The Dog Walker

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by Lesley Thomson




  THE DOG WALKER

  Lesley Thomson

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  About this Book

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  www.headofzeus.com

  About The Dog Walker

  A haunted house, a broken family and a body that has never been found. Stella and Jack must reawaken the secrets of the past in order to solve the mysteries of the present.

  January, 1987. In the depths of winter, only joggers and dog walkers brave the Thames towpath after dark. Helen Honeysett, a young newlywed, sets off for an evening run from her riverside cottage. Only her dog returns.

  Twenty-nine years later, her husband asks Stella Darnell, a private detective, and her side-kick Jack Harmon, to find out what happened all those years ago.

  But when the five households on that desolate stretch of towpath refuse to give up their secrets, Stella and Jack find themselves hunting a killer whose trail has long gone cold.

  For Alfred, who gave me the idea

  Contents

  Cover

  Welcome Page

  About The Dog Walker

  Dedication

  Map

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About Lesley Thomson

  About The Detective’s Daughter Series

  From the Editor of this Book

  An Invitation from the Publisher

  Copyright

  Map

  Prologue

  January 1987

  On a hot summer’s day the Thames towpath between Kew Bridge and Mortlake Crematorium is stippled with sunlight spilling through willow fronds and shading oaks. Birdsong twitters above the rumble of a District line train crossing Kew Railway Bridge. Although in London, the leafy towpath resembles a pastoral idyll. Cyclists weave around strolling couples and families straggling with scooters and pushchairs.

  In deepest darkest winter, lamplight from the north bank is absorbed in the black waters and only joggers and dog walkers brave the towpath.

  On this night, a figure walked briskly beside the Thames. The sweeping arc of a torch picked out puddles in the mud. A dog nosing along the bank cocked its ears. The person – a man or a woman in baggy waterproofs – paused. There was the thud of footsteps. Emerging out of the gloom came a jogger accompanied by a dog. The dog walker moved to the river’s edge to make way.

  ‘Good evening!’ the dog walker hailed the receding figure. No reply. The jogger’s dog was circling on the path; he pooed and, kicking his back legs in triumph or relief, raced away.

  Clear of trees, the path was stained by the orange of the light-polluted sky. The dog walker strode on along the path, seemingly unfazed by the slap of the river against the bank and rustling in bushes that might suggest a creeping assailant.

  The arch of Chiswick Bridge was a tomb in which ice cracking beneath the dog walker’s step was amplified.

  It’s the dog walker with their inquisitive pet straying off the beaten track who’s likely to come upon the body of a murder victim. Bent on their daily routine, rarely does it occur to them that they themselves could be a victim.

  ‘Oh, it’s you!’ The words hung in the wintry air.

  1

  Monday, 4 January 2016

  Stella Darnell headed smartly along Shepherd’s Bush Green, trim in a green waxed jacket, wool-lined collar zipped to her chin against the searing wind, flat-soled black-leather ankle boots clipping on the frosty pavement, a styled pixie bob framing a lightly made-up complexion. A leather rucksack on one shoulder. A diminutive apricot poodle, shaggy and unstyled, ‘Crufts-trotted’ at her heel.

  The morning had started badly because it had started late. For the first time in Stella’s memory she had overslept. Embroiled in a dream in which she shot up with the alarm, dressed and searched without success for her boots, she had been stunned to wake at seven to find she was in bed. By half past the Great West Road was snarled up and what would have been a fifteen-minute journey at six took an hour. One reason was a collision between a Range Rover Evoque and a Fiat 500 on Hammersmith Broadway. The Evoque’s registration was ‘Pow3r 1’. Jack said a personalized plate was a sign of the owner’s character. Stella’s, a birthday present from her brother Dale, was ‘CS1’; it stood for Clean Slate, although several clients had jokily suggested ‘Crime Scene Investigation’. Jack suggested that Dale intended it to signify the two sides of her life. Stella, a cleaner for most of the day, was, with Jack Harmon, for the rest of the day and much of the night, a private detective. Her decision to open a detective agency, made a couple of years ago, wasn’t yet official. She and Jack operated on an as-and-when basis.

  As her van drifted past the accident, Stella took in the scene. The driver, a blonde woman in an embroidered coat, high heels and huge sunglasses despite there being no sun, was hectoring a bespectacled man with thinning hair who gazed forlornly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his cord jacket, at the crushed wing of his Fiat. The Evoque was undamaged. With the trained eye of a police officer’s daughter, Stella saw, from the angle of the vehicles, that Pow3r 1 had swapped lanes and rammed the Fiat’s offside. The Evoque was at fault, but as she drew level Stella heard the man apologize.

  *

  Stella shouldered the street door up to her office. It was locked. This was unheard of. She had lost count of her reminders to the insurance brokers on the top floor to keep the door locked against intruders. Emails, laminated notices and personal entreaties were ignored, resulting in delivery couriers – usually for the brokers – coming to Clean Slate on the first floor.

  Stella was unused to needing her key and had to search for it. She was crouching down, digging in her rucksack, when the door opened. There was a shriek and Stanley let loose a barrage of shouty b
arks.

  ‘Stella! I didn’t see you sitting on the ground!’ Beverly was Clean Slate’s young office assistant. Permanently cheerful, she attacked her work with an unbounded enthusiasm that Stella could find overwhelming.

  ‘I’m not sitting…’ Stella found the key and stood up.

  As ever Beverly looked immaculate. She wore knee-high boots, a short black dress, thick black tights and a skimpy green bolero jacket. She squatted down and vigorously petted Stanley, presenting her face to be licked. ‘I’m popping next door for milk and Jackie says to get biscuits! We’ve got that woman coming in about the toilet cleaning job.’ She flapped Stanley’s ears merrily.

  ‘Washrooms, not just toilets…’ Stella exclaimed. ‘She’s coming to the office?’

  ‘Yeah, bummer! We’ve been here since dawn deep cleaning. But you can’t turn a sheep into a wolf or whatever. Do you fancy anything from the shop?’

  ‘No, you’re all right, Bev, thanks.’ Stella spotted Dariusz Adomek, the owner of the mini-mart, frowning at an aubergine on the vegetable display outside his shop. She waved.

  ‘Get chocolate bourbons. They’re her favourite!’ Dariusz winked at Stella. ‘A gift from me.’ Before Stella could object, he followed Beverly inside.

  Pausing by the open door, Stella considered that she did like bourbons best. Like her, Adomek made it his business to know what his customers liked. She sniffed. The air in the passage was tainted with stale cooking although no one in the building cooked. The greasy smell somehow seeped in from a hamburger place two shops down. Jackie wanted Clean Slate to move to a larger and more attractive office. Stella was reluctant; she hated change. And she’d miss her chats with Dariusz Adomek. But when a major potential client insisted on coming to the office, as this Angela Morrish had, Stella saw Jackie’s point.

  Beverly called to her across the fruit and veg, ‘Ooh, I forgot, there’s two women waiting for you. One’s in a bad mood, the other’s well weird!’ She did a ‘bad mood’ face and swooped into the shop.

  ‘I haven’t got anyone in my diary…’ Stella always kept the first week after New Year free. Then again, she never overslept. Could she have forgotten the appointment?

  Leading Stanley up the steep staircase, she considered how threadbare lino, peeling Anaglypta wallpaper and the cloying odour of meat would do nothing for the woman’s mood.

  On the landing, Stella smelled something else. Orange, rose and jasmine cut with patchouli. Her hypersensitive olfactory sense identified Chanel’s Coco Mademoiselle. The visitor had expensive taste. Nerving herself, Stella went inside: ‘Sorry I’m late.’

  ‘Late for you who’s always here before dawn! It’s only nine, love.’ Jackie Makepeace, Stella’s PA, office manager and perhaps her closest friend, took Stanley’s lead from her. Nodding at a door marked ‘Stella Darnell, Chief Executive’, she dropped her voice. ‘You’ve got visitors. They came on spec, but insist on seeing you, or one of them does. I offered them drinks. One doesn’t drink caffeine; the other said she’s in a hurry.’ Jackie’s expression betrayed nothing.

  A woman sat in Stella’s swivel chair; she was tapping a Clean Slate branded pen on the desk, a slow beat that counted Stella in. ‘I expected you’d be here.’ She didn’t look up.

  Stella moved to the guest chair and, looking at the woman properly, had to contain astonishment. Blond hair, embroidered coat, sunglasses pushed up on to her head. Pow3r 1. Stella was less incredulous at the coincidence – Jack said there were no such things as coincidences (or accidents) – than that Pow3r 1 had got to the office before her. Up close she was younger than Stella had supposed, in her twenties, not thirties. Stella’s assessment had been formed from a hazy assumption that a younger woman was less likely to own a car which left little change from thirty-five thousand quid. Stella’s dad whispered in her head, as he often did since his death, ‘Observe closely, never assume. Work with what you see, not what you think you see.’

  The woman shot a peremptory hand across the desk, clearly keen to dispose of pleasantries. ‘Natasha Latimer.’ Her grip was crushing.

  Knuckles smarting, Stella enquired, ‘How may I help you?’

  ‘I want Blank Slate to do a job.’

  ‘It’s Clean Sl— I can come and do an estimate.’

  ‘That won’t work. You won’t see a thing in a short visit.’

  Stella nearly shouted with surprise. A woman with long hair braided at the ends with brightly coloured beads was brooding at the window. Wrapped in a custard-yellow cloak possibly adapted from a blanket, she wore flared maroon cords, blue shoes with crepe soles, a loose-knit cardigan – loose in that the stitches were giving way – over a red cotton smock that reached to her knees. This had to be the visitor whom Beverly had dubbed weird. She wore a woollen hat with a bobble the size of Stanley that protruded behind her. It gave her the look of a chess piece – the bishop, Stella vaguely thought.

  ‘She will see all she needs to see.’ Natasha Latimer readjusted the sunglasses on her head. ‘This is my sister.’ She spoke as if referring to something unfortunate that couldn’t be helped.

  ‘Claudia. Greetings.’ The woman floated over to the coat stand. For a ludicrous second, Stella caught a resemblance between her and the stand. ‘You need to be there a good long time to appreciate it.’

  ‘How is that?’ Stella didn’t say that three decades of short visits to do estimates had proved a success.

  ‘You won’t see her in broad daylight.’ Claudia was kindly.

  ‘She will see what’s necessary.’ Natasha Latimer beat a tattoo with the pen.

  ‘Daytime’s usually when—’ Stella began.

  ‘When’s the last time you saw a ghost?’ Claudia might have been asking Stella when she’d last caught a cold.

  Stella had just redrafted the company’s ‘lone-working’ policy so was up on the risks of being by herself with a client. Or two. Jackie was the other side of the wall. She didn’t air her opinion that ghosts didn’t exist – she wouldn’t contradict a potential client even though she guessed Latimer would be right there with her. What she did know was that a job for two sisters who had already exhibited polar opposite opinions was bound to end in disaster. She was debating how to refuse the job without offending one or both of them. Clients who saw ghosts might also see non-existent stains and dust and quibble over invoices.

  Stella’s cleaning business was successful, bolstered with a mix of commercial contracts and domestic clients. She only took on clients who gave clear cleaning briefs and were respectful to the operatives. Natasha Latimer was brusque and ill-tempered. Her sister would probably be fine, but whatever she asked the cleaner to do, Stella was pretty sure Latimer would object to. Her likely wealth – evidenced by the coat, the car and wafts of Chanel – was no guarantee of good manners or regular payment. Stella focused on how to get Jackie’s help in ushering Pow3r 1 and her sister out. She took a subtle approach. ‘I’ve actually never seen a ghost.’

  ‘And you never will!’ Latimer was snappish.

  Jack could chat on happily about spectral sightings – he claimed to encounter ghosts all the time. Since her dad’s death, Stella sometimes got the impression Terry Darnell had left a room as she entered it and, as just now, his voice broke into her thinking. But she didn’t believe his pearls of wisdom came from beyond the grave. Latimer was talking.

  ‘...so I moved in before Christmas. My new deep basement is double the square meterage of the house. I’ve gone right under the garden. Everything is “smart”, no extraneous switches, and it’s soundproofed. In and out. A humidifier keeps out the damp. You can’t hear it… floor’s water-resistant. The property is now worth millions. It’s old and was crying out for a makeover. The location is totally perfect, what with the river and Kew Gardens, and there’s only a few properties in the street.’

  ‘It has a lovely community feel,’ Claudia interposed, her fear­some bobble hat nodding. ‘Tucked away by the river. You can get right in touch with your soul there. The river
speaks—’

  ‘Yah, community, right!’ Latimer whipped off her sunglasses and spun them around by one of the arms. ‘Bunch of robots.’ She plucked at her coat with manicured fingers.

  Claudia smiled to herself. ‘When I step inside she’s waiting for me.’

  ‘Who is?’ Stella hoped they hadn’t already told her.

  ‘That fucking woman!’ Latimer spat out the words, her eyes blazing.

  Stella wished she’d gone with Jackie’s advice of a panic button under the desk. Claudia didn’t appear dangerous, but with talk of spirits, she was only marginally more reassuring. Jack would be in his element. She mustered herself. ‘Which fu— Which woman?’ Did she mean her sister?

  Latimer whacked the pen on the desk, sending a staple remover whizzing on to the carpet. Bangles clinking, Claudia waltzed over and picked it up. Stella reassured herself that her office wasn’t soundproofed; she could shout for help. Except that would be rude. Not for the first time, she considered how being polite could be the death of her.

  ‘Helen Honeysett has found peace there.’ Claudia projected an air of patient explanation. ‘I’ve told Nats to chill. The girl is harmless, a gentle soul.’

  ‘Who is harmless?’ Jack believed using a modulated voice calmed a person in a frenzy. To her own ear, Stella sounded as if she was addressing a halfwit. It would explain Claudia’s peculiar lilting delivery; she’d be used to her sister.

  ‘Was, not is! Helen Whatsit. That estate agent.’ Latimer uttered the term like a swear word. ‘Claudia says she’s haunting the house.’

  ‘Ah.’ Stella understood. Natasha Latimer was blaming the estate agent for disappointment in her purchase. Sometimes clients blamed Clean Slate for their new home, despite a thorough clean, not being what they hoped for. ‘Your estate agent should have returned the key when you complet—’

  ‘Not that one! The girl that went missing in 1987. The year I was born.’ Latimer huffed as if personally affronted by this fact. ‘She lived in my street. She went out jogging in the dark on the towpath that runs right by my property and was never seen again. Claudia says she’s haunting me!’ She clicked the pen rapidly. ‘Claudia, I said leave this to me.’ Latimer flashed a warning look at her sister smiling beatifically by the coat stand.

 

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