn’t have pushed Kieran away.

  ‘I just am,’ she said. ‘He was some guy who tagged along after the bar. Dermot or Declan or … Look, I’ve already told you.’

  ‘I know,’ the blonde woman said. Charlotte tried to remember her name. Jerry? No, not a man’s name. ‘It was your birthday.’

  Rude of her, Charlotte thought. Still, maybe she had gone on a bit too long. They were probably as keen as she was to get this over with.

  ‘Anything else?’ the blonde asked.

  Ger! That was her name. Charlotte smiled, relieved. It was okay. Going to be fine. Ger Cox, with her lovely suit and shoes, didn’t know. No one knew. Charlotte’s smile widened as her body started to relax.

  ‘Why did you want to speak to Kieran?’ Ellen asked.

  They’d checked his mobile, of course. They hadn’t told her that’s what they’d done but she’d worked it out herself. Wasn’t that what they did when something like this happened? They went through the victim’s phone records to see who he’d been in contact with in the days before he died. Funny to think of a scumbag like Kieran as a victim. Funny if it wasn’t so terrible.

  I need to see you.

  She groaned before she could stop herself. Stopped when she saw both women staring at her.

  ‘I was drunk,’ she said. ‘And I’d got it into my head that I wanted him to propose to Freya. Call me old-fashioned, but it made me uncomfortable the way she’d shacked up with him so easily. I didn’t want her to make things that easy for him. I thought, you see, she deserved better. I wanted to tell him that.’

  She tilted her head and lowered her gaze, smiling slightly. The Princess Di thing that usually worked on people who didn’t know her very well.

  She looked up again, still smiling, eyes connecting with Cox’s startling blue ones.

  ‘It was silly of me,’ she said. ‘But what can I say? Too much wine made me emotional. I decided my little girl should have someone with her who could take care of her.’

  She supposed, if she ever had to go to court, she’d have to swear that what she was saying was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It wasn’t, of course, but under the circumstances, this was as close as anyone was ever going to get to nothing but the truth.

  Because the truth would break Freya’s heart and no matter how difficult her daughter was, Charlotte would not let that happen. She might not be the best mother in the world but she could do that, at least.

  They asked her some more questions, going around the same things over and over again. Trying to trip her up. But she was prepared today and she gave the same answers each time. No, she didn’t see Kieran at the party. No, she had no reason to argue with him. Yes, she had sent a text but only because she had her own daughter’s interests at heart. What mother wouldn’t want the best for her child?

  By the time they let her go, she was tired but jubilant. She had performed well. Hadn’t said anything stupid or told them something she shouldn’t have. She stood outside the station, wondering if she should wait for Nick. Told herself there was no point. She had no idea how long he would be.

  It was Sunday afternoon and the sun was shining. She deserved a drink after all that. She looked around for a black cab, doubtful of finding one easily here in Lewisham. But her luck was in. There, driving slowly down the street like he was looking for his next fare. Like he was looking for her.

  Charlotte ran down the steps that led from the front door of the station to the street below, her hand already out. The cab slowed down, pulled into the side of the road, waiting. Charlotte jumped in the back, smiling at the driver’s face in the rear-view mirror.

  ‘The Princess Louise,’ she said.

  Within ten minutes, she was standing at the bar ordering a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

  ‘Large, medium or small?’ the girl serving asked.

  ‘Large,’ Charlotte said.

  The girl poured the wine, slid the glass across the bar and took the ten pound note from Charlotte’s outstretched hand. Sunlight streamed through the front windows of the pub, catching the colours in the wine, green and gold shot through with silver.

  When she lifted the glass, the colours shimmered and shifted and Charlotte thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  Five

  So far, the interview with Nick Gleeson had told Ellen nothing she didn’t know already. Like his wife, he’d had plenty of time to get his story worked out.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ Ellen said, giving it one last try. ‘On Friday night, instead of going to your wife’s party you stayed at work?’

  ‘Correct,’ Gleeson said. ‘I’ve already explained all this to you.’ He looked at Ger and smiled. ‘As I’m sure you understand, Detective Superintendent, I’m a busy man. I’m afraid there are times in my life when work has to come first. Friday night was one of those times.’

  ‘You have a very understanding wife,’ Ger said, returning the smile.

  Nick sighed. ‘Something like that. The truth is.’ He leaned across the table like he was about to reveal a big secret. ‘Charlotte and I, we’ve grown apart over the last few years.’

  Ellen rolled her eyes. She was getting bored with this.

  ‘You sleep at the office?’ she asked, putting emphasis on the word office to express her disbelief.

  ‘Ah,’ Gleeson said. ‘I actually have a small apartment that I use from time to time. I don’t like to come home late and disturb Charlotte. Especially given that things are a bit tense between us. She can be somewhat unpredictable, you see.’

  Ellen interpreted ‘small apartment’ to mean shag pad. Nick Gleeson had a mistress. She saw the pink tinge in Ger’s face and knew Ger had picked it up as well.

  ‘You’d be happy to give us the address of your apartment?’ Ger said.

  Gleeson nodded. ‘Of course. Um, the only thing is, Charlotte doesn’t know. She wouldn’t like it, you see. She already thinks – well, she suspects I’m seeing other women.’

  ‘I wonder why she’d think that,’ Ellen murmured.

  Gleeson’s face coloured. ‘You can be as snide as you want, Detective Kelly. You don’t know what it’s like, living with an alcoholic.’

  Freya had implied something similar about Charlotte and even though she didn’t like Nick Gleeson at all, Ellen felt a twinge of sympathy for the slimey git.

  ‘I get the impression Charlotte and Freya don’t see eye to eye,’ she said.

  ‘Freya hates her mother,’ Gleeson said. ‘And frankly I don’t blame her. She’s grown up watching Charlotte drink herself to death.’

  ‘If things are that bad,’ Ger said, ‘why don’t you leave?’ />
  Gleeson’s hair flopped down in front of his eyes. Again. He shook his head, flicking the hair away from his face. Again.

  ‘She’s unpredictable,’ Gleeson said. ‘I worry what she might do if I wasn’t there to take care of her.’

  ‘Except from what you’ve told us, you’re not there very much anyway, are you?’ Ger said.

  Nick sighed. ‘I do my best.’

  They asked him some more questions but didn’t get anything interesting from him. Ger told him he was free to go.

  ‘I hope I’ve been some help,’ he said, shaking Ger’s hand and gazing into her eyes with a look of such fake sincerity it was all Ellen could do not to drag him back into the interview room and give him a further grilling. ‘And that you find whoever did this before too long.’

  ‘I’m sure we will.’ Ger gave him her best smile. ‘We’ll be in touch shortly.’

  ‘Of course,’ Gleeson said. He let go of her hand and reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a silver business card-holder.

  ‘My details.’ He handed a card to Ger. ‘Office and mobile numbers are both there. Call whenever you need to.’

  Ellen, standing behind Gleeson, pretended to stick her fingers down the back of her throat. Ger ignored her as she ushered Gleeson down the corridor.

  ‘What a creep,’ Ellen said, when Ger returned.

  ‘Couldn’t agree more,’ Ger said. ‘I don’t like him. Or trust him. So, now we’ve seen both of them, what do you think?’

  ‘I think she’s lying about why she sent that text,’ Ellen said. ‘And I think he’s having an affair.’

  ‘Why not give us a name?’ Ger said. ‘If he was with someone on Friday night, then that’s his alibi sorted.’

  ‘Maybe he meant what he said about Charlotte,’ Ellen said. ‘If she’s as unpredictable as he says, who knows what she might do if she found out he was seeing someone else?’

  ‘She already knows he’s screwing around,’ Ger said. ‘I’d put money on it. It could even be the reason she started drinking. And we still don’t know why she sent that text. I wonder if there was something going on between her and Kieran?’