by Carol Wyer
He was right. I’d spent the night at Mum’s house. It needed a good clean and she’d forgotten to put the rubbish out again. The bin stank and when I tipped the waste out into the large recycling bin in the yard bluebottles flew out of it, buzzing angrily around my head.
Mum’s beginning to worry me. She’s spending more time at the local pub and there’s a new bloke on the scene – Frank. Frank is a weedy, slimy, weaselly-looking man who works in a betting shop. I don’t know what Mum sees in him other than he drives an old Jaguar X8 sports car. She is always swayed by what she thinks are posh cars. He opens the door to Mum’s house in shorts and a vest that reveal puny arms and legs, and sneers at me when I ask who he is.
‘I’m your mum’s new beau,’ he says, trying to sound clever.
Mum shouts for me to come through and I try to ignore Frank, who smells of some disgusting, pungent aftershave that makes me want to gag. Mum’s pleased to see me but I can’t hand over the money to her, not with Frank in the room, so after a cup of tea I make my excuses and leave.
Frank has wound me up. I’m supposed to be looking after my mother, not him. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to make sure she has money and we can set up somewhere else that will be her home forever. Frank isn’t supposed to be part of that picture. It’ll be a place where she won’t have to prostitute herself any more. Dad is even more unhappy about Frank than me and together we chunter about him all the way up the motorway.
I drove non-stop to Abbots Bromley. I needed to feel that peace and calm I enjoyed while I waited for Lucas to deposit the money in the hides, so after two and a half hours, I pull into the reservoir car park and breathe a sigh.
It’s mid-afternoon and many of the ramblers have left. There are only three cars in the car park. I take the path that leads through the wood and will join the meadow. I want to walk beside the water for a while before I murder Paul, and try to spot the swans, terns, waders and geese that frequent the reservoir, and then stroll into the woods to observe the birds on the feeders. It’ll be what I need to take my mind off Frank.
No sooner have I got into the woods than I spot a figure jogging up the slope. My heart lurches. It’s Paul Matthews. He’s earlier than I expected. I act speedily. I have some washing line in my pocket. Dad reminds me I was going to mend Mum’s broken rotary line with it. I whip it out and tie it around a tree and attach the other end to a tree stump. I have time to put on plastic gloves that I always carry in my pocket. I never know when I might need a pair. Paul is still jogging. I’m sure he hasn’t seen me. Everything is in place. I take a step backwards away from the path and look around. I spot a branch that has conveniently fallen from a tree in recent winds. I collect it and wait in the gloom of the trees.
As Paul Matthews, lost in his own world, races past me, his shoe catches on the washing line. He loses his footing, his arms reach out and try to grab a tree trunk but he bangs his head against the tree, falling into it and grazing his hands as he attempts to save himself. He tumbles to the floor in a heap. His ankle is twisted, and, stunned, he struggles to stand. He calls out for assistance and eventually I come forward.
He doesn’t spot the branch behind my back. Ever the actor he pretends he cares about me. He calls me by my name and says he wants to talk, but it is too late for talking. That particular ship sailed a long time ago. The fury that has been burning in my stomach for sixteen years is unleashed and I swing the branch as hard as I can and hit him on the side of the head.
He drops. I kick him gently with a boot. He doesn’t moan. His body is lifeless. I have killed him. I move him into position and clear up behind me, whistling a ditty as I do. Funny how murdering someone you hate lifts your spirits for a while.
I check to see if anyone has witnessed my actions but there is no one in sight. I lose the branch among the leaves and head back to the car park, empty of vehicles.
Suddenly I feel renewed, as if I have a purpose again. Dad whispers in my ear and I agree. Next on my kill list will be Lucas.
42
‘Welcome back to the Aviator hotel, Detective Inspector Carter. I understand you are not staying with us this time.’
‘I’m not sure at the moment. It depends,’ replied Robyn, smiling politely. ‘I’ve arranged to meet someone. I booked a conference room so I could work while I wait.’
‘Yes, it’s been set up for you. Fourth floor,’ continued the well-groomed girl behind the desk.
Robyn took the lift to the conference room where she threw all her paperwork onto the desk area and ran through it. There was a link between this town and Lucas’s death. She was sure of it. On the journey, she had called to mind the places Paul Matthews had written down in the Farnborough file on his laptop. The trip to Farnborough Hill School had confused her but, as she left the M3, it struck her that she had asked the headmistress the wrong question. She phoned the school and spoke to the registrar who confirmed her suspicion. Zoe Cooper had attended the school for one year. She rang her cousin.
‘We were barking up the wrong tree,’ she told Ross. ‘We were asking about Alice when we should have been asking about Zoe Cooper. Zoe joined the school in her last year, took and passed all her GCSE exams but didn’t stay on for sixth form.’
‘That’s interesting.’
‘And what’s more interesting is that Lucas Matthews had been asking the school about Zoe. He visited it on the twenty-eighth of July. That was the day Paul had arranged to meet the headmistress. However, Lucas didn’t see the headmistress. He spoke to the registrar directly.’
‘Zoe is involved in this then?’
‘Looks that way.’
‘Want me to try and find out more about her?’
‘You’re okay. I’ve got Anna and Mitz working flat out on it.’
‘That’s good. Mitz Patel’s got nothing better to do with his time, unless he’s suddenly discovered love.’
‘Still young, single and available. I think he’s trying to work his way up the ranks before he gets involved with anyone.’
‘Wise chap.’
‘I just rang to talk to Zoe but it’s gone to answerphone. I spoke to the fitness studio where she works and they told me she is taking classes for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll ask her later why she was spotted walking out of the hotel with Lucas Matthews just before he was murdered. I’d rather not call her into the station just yet, even though she appears to be our only suspect. By all accounts the DCI here is a tough nut and he’ll want this all done by the book. I don’t want to drag her in for formal questioning at this stage. I only have one witness who claimed to see a woman with green hair leave the building. I need more than that before I can pull her in or charge her.’
‘Go with what you’re comfortable with. The DCI at Hampshire Constabulary doesn’t need to know your policing methods and neither does Louisa Mulholland.’
‘I’ll do it my way then. I’m also going to talk to Stu Grant at lunchtime. I phoned BizzyAir Business Aviation and he’s meeting me at the hotel on his way to work. Again, I didn’t want to call him into the station. Thought he’d be more relaxed at the hotel. He might have something useful for me, but I need to get him alone.’
‘You’re not using the thumbscrews on him, are you?’
Robyn chuckled. ‘I thought I might.’
‘I’m en route to Jane Clifford. Just stopping off to get her some flowers to cheer her up. Her room looked so gloomy the last time I visited her.’
That was Ross, he had a big heart. He came across as a grouch but he cared about people. He had cared too much when he was on the force, and there were too many distressed victims to care about. It had taken its toll and added to his already skyrocketing stress levels. At least in his new line of work he could pick and choose his cases and hopefully get satisfaction from his job without so much stress.
* * *
Two hours later Robyn’s eyes felt full of grit. Comments in neat cursive writing linked by arrows and red lines revealed the extent of her research. She
stretched her arms above her head and yawned, then stood up, rolling her shoulders to iron out the tension in them.
She’d written that Paul Matthews had been discovered dead near his home on 25 July, five days after he sent his last email to Lucas – a verdict of accidental death had been declared. Lucas had waited until the end of the school year then coincidentally disappeared that same day. Lucas had either killed Paul Matthews then gone on a hunt in Farnborough for an unnamed female, or he had not known his father was dead, having gone undercover to find the woman. He had not divulged anything to his wife and pretended he was going to Thailand. As far as Mary Matthews was concerned he had gone completely off the radar. That was strange. No matter what secrets he kept from his wife he could easily have rung her, even if it were to keep up the pretence of being away. Lucas had visited Farnborough Hill School, the Keep Fit Gym, and the Aviator hotel on 28 July and over the three days before that he had tried to get hold of Jackson Thorne as part of his search for Zoe Cooper, becoming abusive when he couldn’t get a response.
It all smacked of a desperate man. Yet, when he finally noticed Zoe on 28 July at the Aviator Sky Bar, he had not approached her. That part bugged Robyn. Even if the group of men had put him off, surely his desire to talk to her would have outweighed that. He’d come a long way, searched for her and then not spoken to her. It made no sense. And then, there was the fact Zoe was seen leaving the hotel with him later that same evening. Had no one else seen them together?
Someone had wanted Lucas dead – was it to stop him following Zoe? Had Zoe murdered him? The act of cutting off his genitals and leaving them in his mouth suggested someone was disgusted with him. It had to be someone with strength to overpower the man and then commit such an act. The toy rabbit by his body bothered Robyn too. Since discovering the rubber toy rabbit at the Matthews’ house, she felt more than ever that it meant something important, but it was a clue that she could not work out. She was not making sufficient progress uncovering his and probably Mary’s murderer.
She screwed up her eyes in concentration but none of it fitted together or gave her a single clue as to where she should look next. There were too many question marks and pieces that made no sense, like the fact that Paul had worked out he and Lucas needed to find Zoe Cooper and that she lived in Farnborough. How on earth had he come to that conclusion? How had he conjured up that name? Was it linked to Alice or Christina Forman?
Farnborough was miles away from Staffordshire and completely unconnected to his life there, so why had he chosen that town? A flicker of something flitted across her mind and evaporated. There it was again, that niggle, that suggestion she was onto something.
She was about to leave the room for some dinner when her phone buzzed. It was Mitz.
‘I’ve located Christina Forman.’
‘You superstar. Where is she?’
‘In a garden of remembrance near Oxford, place called Bicester.’
‘Dead? That’s a problem. I was hoping she was living in Farnborough or nearby.’
‘She died on the sixteenth of June.’
‘That’s just over eight weeks ago.’
‘That’s correct. Strangled by her lover. I’ve got the details here. Want me to send them to you?’
‘Yes, do that. Thanks, Mitz.’
She rang her cousin and explained about Christina.
‘You want to join me at the remembrance garden later today? I’m still fumbling about here. I know I’m close to working it all out but a distraction might help me get things into place. I’ll email you directions and address. Should only take me just over an hour. I’ll ring when I leave.’
‘Sure. See you there.’
‘Ross.’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you. You’re a great guy.’
‘I know. I’m just one big, lovable hunk.’
* * *
Stu Grant knocked at the door and came in. He dropped his hat onto the table and slipped onto one of the chairs opposite her.
‘Thanks for seeing me. I’m really hoping you can help me further,’ said Robyn. ‘I’m struggling to work out Lucas Matthews’ movements during the week he was here. And I wondered if you happened to notice Zoe Cooper talking to him at any stage of the evening when you were all at the bar together.’
She waited to gauge Stu’s reaction but he did not display any signs other than mild surprise.
‘Zoe? No. She was with us the whole time. Has something happened to the chap? You wouldn’t be questioning me unless there’d been a development.’
‘I’m not at liberty to discuss any such matters, sir. I’m just trying to work out his movements.’
Stu’s mouth turned downwards and he nodded gravely. ‘Well, I can’t really tell you any more than I already did. I thought I spotted him in the Sky Bar. He was standing in a corner. He was drinking from a bottle. That’s it.’
‘I’d like to know a little more about Zoe Cooper. I need to know what happened that night to help get a series of events in order.’
Stu shook his head. ‘I can’t see how that’ll help.’
‘It’s important. I believe Lucas Matthews was hunting Zoe and might have tracked her to the Sky Bar on the night you, Gavin and Jackson were there together with her.’
‘Look, I’m not sure I should. It’s all a bit personal.’ He chewed at his lips for a moment, struggling with his conscience. ‘Okay. We were having a quick drink with a client. Zoe arrived soon after us. She’s a nice girl, very bubbly but she was a little worse for wear that night. She was… how should I put it – uninhibited, friendly. All of the guys at BizzyAir know Zoe. She did a boot camp for us last year. Put us through our paces, I can tell you. She had us working so hard I thought I was going to have a heart attack. She’s very dedicated to her fitness. She used to pop into the Sky Bar after work when she was at the Keep Fit Gym. She knows quite a few members of staff here. She comes in less often now she’s working in London. As I said, she’s a really nice woman and I can’t imagine she’s involved in any wrong doings. I don’t know what else to tell you. She’s a close friend of Jackson’s wife. Maybe you should talk to her. Be careful what you say. What happened the other night, well, it’s delicate.’
He looked away.
‘Are you saying Zoe was indiscreet that night? That she made out with one of your colleagues?’
Stu nodded. ‘It was a surprise to see her like that. She was all over him. It was most unlike her. He’s a married man. He loves his wife. If it gets back to her she’ll string him by his balls, I can tell you. She’s not the understanding sort. It’s not for me to say any more. Other people will get hurt if I do. I don’t think Zoe will have anything to do with your enquiries and you will gain nothing by pursuing this line of enquiry other than upset people I know and care about.’
‘Don’t worry. I am discreet too. I’m not here to be judgemental. I’m trying to uncover what Lucas Matthews was up to. The problem I have is that your story doesn’t tally with what else I have been told. I understand Zoe left the hotel with Lucas Matthews. She was seen. According to my sources, she was leading him out because he was drunk.’
Stu let out a snort of derision. ‘Your source is completely inaccurate. To start with, she was so inebriated she could barely stand up herself, and secondly, she left with one of my colleagues. Please don’t interview him. It really could destroy his relationship if his wife finds out. It was a one-off. No one else needs to know about it.’
‘I understand. Thank you.’
Stu looked relieved. ‘I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.’ He checked his watch. ‘I’m sorry. I have to leave now. Good luck with your investigations. Please bear in mind what I said. I would hate my friends to suffer thanks to you probing into matters.’
‘As I said, I’m discreet. I won’t ruin Jackson Thorne’s marriage.’
He hesitated for a second, before saying, ‘Not Jackson, DI Carter. That would never happen. Zoe had a one-night stand with Gavin Singer, and give
n his wife is a top lawyer it would be best to keep schtum about it.’
As Robyn watched Stu Grant disappear down the stairs, her mobile buzzed. She didn’t recognise the number.
‘Detective Inspector Carter?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Jackson Thorne. Are you still in the area? I need to talk to you, urgently.’
43
Then
How can this have happened? I only saw her last week when that awful Frank was at her house.
I’ve come back with my bag of money to give it to her and tell her it is time to start a whole new life. She has thirty thousand pounds to use as a deposit on a house or flat by the sea. With what I earn, I’ll be able to pay mortgage repayments on it and she won’t have to worry about being beaten up, used, abused or ill-treated ever again. I’m making up for all the bad times. I’m turning her life around for her. I’m saying sorry the only way I know how and now it’s too late.
I punch my fist against the wall of the bedroom. It hurts like hell but I don’t care. Hot, angry tears fill my eyes. I never cry, I won’t cry now, but in spite of my efforts tears drop anyway and anger and sadness mix together, and the small girl hidden deep inside me wants nothing more than to run to her motionless form and be held by her.
She’s lying on the bed, eyes wide open, handcuffed to the bedpost, wearing a garish red, faux-leather bondage outfit that makes me want to gag. How could she stoop to this level? Surely, she had some dignity left?
My father can’t speak either. He is as shocked as me and eventually I hear a small stifled sob that can only be him. His heart is breaking. He has loved her through everything that has happened and now it is too late for our plan to give her what she has only ever wanted – security and love.
I can’t look at her any more and although I want to release her from the handcuffs and hold her so tightly I bring her back to life, I know I can’t. I have to leave her for the police to find. They’ll work out what has happened and track down Frank, for it is surely him who is to blame for this. From where I stand I can see dark marks on her neck. He has strangled her. I ought to go after him and bash his skull in but my father tells me this time I should leave and let Frank get what he deserves.