‘So he’d rather stay in an unhappy relationship?’ Ellen said.
‘He’d rather do anything than give away a single penny of what he’s worked so hard for,’ Loretta said. ‘Until recently, he had the best of both worlds, didn’t he? He had his money and he had me on the side, making everything okay and waiting patiently like some stupid, bloody fool for him to come to his senses and leave her.’
The anger in her voice was real. Ellen wondered how far Loretta might go if pushed.
‘I must sound like a nutter,’ Loretta said. ‘And you’re probably wondering if I’m the sort of nutter who might kill someone. Can’t say I blame you. But if I was going to kill anyone, it would be Nick. Besides, I have an alibi for every night for the past five nights. When Nick finished with me I moved in with an old friend from uni. Couldn’t bear being on my own. I’ve been going to hers every night straight after work. She’ll vouch for me if you need her to.’
Ellen took the friend’s name and telephone number even though she knew Loretta was right. It didn’t make sense for her to kill Kieran or Ginny. She’d said it herself: the person she’d most want to hurt was still alive.
‘What happened?’ Ellen asked.
‘He said he wanted to give his marriage another chance,’ Loretta said. ‘I don’t believe him, though. He met someone else.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I know him,’ Loretta said. ‘Better than he thinks. I’ve caught him on his mobile more times than I can count, whispering to someone with that stupid, goofy look on his face. And he’s started taking lunch breaks. Long ones.’ She shook her head. ‘When you’re this busy, you don’t take long lunches unless you’ve got someone very special to share them with.’
‘Any idea who she is?’ Ellen asked.
‘Not a clue,’ Loretta said. ‘He’s being all secretive about it.’
‘I can understand that,’ Ellen said.
Loretta shook her head. ‘No. It’s weird. When I was, you know, when we were together, everyone knew about us. Even Freya. She’d had her suspicions for a while and eventually she came right out and asked Nick. He told her the truth. Afterwards, she came to see me. She wanted to make sure, I think, that I was serious about her father. Once she realised I was, she seemed fine with it. Told me things between her parents were difficult and her father deserved any happiness he could find. This is different. No one has a clue who she is.’
Before Ellen could ask anything else, Nick Gleeson came through the front door into the restaurant. He clocked Ellen with Loretta and walked over, his face carefully arranged into a smile that had all the warmth of an iceberg.
‘Detective Kelly,’ he said. ‘I hope Loretta has been taking good care of you? Ah, good. You’ve had the pastries. Have you tried these? Sunos de Teruel? Little pastry cheesecakes. They’re delicious.’
‘Loretta’s been most helpful,’ Ellen said. ‘In fact, I think she’s given me all the information I wanted. No need to take up any of your time. I know how busy you are.’
The smile slid off his face, replaced by a frown.
‘But surely …?’
‘Surely nothing,’ Ellen said. She stood up. ‘Thanks for the coffee. And you’re right. The pastries are delicious. Goodbye.’
Outside, it was raining again. Still buzzed up, Ellen barely noticed. Getting the better of Nick Gleeson brightened her mood. She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt this good about life. She paused in the doorway to call Abby and tell her she was on her way in. When she’d finished, she put her phone away and stepped onto the road. At the same time, a red car pulled away from the kerb right in front of her. The driver didn’t appear to notice her and Ellen had to jump back to avoid being hit. The car swept past her through a puddle, causing water to splash up and drench the bottom half of Ellen’s tights.
She shook her fist at the car but her protest was pointless. The car sped down the road, disappearing in a mist of exhaust fumes and rain. Through the rain she saw a bus approaching. She crossed the road and legged it to the bus stop. It was only once she was sitting down inside the bus that her mind turned back to the red car. There hadn’t been time to notice much about the driver, but she’d seen enough to recognise his face.
Looking out the rain-streaked window, Ellen wondered what had happened to make Nick Gleeson leave the restaurant in such a hurry. And where had he been going?
Two
Thursday morning, Abby was back at the university looking for Cosima. Yesterday’s interview at the station had revealed nothing new. Cosima was so closed, Abby had really struggled to break through and make any sort of connection. It was Ellen’s idea to try again, this time at the university.
‘You’re not much older than her,’ Ellen said. ‘You’ve got more chance of getting through to her than I have. If you speak to her on her own territory, you may have more luck.’
There was a bounce in Abby’s step this morning. Things with Sam were still great and work seemed to be taking a definite turn for the better. Her relationship with Ellen had improved beyond anything she could ever have hoped for. When she thought back to how they used to be, it was impossible to think they could ever have reached a point where they were … what? Colleagues who got on with each other? No. It was more than that. Ellen was her friend. A good friend, at that. As it had many times in the past, Abby’s mind flashed back to that terrible moment when Ellen had walked in on her and their ex-boss, Ed Baxter. Maybe some day she’d be able to tell Ellen how that period of madness was all a reaction to her brother’s death. Maybe.
A quick phone call to Professor Holmes and Abby learned that Cosima would shortly be finishing a lecture in the Psychology Department. The door was closed and she stood outside, listening to the vaguely soporific voice of the male lecturer rumbling through the wooden door.
She didn’t have long to wait before the door opened and a flood of students poured out, all noise and colour and energy. Abby searched the animated faces for Cosima and was on the verge of giving up when she saw the girl trailing along behind the herd, obviously and painfully alone.
‘Cosima.’
A flash of animation, Abby couldn’t work out if it was interest or anger or fear, and the girl’s face reverted to its usual expressionless façade.
‘Hello.’
‘A quick word?’ Abby said.
She looked around, searching for something to say that might resonate with Cosima.
‘It brings me back to my own student days,’ she said. ‘Feels like another lifetime ago now.’
She waited for Cosima to ask her where she’d studied or what she’d studied or anything at all.
‘I miss it,’ Abby said. ‘Although you don’t really appreciate it at the time. You know, how lucky you are to be able to be a fulltime student with no worries or responsibilities. I never realised how good I had it until I’d finished and real life caught up with me.’
‘You didn’t realise?’ Cosima frowned. ‘How could you take all this for granted?’ She waved her hand around, at the high-ceilinged corridor, the throng of students brushing past them, the whole world of academic privilege.
‘I was young,’ Abby said. ‘And stupid, I guess. I really only worked out how lucky I was after my brother died.’
‘What happened?’
‘He was hit by a car,’ Abby said.
That did the trick. Cosima’s face flushed red, her eyes bright with emotion. Real and raw.
‘The driver was drunk,’ Abby said.
‘Oh.’ Cosima frowned and looked away. ‘I’m sorry. That’s terrible.’
Abby asked if there was somewhere quiet they could go and Cosima suggested the student canteen.
‘It’s never busy this time in the morning,’ she explained, as she led Abby into the large, modern annex.
The room wasn’t quiet, echoing with the clatter of student babble and cutlery clinking against china. But there were plenty of free tables. They found one near the back of the canteen. Cosima
sat opposite Abby, arms folded across her chest, waiting.
‘I’m really sorry about what happened to your cousin,’ Abby said.
‘My mother’s cousin,’ Cosima corrected her. ‘It’s horrible.’ Her shoulders slumped and she looked tired.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Abby asked. ‘Tea or coffee, maybe?’
‘I just want to get this over with,’ Cosima said. ‘I suppose you want to know where I was when it happened?’
‘Actually,’ Abby said, ‘I wanted to ask about your father and Ginny. I understand they didn’t always see eye to eye?’
‘So? Lots of people don’t get on. It doesn’t mean they go around killing each other. Anyway, he was interviewed yesterday, wasn’t he? I won’t be able to tell you anything new.’
‘She accused him of killing your mother,’ Abby said. ‘That’s a bit more than not getting on, isn’t it?’
Cosima closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, like she was working hard to keep her emotions under control.
‘Ginny had a lot of problems,’ she said, opening her eyes.
‘What sort of problems?’
‘Oh God. Look, she was one of those frustrated women who wanted children but couldn’t have them. It messed her up.’
‘How do you know this?’ Abby asked.
‘It’s not exactly a secret,’ Cosima said. ‘Ask anyone who knew her. She fell out with my mother when Mum got pregnant. Ginny was jealous. Couldn’t cope with it.’
‘Yet she was friends with Charlotte Gleeson,’ Abby said. ‘And she must have been pregnant around the same time as your mother.’
Cosima shrugged. ‘Maybe there were problems with that too. I don’t know.’
Neither did Abby. But she intended to find out.
‘When was the last time you saw her?’ Abby asked.
‘A few weeks ago,’ Cosima said. ‘Something like that. It was difficult. I would have liked to meet up with her more than we did but Daddy couldn’t stand her.’
‘She was the only link with your mother,’ Abby said. ‘It must have been important to you to keep that connection alive.’
‘Doesn’t matter now, does it?’ Cosima said. ‘She’s dead. Maybe if I hadn’t tried so hard to keep the connection alive, it wouldn’t be so difficult.’
‘What wouldn’t be?’ Abby asked.
‘Losing her,’ Cosima said. ‘Now she’s gone, there’s no one left, is there?’
Three
The rain woke her. A crescendo of water, loud and persistent, bouncing off the roof and the large glass windows in the sitting room. For a brief, blissful moment, she didn’t remember. And then it hit her. The shock of it almost as bad as the first time.
Her body ached from the awkward way she’d slept on the sofa. A crick in her neck hurt each time she moved her head. Her back too felt stiff and unyielding, and a shock of blinding white pain shot up her bruised arm when she shifted in the seat and knocked her elbow against the arm of the chair.
On the coffee table, her phone started ringing. She saw Freya’s number and took the call.
‘Hi.’
‘Freya. What do you want?’
‘I’m calling to see if you’re okay,’ Freya said. ‘I heard about Ginny.’
The rain was like a drumbeat thudding through the house, through her body. She wondered how she’d ever find the energy to do anything ever again. Maybe she never would. Maybe she’d sit here gradually growing weaker, fading until – eventually, thankfully – there was nothing left.
‘Mum?’
‘Sorry,’ Charlotte said. ‘It’s good of you to call. Thank you.’
‘Have they said anything?’ Freya asked. ‘The police. Have they told you what happened?’
‘Hit and run,’ Charlotte said. ‘I don’t know any more than that. Why? What have you heard?’
‘Nothing,’ Freya said. ‘But I can’t help wondering if there’s any connection with what happened to Kieran.’
There was an open bottle of wine on the table. An empty glass beside it. Charlotte poured some wine into the glass, lifted it to her mouth. The smell of it hit her nostrils, sent her stomach into a spasm of revulsion even before she’d got it down her throat.
A second spasm and she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it down. Throwing the phone onto the sofa, she ran from the room, hand over her mouth. She skidded across the polished, parquet floor and into the downstairs cloakroom. Made it just in time. On her knees, she leaned into the toilet, puking up every last bit of everything that was inside her stomach.
When it was over, she stayed where she was, sweat-drenched and shaking, nose full of the acid, bitter smell of her own puke. She sat back, leaned against the cool, white tiled wall, tears running down her face, soaking the collar of her YSL shirt.
She lost track of time. Lost track of everything until the distant sound of a mobile phone finally penetrated the grey emptiness. It wasn’t her phone; the ringtone was different. Not Nick’s either … his phone had some stupid theme tune from a 1980s action movie. The phone rang, stopped, and then a few minutes later started again. It kept doing this, over and over, until she couldn’t bear it any longer.
She pulled herself off the floor and followed the sound, through the hall and down the stairs to the basement kitchen.
* * *
‘Ellen.’ Ger walked into the open-plan office Ellen shared with the rest of her team. ‘You got a moment?’
‘Sure.’ Ellen swivelled her chair around and waited for Ger to sit down.
‘Malcolm’s sorting the warrant that will give us access to Kieran’s finances,’ Ger said. ‘It’ll go to the Mag’s court later. We should have access to his accounts by the end of the day.’
‘That’s great,’ Ellen said. ‘I’ve just been speaking to the lab. Chasing them about that hair sample we found on Kieran’s clothes. They promised to have something for us within the next two days.’
Ger nodded. ‘So we’re slowly making some progress.’
The door opened and Abby walked in, accompanied by Alastair.
‘Virginia Rau was hit by a red car,’ Alastair said. ‘Red paint marks on the victim’s clothes. Not enough from the paint to give us anything on the make or model, I’m afraid.’
A memory flickered at the back of Ellen’s mind but the conversation was already moving on and she had to concentrate on that instead.
‘Are we sure the two deaths are connected?’ Abby asked, taking a seat the other side of Ger while Alastair remained standing.
‘Not sure,’ Ger said. ‘But we’re working on the assumption that they might be. Both victims were involved with the Gleeson family. And now they’re both dead.’
No one spoke for a moment. Ellen didn’t know about anyone else but she was imagining the two victims’ final moments. The shock and the fear and, worst of all, the terrible knowledge that everything they were was about to end.
‘According to Cosima,’ Abby said. ‘Her mother and Ginny had a falling out over children. Ginny wanted children but couldn’t have them. Cosima said Ginny was pretty messed up about it.’
‘I wonder if that’s what Cooper meant when he said she wasn’t right in the head,’ Ellen said.
‘Possibly,’ Ger said. ‘Ellen, can you add Charlotte to your list? Drop past the house at some point, pretend you’re checking she’s okay. See what you can find out about Ginny and ask her again about her husband’s mistress. She must have some idea who it is. Abby, I want you to spend time with Freya. Tell her it’s for her own good. Stay with her even if she doesn’t want you there. Don’t let her out of your sight. Get friendly with her, ask about her relationship with Burton and his relationship with her parents. Is there any way Burton could have got close to her father without her realising it? What might he have found out? Try to crack through that shell and see what you get, okay?’
‘What about the wine bar?’ Ellen asked. ‘Freya said she was there the night Virginia Rau was killed. I was going to drop in and check out her alibi.
’
‘Abby can call in on her way to Freya’s,’ Ger said. ‘That makes most sense. Time is precious and we don’t want to waste it. Okay?’
It wasn’t okay. Ellen was used to doing things her own way. Her previous boss, Ed Baxter, wasn’t perfect but at least he’d given her free rein to run a case the way she wanted. Ger was much more hands-on. Something Ellen didn’t like one single bit.
Around her, people were getting back to work. Abby was standing at her desk, putting things into her bag before driving across to Hither Green. Ellen pushed her chair back, about to stand up, when she remembered.
‘Nick Gleeson,’ she said.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Ger, already at the door, paused and turned around.
‘What about him?’ Ger asked.
‘He drives a red car,’ Ellen said. ‘I saw him in it this morning when I was at the restaurant.’
‘You’re sure about that?’ Ger said.
Ellen remembered how fast the car had been driving. She’d seen his face for less than a second. It had all happened so quickly. The bottoms of her tights were still damp. It might have been quick but she remembered enough.
‘I’m sure,’ she said.
‘Good,’ Ger said. ‘Well done, Ellen. Get onto it straightaway. Check out that car first thing.’
Ger smiled and Ellen found herself smiling back, knowing it was stupid to feel pleased at being praised but enjoying the feeling.
Four
Pete paced around the hallway, checking his mobile every few seconds, waiting for a text that never came. It was almost two o’clock. Cosima’s lectures ended at midday and she’d promised she would come straight home afterwards. She wasn’t home yet and wasn’t answering his texts or phone calls. Pete wasn’t happy.
He opened the front door and walked outside, stood at the gate and peered down the road, looking for her car. Plenty of vehicles but hers wasn’t one of them. He went back inside, stood in the hallway trying to control the thoughts shouting inside his head. Trying to work out what he should do.
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