Rodney shook his head. ‘Mate, you’re not an idiot. These things happen to people. Go on.’
Scott sighed heavily. ‘Well, we’ve done enough stories about them – you can imagine the rest. Ended up having to sell pretty much everything to meet the payments. That’s why the place was stripped when you came round, Nath.’
Nathan nodded.
‘Elaine went mental when I eventually had to tell her what was up. She’s standing by me, amazingly. I love her so much, don’t know what I’d do without her and the kids …’ His voice shook, and Cora leapt from her chair and perched on the edge of his, draping a comforting arm around his shoulders. He sank his face into his hands and breathed deeply.
‘So, that explains some of what’s been going on – but what about the police, the murder? How does that tie in, Scott?’
Scott raised his head, an anguished look on his face.
‘That day, after I had the disciplinary with Jeanette, I had one last payment to make to the loan shark. Elaine had borrowed it from her parents, enough to pay it all off, clean slate. I was shit scared after seeing Jeanette – she told me I was on my last chance, one more strike and I was out, and that’s why I lost it in the lift. Thought, if I lost my job, how would I ever pay the in-laws back, make it up to Elaine, you know?’
Cora hugged him, and he smiled weakly and continued.
‘So I went back to where I’d parked the van, grabbed the bag with the money – all had to be in cash of course – and went off to pay the guy. I knew there was no easy parking near his flat, you know what central London’s like, so I walked instead of driving, and then walked back. Course, the cops eventually saw all that on CCTV, and to them it looked like I’d parked up nearby, grabbed – I dunno, a murder weapon? A disguise? – and headed back to kill the old bitch. And I didn’t want to say anything, because I was so ashamed, and I thought the loan shark guy would never back up the story anyway. So I just stayed schtum, when the cops questioned me …’
‘You’ve cleared it all up now, though?’ Rodney sounded anxious.
‘Yeah, yeah. Amazingly, the bloke said OK, he’d tell the cops I was with him and what for. Said he had nothing to fear, was running a legal money lending business and so on. And he had a security camera in his office, showed the cops footage of me in there, handing over money at around eight o’clock that morning, which gives me a solid alibi. I should have just fessed up in the first place, I’m a dick. I put you all through all that worry, and Elaine …’
His voice wobbled again and his eyes filled with tears. He wiped them away angrily.
‘Oh, Scott.’ Cora’s eyes were wet too as she hugged him again, and Nathan and Rodney rose from the sofa simultaneously and patted Scott awkwardly on the back.
‘Thanks so much guys. You don’t know what it means …’
‘Rubbish, mate.’ Nathan’s voice was gruff with emotion. ‘We’re just glad it’s all out in the open at last … oh bugger.’
He glared at his phone which had just started to ring loudly on the coffee table.
‘Nathan here. Oh. OK. Well, we’re all at the hotel already …’
Scott, Cora, and Rodney looked anxiously at each other. Now what? Another hundred-mile drive to a different location?
‘OK, great. Thanks. Have a good night!’ Nathan ended the call with a grin.
‘Well, that’s a bit of a result! Story’s cancelled, but as we’re all here and the hotel’s paid for, they said we might as well stay here till we’re assigned tomorrow!’
‘Woo-hooo!’ Rodney threw his scarf in the air, Cora flung herself joyfully back into her own armchair and even Scott managed a broad smile.
Nathan was already heading for the bar. ‘Two white wines and a pint of cider?’ he called over his shoulder.
‘Cheers, mate!’ Scott was looking happier than Cora had seen him in a long time. She smiled fondly at him. Thank goodness, maybe things could go back to normal now. She stretched luxuriously in her chair, long legs warmed by the fire, as Scott suddenly noticed Rodney’s remarkable shirt and started ribbing him mercilessly.
Cora listened happily. Whoever had killed Jeanette, it definitely wasn’t her friend Scott. And that would do, for now.
‘So that’s that. Another dead end. We’re screwed on this one, guys. I have no idea where to look next. Any ideas? Anyone? Please?’
Adam stood up abruptly, shoving his chair noisily backwards. His frustrated gaze swept the room, taking in the glum, weary faces. Damn it. A high profile murder like this, that seemed to have happened right under the noses of dozens of people, and they couldn’t solve it? HE couldn’t solve it? This was not good. Not good at all. Bloody terrible in fact. The CCTV pictures from the loan shark’s office had finally confirmed Scott Edson’s alibi, and Adam was all out of ideas.
‘What about the newsreader – Alice Lomas? Should we look at her more closely?’
Adam glanced at Donna, the officer who’d spoken up. He shook his head.
‘No. We’ve considered her. Opportunity – possibly. Motive – none. None that we can see anyway. Feel free to investigate her a bit more if you like, but I’m not bringing her in unless you get something concrete. She’s never out of the papers, and she seems to be a right little diva – we don’t need the bad publicity.’
Donna nodded and sat down.
Adam sighed and looked at his notes. The only other person on his list with a question mark against her name was Samantha Tindall, the ambitious producer who was now doing Kendrick’s job, but he had nothing to actually connect her to the murder either. It was hopeless. With a heavy heart, he made the announcement he’d been dreading.
‘Hence, folks, we’re going to have to scale down the case. Some of you will be back to the day job as from tomorrow – I’ll send a memo round as to who’s staying on it with me full time. Thanks for your hard work – I’ll bring you back on board if we get another lead. And we’ll release the body, let her family organise the funeral, they’ve waited long enough.’
His voice tailed off. He turned and walked to the window, his own reflection glaring back at him, and pressed his nose against the glass. Outside, cars crawled by, ‘bumper to bumper’ as the cheery radio traffic reporters loved to call it. London’s rush hour in full swing. Adam slowly bumped his forehead against the cold pane. Who the hell had killed Jeanette Kendrick? Why couldn’t he figure this out? He stopped bumping and turned to face the room again. His colleagues were back at their desks, but there was a subdued air in the big office.
Scaling down. How he hated that phrase. But this wasn’t over yet. He’d find Kendrick’s killer if it was the last thing he ever did. Failure was simply not an option. And, fortified by the thought, he headed for the coffee machine.
‘And then he said … he said …’ Cora dissolved into helpless giggles.
Nathan snorted and picked up where she’d left off.
‘He said, in his poshest voice: “What do you think of the clitoris on the back wall? Planted it myself, you know …”’
Scott and Rodney howled. Cora was already laughing so much she could barely sit upright, and slid slowly off her chair onto the carpet.
Nathan hauled her back up, still giggling. They’d been swapping funny work stories for the past hour, this latest about a rather unpopular director who’d invited some of the studio crew round for dinner and shown them round his newly designed garden.
Scott wiped his eyes. ‘Well, that beats my chlamydia cock-up, that’s for sure! Clitoris! Hilarious. Clematis. Why do we seem to find that so hard to remember? Clematis. Clematis …’
He got up and headed for the gents’, still muttering the word under his breath. The others looked at each other contentedly. They had Scott back. And they had an unexpected free night, together in a hotel. Wonderful! Cora drained her wine glass and then jumped as her phone beeped.
‘Uh oh. They’d better not move us now … I’ve had a bit too much to drink to start driving anywhere …’
Then sh
e sighed with relief as she read the message.
‘What?’ Nathan frowned.
‘Just Benjamin. Telling me he loves me.’ Cora grinned.
‘Phew.’ Rodney waved his empty glass. ‘One more before we hit the hay?’
She nodded. ‘One last drink, and then a proper night’s sleep. How blissful.’
‘How blissful indeed,’ sighed Rodney.
Cora stared into the fire, and for a moment Justin and the stalker flashed back into her mind. She felt the familiar lurch of unease. Then, determined not to let anything spoil the evening, she turned back to the boys. They were all together, Scott was part of the gang again. All was right with the world.
40
One month later – Wednesday 28th March
Adam was leaning across the table, bright-eyed with anticipation. He loved Cora’s ridiculous stories about her life as a roving reporter – they were the highlight of what had become a weekly coffee shop meeting, ostensibly to pass on updates on Jeanette’s murder. However, as he’d had nothing at all to report for weeks, with the investigation now at a total standstill, their little get-togethers were really just getting-to-know-you sessions, during which he always tried to forget that she was actually dating someone the magazines called ‘the hottest man on telly’. He could deny it to himself all he liked, but he had become rather fond of Miss Cora Baxter.
‘So, your colleagues in Solihull announced a crackdown on airguns after a spate of cat-shootings – remember, about a year ago? – and we were sent off there to do a live with this poor cat that had been shot six times and survived, but was too traumatised to leave the house,’ Cora was saying.
She paused to nibble her Bath bun, swallowed and continued. ‘Except, of course, when me and the boys turned up at the house at 5 a.m. to set up for the live, the flipping cat wasn’t there, having gone out the night before and not come home. Honestly, I felt sick! I rang Jeanette and, well, you can imagine …’
Adam grinned as Cora drew herself up to her full height in her chair and launched into her Jeanette impression.
‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE BLOODY CAT HAS GONE OUT? HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE TRAUMATISED! BLOODY WELL GO AND FIND HIM THEN!’
Two elderly women sitting opposite turned simultaneously and glared at Cora. She shrank back in her seat, suddenly aware that she was being rather loud.
‘Er, sorry,’ she said.
The ladies tutted and returned to their coffee and croissants. Adam sniggered.
‘You’re hilarious. What happened next?’
What had happened was that Cora, her crew and the cat’s owners had spent the next forty-five minutes stumbling around the garden in the dark, shrieking the cat’s name and waking up all the neighbours. Two and a half minutes after they gave up, and just as Cora, with heavy heart, was about to dial Jeanette’s number again, the cat strolled nonchalantly into the kitchen, looking remarkably untraumatised. Thankfully, he was scarred enough by his airgun wounds to look traumatised which, after all, was all that really mattered on TV, and the story was saved.
‘So all was well that ended well. But that old telly adage, never work with children and animals – so true!’ Cora said vehemently, and took a large and satisfying bite out of her bun.
Adam swallowed the last of his rhubarb crumble and grinned. ‘Anyway – how’s your stalker situation these days? Anything new to report?’
Cora shook her head. ‘Nothing for a week now. Maybe he’s got bored and given up, eh? I’m not that interesting to stalk, after all – go to work, come home, that’s about it.’
She had, in fact, almost convinced herself that she’d imagined the whole thing. Why would anyone follow her? It made no sense. It was, she’d decided, much more likely that the strange stalker was actually a fan of Benjamin’s, as most of the incidents had happened when she was with him. There were some peculiar people around, and she wasn’t going to waste any more precious time worrying about it. If that was how this particular fan got his kicks, let him! Justin had gone quiet, too – no more scary warning messages. And she hadn’t seen the navy car again either, deliberately not looking too closely at cars behind her as she drove. The sense of imminent danger that had freaked her so much a few weeks ago had eased.
She smiled at Adam, at the same time feeling slightly guilty that she was sitting here enjoying his company so much when she hadn’t seen Benjamin for over a week. Both their schedules had been insane, and there’d simply been no days when both of them were free. She missed him terribly, but she had to acknowledge somewhat reluctantly that Adam did a rather good job of distracting her from pining for her boyfriend. She looked forward immensely to their weekly briefings, and she suspected he did too. Harry had joined them once or twice too since Cora’s first meeting with him, and she’d grown rather fond of the little boy as well. It was, for some reason, a fondness she hadn’t shared with Benjamin. After all, she reasoned, these were just work meetings, and as she and her boyfriend tended not to discuss the finer details of work much when they were together, there seemed no need to tell him about unimportant meetings. That was fair enough, wasn’t it?
Adam was pouring himself a second cup of tea from the big pot on the table.
‘Me too, please,’ said Cora, pushing her cup towards him. As he obliged, she suddenly became aware of a familiar voice behind her. She turned, but saw nobody. Then she heard it again.
‘I feel … sick. When I think about it. And so, so guilty. I really do,’ the voice said.
Alice? That was Alice Lomas. Where was she?
Adam had recognised the distinctive whiny tones too. ‘Is that Alice? Oh look – there’s an alcove, there at the back. Hadn’t noticed it before. She must be sitting round there,’ he murmured.
Cora turned round to see what he meant. Sure enough, tucked away in the rear of the cosy café was a little booth.
‘What did she say … she feels guilty? Wonder what she’s been up to then?’ whispered Cora.
‘I wonder …’ Adam’s eyes were glued to the alcove.
Alice was still talking, but her voice was too low for them to make out any more of the conversation, and moments later she fell silent.
‘Was she on the phone, do you think? Or is she with somebody?’ Cora asked quietly.
‘Sounded like a phone call … I only heard one voice. Oh – watch out, she’s on the move.’
Abruptly, the subject of their interest emerged from the booth, phone in hand, and marched smartly towards the exit. Cora steeled herself. There was bound to be a nasty quip from the presenter as she passed by. Adam raised an eyebrow. Although he’d never seen them together, he had become well aware of the animosity between the two colleagues. Somehow, he suspected Cora was able to give as well as she got.
Alice, a distracted look on her face, was almost alongside their table when she noticed them. To Cora’s astonishment, the newsreader stopped dead in her tracks and instantly flushed bright red.
‘Cora. And … Sergeant, er …’ stammered Alice, who never seemed to be able to remember Adam’s rank.
‘Good afternoon, Alice.’ Adam smiled politely.
Cora stared. ‘Are you feeling alright, Alice?’ The girl was practically luminous.
‘Yes. Fine. Why on earth wouldn’t I be? Just didn’t expect to see you here, that’s all. Anyway, goodbye.’
‘Bye, then.’ Cora watched, bemused, as Alice rushed out into the drizzle and disappeared round the corner.
‘Well. That was strange. Why did she go so red? And what was she feeling guilty about? More tea?’
Adam shook his head slowly. ‘No idea. And yes, more tea, thanks.’
But, as Cora topped up their cups, he wondered – and not for the first time – if he’d been too hasty in ruling Alice Lomas out of the murder enquiry. Jeanette’s body had finally been released to her family for burial last week, and at the funeral Alice had been practically hysterical, sobbing loudly by the grave, ashen-faced and trembling. Her behaviour had been in stark contrast to that of
other members of staff, who had been respectful and solemn but not visibly distraught. This was, after all, a boss who had not been terribly popular. Even Jeanette’s mother and other family members, while clearly deeply distressed, had wept in a more dignified manner than the newsreader. Yes, Alice was certainly behaving a little abnormally.
Making a mental note to go back over her statement with a fine tooth comb, Adam smiled at Cora, who’d just launched into another anecdote. Maybe, one day soon, he’d actually have something interesting to tell her.
41
Benjamin stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, then turned away and flung himself truculently on the bed.
‘You’re an idiot, Benjamin Boland. You really need to sort yourself out,’ he announced.
He loved Cora, he really did. He told her so all the time, something he’d never said and truly meant to any woman in his life up until now. But over the past few weeks it had been difficult for them to meet up due to their conflicting work schedules, and he’d screwed up. He’d done something that a man in love really should not do. He’d slept with somebody else.
And not just once. Three times. The same somebody else. There had been no need to be unfaithful, no need at all. He felt slightly sick. The thought of losing Cora genuinely horrified him. He wouldn’t do it again, he vowed, as he shrugged off his clothes and crawled under the duvet. Definitely not. Absolutely, one hundred per cent, NOT.
‘Wha … whassup? Huh?’
Cora woke with a jump so violent she banged her head on the side window. Window? Hang on, why was there a window in her bed? She rubbed her eyes and glared at it. Yes, there was definitely a window there.
‘Who put that there? I don’t understand …’ she croaked.
‘You’re in the car, stupid. Stakeout, remember?’ Clarity was restored by Nathan’s voice at her right shoulder.
The Dead Dog Day Page 21