by Adam Croft
‘You say you heard shouting?’ Hardwick asked. ‘What exactly did you hear?’
‘I couldn’t really make out the words,’ she replied, looking slightly disappointed with herself. ‘Although I did hear Jennifer say that she felt like she’d been embarrassed and shown up in front of everyone. That she felt stupid.’
‘Interesting,’ Hardwick said. ‘Shown up how?’
‘I don’t know. I couldn’t really hear what was going on. I presume she was angry because James left her on her own and she got pestered by that Nick bloke.’
‘How long was Darryl out of the room for?’ Ellis asked.
‘I don’t know. He’d already gone out by the time I realised what was happening. Can’t have been long. He said James was banging on the door and she wouldn’t let him in, so he told James to leave it and go back to the bar.’
‘And did he?’
‘Yeah, Darryl watched him go. Think he wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to go making any more noise, because I wasn’t feeling great.’
‘And did you get back to sleep after that?’ Hardwick asked.
‘Not properly, no. I was awake for most of the night. That’s probably why I feel so tired now. Sorry, I’m sure I’m not being much help to you in this state.’
‘You’re being very helpful, I can assure you,’ Hardwick said. ‘So if you barely slept that night, can you say with some certainty that Darryl didn’t leave the room?’
‘Yes, definitely. I would’ve heard. When he came back in he didn’t want to go back to the bar any more, so he locked the door and put the key in the drawer next to me. He’s pretty security-conscious,’ she said, smiling. ‘One of his better attributes. He always makes me feel safe.’
‘And can you think of anyone staying here who would’ve wanted to harm Jennifer? Had she fallen out with anyone?’ Ellis asked.
‘Oh, she was always falling out with people. A lot of people didn’t really get her. I’ve known Jennifer for years, so I know that deep down she’s a nice person. She’s just a bit arrogant and stuff sometimes. I think it’s a defensive thing, so she doesn’t have to show her real emotions. I’m not really one for conflict, so most of it kind of went over my head, but she did have a knack of upsetting people. She’d only been here half a day, though — I can’t imagine anyone would’ve killed her over some petty argument!’
‘You’d be surprised the things that can cause an unhinged person to commit murder, Miss French,’ Hardwick said. What about in your party? Did any of you particularly dislike Jennifer?’
‘No, not at all. I’ve been friends with her since I was a little girl, and James and Jennifer had a very strong relationship. They were inseparable. Darryl can’t stand James, but gets on fine with Jennifer. I can’t imagine for one minute it was any of them.’
25
Ellis sat down to speak to Ryan Farley, having left Hardwick to ask some further questions to Alicia. Once he’d finished, he planned to have another quick chat with Darryl Potts.
Ryan, for his quiet demeanour, seemed like a man who took great care over his appearance. He clearly looked after his body, being one of those irritating people who could get away with wearing tight t-shirts wherever he went without having to worry about a bulging belly protruding from underneath. This was not a state of physicality Ellis Flint was in.
Ryan seemed to be the only person not yet drinking alcohol that afternoon, instead opting for “mocktails”, a selection of non-alcoholic cocktails which tasted far more sweet and sickly than the traditional cocktails. At least those ones had the benefit of an alcoholic kick.
‘I met Nick and Paul by mistake, really,’ he said. ‘Was a couple of years ago now. I used to play five-a-side football on a Wednesday night for a team called Avington ‘Arriers. I’d just started working where I am now, at a warehouse, and the hours had mucked me up a bit. I do six days on, two days off, so my weekends tend to shift back a day each week. Really buggered me up at first, and I turned up on the Tuesday instead of the Wednesday.
‘Anyway, Nick and Paul, they played for a team called The Howlermen, and one of their lads hadn’t turned up that night so they asked if I wanted to play for them. I enjoyed it more than I did with the other lads, so I ended up playing with them every week and that was that.’
‘Must be tough work, in a warehouse,’ Ellis probed. ‘Must mean getting up early.’
‘Oh yeah, definitely. I’m usually up at five-thirty, out the house by six and at work for six-thirty for a seven o’clock start. I like to get there a bit early and relax for half an hour, you know? Otherwise by the time you’ve started running around you’ve already been at it for an hour or so getting ready and stuff in the morning.’
‘You must find it hard to get up later on your days off, I’d imagine?’ Ellis asked.
‘Yeah, I do. Even here I’m up early. I think it’s the strong sun. What with the time difference, when we first got here I was waking up about an hour after we went to bed. It’s not too bad now, though. More like five or six or something.’
‘I see. And do you tend to stay in bed or get up?’
‘I tend to stay in bed if I can. Not much point getting up too early round here, as no-one else bothers.’
‘And what about the morning Jennifer Alexander was found?’ Ellis asked. ‘Did you stay in bed that morning?’
‘I don’t remember, to be honest,’ Ryan said, seeming to think for a moment. ‘Probably, yeah.’
‘Only your friend, Paul, says you got up and left the apartment at about five-thirty that morning.’
Ryan sat silently for a few moments, his face turning a shade of pink as he realised the implications.
‘Yeah. That morning. Yeah. Yeah, I couldn’t get back to sleep — never can after a skinful the night before — so I went to check what time breakfast was.’
‘And did you notice anything odd, at all? Whether Jennifer’s door was open or closed?’
‘No, nothing. I don’t walk past their apartment to get to the reception or breakfast area, so I wouldn’t know. Listen, I didn’t go anywhere near there, all right?’ Ellis said nothing, instead choosing to leave the tension hanging in the air, hoping Ryan might have something to tell him. ‘I was gone for a minute or two at most, you can ask Paul. I walked up to reception to see if there was anything on the walls about breakfast, and then came back.’
‘We did ask Paul,’ Ellis said. ‘And he said you were gone for around five minutes.’
Ryan’s face went a little redder, this time with anger.
‘Well he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Why would he say that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ellis said. ‘Why would he?’
‘Guilty conscience if you ask me,’ Ryan replied. ‘He’s not exactly an angel himself, let me tell you.’
Ellis leaned in a little closer as Ryan Farley began to explain.
26
The sun beat down on the back of their necks as Hardwick and Flint sauntered through the town of Kakagoustos, the heat feeling like a weight which was being carried. To them at that moment, though, it was nothing compared to the weight of the investigation into the murder of Jennifer Alexander.
The humidity was stifling. Their breathing was laboured and harsh, much like Ellis imagined Jennifer’s must have been in the last few moments of her life as the very essence of her being was squeezed from her.
He had reflected on death quite a lot in the past couple of years. Ellis had never really had any real experience of death before he’d met Hardwick, other than having watched his mother die slowly and painfully from bowel cancer a few years previously. His father had left before he was born, and he had never even concerned himself with finding out his name, never mind whether he was still alive or not.
To him, his mother’s death had been somewhat expected. The shock of her diagnosis was devastating, but there was always the hope that she’d survive it. On many days, it was more an expectation than a hope. Then, one day, she was gone. But there had
always been that chance, and it was diametrically opposed to the sort of death he and Hardwick dealt with. That sort of death was unexpected, unanticipated and usually horrendously violent. It wasn’t something which could be explained away with science, nor were you simply one of the statistical victims of disease. To be suddenly and violently taken away from your loved ones was a type of death which Ellis could never really understand.
Hardwick, of course, seemed to be used to it. He didn’t know too much about Hardwick’s life before he’d met him in the Freemason’s Arms in Tollinghill that Friday night two years previously, and each time he had tried to elicit some sort of information, he had been rebuffed. It was clear that Kempston Hardwick was an extremely private person. Perhaps he had skeletons of his own to hide. Perhaps his experiences with death and murder had been more pronounced than Ellis’s. It would explain a lot.
Ellis often wondered if Hardwick’s cold and emotionless demeanour could ever lead him to kill a man himself, should the need arise. Was there ever a need for murder? He thought not, but it seemed that many disagreed.
He turned his thoughts to the case in hand as it struck him that Hardwick had been one of the last people up and about on the evening Jennifer Alexander died. Surely, if anyone… No. He shook the thought from his mind as quickly as it had entered it.
‘I’ve been speaking to Darryl Potts again,’ Ellis said, unable to look directly at Hardwick. ‘He told me that Alicia wasn’t keen on the idea of coming away with Jennifer and James, mainly because of the bad blood between James and him, but also because Jennifer and James had actually paid for the holiday.’
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Hardwick asked.
‘Well, apparently Darryl and Alicia have fallen on hard times recently. Alicia used to work as a bank manager in Birmingham, but the bank sold a load of branches after the credit crunch and she was made redundant. Banks aren’t exactly hiring people left right and centre at the moment, so she’s been a bit stuck. Darryl seemed to think that Alicia felt as though she was some sort of pity case, that she was too proud and wasn’t at all comfortable with Jennifer and James paying for them to come away with them.’
‘Interesting, but probably not significant, Ellis,’ Hardwick replied.
A small dog darted across the road and began yapping at their ankles, a nearby shopkeeper shooing it away with a broom. That the shopkeeper seemed to be the keeper of a shop specialising in kebabs was not a piece of dark humour which was lost on Hardwick. Ellis seemed to barely notice.
They stopped under the awning of a small shop selling newspapers, postcards and beach toys in order to enjoy the shade for a few moments.
‘Do you not think pride could cause someone to commit murder?’ Ellis asked.
‘In exceptional circumstances, perhaps, if the person was severely unhinged. But none of Jennifer’s group strike me as that. Besides which, they’ve all got alibis. We know neither Darryl nor Alicia left the room, plus James was on CCTV all night and was nowhere near the apartment. Add to that the fact that none of them have a motive, and it’s looking pretty weak, don’t you think?’
‘There’s always a motive. Couldn’t James have done it to collect the life insurance money?’ Ellis asked, desperately clutching at straws.
‘Jennifer didn’t have life insurance, Ellis. James already told us that much. They rented a place together and weren’t married, so he wouldn’t be entitled to anything anyway. Any murder needs means, motive and opportunity, Ellis, as you well know. James, Darryl and Alicia all had no means, no motive and no opportunity. No, unfortunately that makes it a little bit tricky, because it means that the murderer must be one of the other guests…’
‘Well, when I spoke to Ryan Farley, he wasn’t at all pleased that Paul had insinuated something about him leaving to check the breakfast times. In fact, he let slip something rather interesting about Paul himself…’
27
Paul Erenson’s face was ashen white, the week’s sun tan having very quickly disappeared as Hardwick told him what he knew.
At first, his reaction was purely defensive, wanting to know who had told Hardwick what he had just relayed. The panic was clear, the realisation having set in that there was every possibility that this could make him a prime suspect for the murder of Jennifer Alexander.
‘Look, I was going through a bad patch, all right? It was a stupid mistake and I’ve paid the price.’
‘All the same, we’re going to need the details from you directly, rather than just from a third person,’ Hardwick said.
Paul Erenson bowed his head and began to speak. ‘It was about four years ago. I was living with my girlfriend at the time, because my parents had kicked me out. She was about two years older than me. I was drunk. I came home and she started some sort of argument about how long I’d been out. The argument got a bit heated and the comments got personal. I just saw red. I started hitting her and the next thing I know I was trying to strangle her with a belt. She pressed charges and I spent twelve weeks inside. Will that do?’
‘If it’s the truth, yes,’ Hardwick said.
‘Of course it’s the bloody truth! I’m hardly going to admit to something like that if it’s not, am I? Look, I did something stupid and I paid the price for it. I’d never been violent before and I’ve never been violent since. Ryan’s just wound up about me saying he left the room — which he did — and is trying to deflect some prying eyes. Can’t you even see that?’
Hardwick didn’t answer the question, but instead chose to ask his own.
‘Why did your parents kick you out, exactly?’
Paul sighed, seemingly having had to tell this story a number of times and not having wanted to revisit it at all.
‘It was my dad, mainly. He’s of the school of thought that if you haven’t got a full-time job by your sixteenth birthday, preferably down the mines, that you’re already a failure in life. It’s a northern thing. My mum kind of agreed, but got him to accept that these days people tended to go to college, so he shut up for two years and then when I didn’t immediately walk out of college in a position to start paying him rent, he kicked me out.’
‘Presumably you had to find a job then, though?’
‘Well, yeah. Not that I wasn’t trying anyway. I had to sleep on a mate’s settee for about a month, then I had enough money to rent my own flat for a little while, working three jobs to pay for it. It was just stupid. Then I met Michelle and I moved in with her, which freed things up a bit.’
‘Was it a violent relationship?’
‘It hadn’t been, not until that night. Unfortunately she told the police it had happened loads of times before that. Lying cow. Then I lost two of my jobs and had to start again from scratch. My dad won’t talk to me at all — thinks I’m not only a waste of space but a woman beater, and my mum’s too ashamed to persuade him otherwise. It was a nightmare trying to get my life back on track again, but I did it. Just one stupid mistake, that was all. It doesn’t make me a career criminal or a violent person.’
‘Mr Erenson, had you had any falling out with Jennifer Alexander at all?’
Paul took a sip of his drink. ‘No, I don’t think I ever even spoke to her. Not properly, anyway.’
‘But your friend Nick Roder had, hadn’t he?’
‘Well, yeah, but that’s nothing to do with me. He just tried it on with her, I think. No news there, though — he tries it on with everyone.’
‘Did he fall out with Jennifer, would you say?’
Paul laughed as he took another sip of his drink. ‘No, I wouldn’t. I’d say she fell out with him, though. She seemed a bit weird, really. Flaunting it around the pool and wearing low-cut dresses and stuff, giving blokes the come-on. She’d only been here a few hours and had already made a name for herself. But as soon as he approached her the first time around the pool in the afternoon, she was like some sort of ice maiden. Nick thought it was a playing-hard-to-get kind of thing, so he kept having a go. Turns out she wasn’t
too keen on that.’ He laughed again.
‘Is Nick a jealous person?’ Hardwick asked.
‘I dunno really. I think he was kind of surprised, ‘cos he tends to get what he wants in that department. He’s pretty good with the birds, is Nick. To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention either way. What was funniest for me was watching Hayley’s reaction. That was pure gold.’ Seeing Hardwick’s raised eyebrow, Paul continued. ‘They’d be kind of seeing each other, if you see what I mean. Seeing to each other might be a better way to put it. When Nick was trying it on with that Jennifer bird, Hayley wasn’t best pleased. Then again, neither was Jennifer’s other half, that James bloke.’
As Hardwick concluded their conversation, he noticed the crystal-clear, azure blue swimming pool rippling in the afternoon sun and realised that, for him and this case, nothing was getting clearer at all. In fact, the waters were becoming murkier with every passing minute.
28
Maria Giannakopoulos seemed a little less perturbed by the whole situation than her father did. In fact, she seemed to be capable of showing very little emotion at all, always wearing the same neutral face and seeming like the sort of person who did, rather than the sort of person who felt. When Hardwick and Flint asked her why this was, she seemed to have a rather cathartic response.
‘I’ve been trying to persuade my father to sell the place for years,’ she said, in perfect English. ‘It’s been a long time since the Kollidis made any money. The whole country is dying, and here is no different. I guess now we will have to leave. It is — how you say? — the final nail in the coffin.’
As she spoke, she shuffled piles of paper, sorting various sheets into different piles and folders, although with very little in the way of concentration going into it. It seemed almost like a distraction; an act to look busy. The reception desk was strewn with paper on the side at which Maria was sat, the surface of which was a good two feet lower on her side than it was on the marble counter which the guests had at their chest height.