by MA Comley
“I don’t. Perhaps your colleagues have it.”
Katy left the table and contacted the switchboard at the station. Lorne overheard her asking which officers had attended the scene before asking to be patched through to them. “Collins, have you got an address for the woman witness at the restaurant last night…Great, let’s have it…Thanks.”
Katy returned and showed Lorne the address she’d written down in her notebook. Lorne ran the address through her mind and nodded when she recollected the whereabouts of the road in question. After questioning Clement further, Katy asked for Danny’s address. Clement obliged, and Lorne and Katy left the restaurant.
“Where shall we go first? Danny or the woman?” Katy asked, jumping into the driver’s seat.
“Looks like Danny is the closest. Try him, and then we’ll track down the woman.”
They pulled up outside one of the worst terrace houses Lorne had ever laid eyes on. It looked like a squatters’ residence. Katy screwed up her mouth as she rang the doorbell. “Ever wish you hadn’t touched something without your plastic gloves on?” She wiped her hand vigorously on her trousers.
“Many a time. What a bloody tip.”
A young man with a full beard, which had the previous evening’s meal clinging to the hairs, pulled open the door.
“Is Danny in?” Katy asked the youth.
“Who wants to know?” He wedged himself between the door and the frame so that neither of the women could look up the hall behind him.
Katy flashed her warrant card in his face. “DS Foster. Is he in?”
The front door slammed shut before Katy had a chance to put her foot in the way.
“Damn.”
“Give it time.” Lorne strained her ear. “Listen, I think I can hear someone coming up the hallway.”
When the door opened again, a different young man wearing boxer shorts and a creased white T-shirt asked, “You wanted to talk to me?”
“If you’re Danny, yes. Can we come in?” Katy asked.
He held the door open for them, but Katy stalled when she saw all the crap littering the hallway.
Lorne nudged her in the back. “Maybe we’ll talk just here,” she suggested.
Danny shrugged. “Suits me. The others won’t be too keen on the filth being here anyway. What do you want to know?”
“We’d like you to go over the events leading up to the discovery of the body last night.”
He slid down the wall and sat on the front step.
“I’ve never seen a dead ’un before.”
“The events?” Katy pressed the young man, whose colour had drained from his cheeks.
“I was looking out for this bill dodger. The boss won’t let anyone crap on him like that. Well, the slop bucket was full, so I took her out back to show her where the bins were. That’s when I tripped over the body. Man, what a waste. She was like…well, beautiful. Why the fuck would someone kill a beauty like that?”
“That’s what we intend to find out, Danny. Anything else you can tell us? Did you see anyone else in the area? Hear anyone leave when you opened the door, perhaps?”
“Nah, nothing. I turned and ran into the kitchen, but that woman I was with kept staring at the body. Looked like she was in shock to me. In the end, some of my mates had to pull her back into the kitchen. The police questioned her, and she left right away.”
Katy nodded and asked, “Did you disturb the scene at all?”
“Apart from tripping over the body? No, I did that and scurried back into the kitchen. The boss called the cops…er, the police, and we were ordered not to go back out there.”
“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful. If we want to know anything else, we’ll be in touch.” Katy flipped shut her notebook, and she and Lorne returned to the car.
“I can’t see us getting much joy out of this Bella woman.”
Lorne shrugged. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
Bella Croft’s flat was in another undesirable part of the East End. As she got out of the car, Lorne noticed a mountain of rubbish at one end of the road, which was a dead end. The smell wafted up the road as they approached the woman’s flat.
“Jesus, that honks. What is the matter with the council not clearing that mess up?”
“Maybe the bin men only come fortnightly around here. Might be the locals are dumping it there to make a point,” Lorne suggested.
“I think they’ve managed to do that all right. Okay, let’s see what Ms. Croft has to say. Maybe she’ll take pity on us and make us a cup of coffee even.”
Lorne cringed at Katy’s humour. “I think I’ll pass on that one if she does.”
They waited and waited for the bell to be answered. Katy turned to walk away just as the door opened. A youngish-looking woman answered the door. Her hair was ruffled as though they had just woken her up.
“Yes,” she asked in a croaky voice.
Katy showed the woman her ID. “We’d like a word with you about the incident that occurred at the restaurant, if it’s convenient?”
“It’s not,” the woman retorted abruptly as she started to shut the door on them.
Katy put her hand up to prevent it from shutting. “That’s a shame. We’d really like to get to the bottom of this crime as soon as possible. Please reconsider?”
The woman bunched up her housecoat at the front of her neck and opened the door to let them in. Lorne and Katy followed the woman up a cluttered communal hallway through to a small dingy flat at the rear of the property. Despite the mess, Lorne was glad that lingering unwanted smells didn’t attack them when they entered. The woman sat on the threadbare sofa, but didn’t extend an offer for them to take a seat.
“Can you tell us what you saw last night at the restaurant?”
“A dead woman.”
“Okay, did you see anyone in the area around the bins where you discovered the body?”
“Nope.”
Lorne could tell Katy was getting irritated by the woman’s reluctance to help them, so she elbowed Katy, intimating that she wanted a go at questioning the girl. Katy gave a brief nod to give her the all-clear.
“Did you see the woman in the restaurant? I mean, before she died?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she glared at Lorne. Seconds later, the glare turned into the blank look they’d received when she’d opened the door. “I went there to eat my meal, that’s all.”
“A meal that you couldn’t pay for?”
“It wasn’t intentional.” The woman’s croaky voice strained, and her gaze dropped to the floor.
“So, you went out for a meal and didn’t notice the diners sitting on the tables around you?”
“That’s right.”
Lorne could tell the woman was lying because of her lack of eye contact. She needed to know why. “Did you know the victim, Ms. Croft? Is that why you’re so upset?”
Bella’s hand dropped from her neck, and Lorne gasped when she saw the bruising around her throat. She walked forward and pulled the woman’s dressing gown apart.
“Don’t!”
“Who did this to you? When did this happen? Before or after you were at the restaurant?”
“Before,” she replied too quickly for Lorne’s liking.
Lorne flicked her head for Katy to join her on the other side of the room. She leaned in and whispered, “Can you ring the restaurant, ask Mr. Clement if the woman had any marks on her neck when he was dealing with her?”
“Good idea. I’ll ring him outside. Be right back. Will you be all right with her?”
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
As soon as Katy left the room under Ms. Croft’s inquisitive glare, Lorne stepped back to stand in front of the woman.
“Tell me what happened? Did you have an argument with your boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“So a stranger tried to throttle you, did they?”
“No. Nothing like that. I wore a scarf too tightly and d
idn’t notice. This was the result.”
“Really? What spaceship do you think I arrived on this morning, Ms. Croft?”
The woman shot out of the chair and stood inches before Lorne. Her lip curled. “I don’t give a shit what you believe. It’s the truth.”
Katy came back into the room. “Step back.”
“It’s okay, Katy. Ms. Croft and I were having a little chat.”
Outnumbered, the woman let her shoulders slouch in defeat, and she threw herself back onto the sofa.
“Do you want to tell us again how you got those marks on your neck? Because the manager of the restaurant told me they weren’t there when you left his place last night.”
Bella gave Katy an evil stare.
“Or do you want to take this down the station?”
Bella let out an exasperated sigh and turned her head away to face the wall beside her. “I had a falling out with someone on the way home.”
“My God, you were attacked? Where?”
Lorne marvelled at the way Katy seemed to be sucked in by the woman’s statement. She had significant doubts about the woman’s honesty. Something just didn’t sit right with her. However, she had no intention of letting on and continued to listen and watch the woman closely as Katy asked more questions.
“Where?” Katy insisted, raising her voice.
“Around the corner. A gang of youths pounced on me.”
Another lie, Lorne thought. The woman’s body language was doing her no favours at all. Lorne urged Katy to pursue the matter.
“I’ll get uniform out to take a statement. How many youths were there?”
Still facing away from them, Bella replied quietly, “Four or five. I can’t remember. It all happened so quickly.”
Katy sat beside the woman and placed a hand over hers. The woman flinched and vehemently shook Katy’s hand off. “Were you raped?” Katy asked.
The woman started sobbing. Lorne knew it was a form of deception. “I think we should take Ms. Croft to hospital or the rape crisis centre. They’ll be the best ones to handle the situation, Katy.”
“No! I don’t want to go anywhere. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
Lorne raised her eyebrows at Katy, urging her to press the woman further.
“Were you raped or not?” Katy withdrew her hand and placed it in her own lap.
“I didn’t say I was. You did.”
“It’s clear that you don’t want to talk about this incident, and I can’t force you to talk about it against your will, but I would still like to know what you saw last night at the restaurant. Did you see the victim sitting at a table during the evening?”
“No.”
“That’s funny. According to the manager, you were sitting alongside the woman at the very next table.”
“So? I went there to eat, not to stare at the other punters. Is that what you do when you go out for a meal?”
“You have a point. But you must’ve at least seen the other occupants on the nearby tables when the hostess led you through the restaurant?”
“I didn’t, end of.”
Katy glanced up at Lorne and shrugged. Lorne winked at her and motioned that they should leave.
“I’m going to send a couple of uniformed officers around to take a statement from you.”
“For what?”
“There’s no need to be so irate, Ms. Croft. We’re trying to help you here.”
“Sorry.”
“The officers will take a statement concerning the restaurant incident. I’ll leave it up to you if you want to inform them about the attack you suffered on the way home.” Katy stood up.
Bella remained seated, and they showed themselves out.
“What do you make of that?” Katy asked once they were back in the car.
“She’s a born liar, according to her body language. The question is why? Why would you want to cover up being attacked like that? She suffered a pretty bad assault by the looks of the marks on her neck.”
“You’re right. But we can’t force her to tell us, can we?”
“Nope. However, it shouldn’t stop us from checking into Ms. Croft’s background a bit more.”
“I’m not sure I’ll have the time to do that, Lorne. You know as well as I do that the murder enquiry takes priority.”
“I think it would be a mistake to discount her, Katy. I don’t have any proof that she’s lying, but you know that my gut instinct is pretty good.”
“Let me see what I can do. We better get back to the station.”
Lorne looked over her shoulder and saw Bella Croft watching through a crack in the front door. We’ll be back, lady. Mark my words on that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bella’s nerves were jangling as she left the elevator and walked across the carpeted landing to Morris’s flat. She tapped lightly on the front door and nervously smoothed down her skirt, wiping her sweaty palms on the fabric in the process.
“Darling, I’ve missed you so much. Come in.” Morris swept back theatrically to let her enter. “What? No kiss? Is something wrong, my love?”
Her lips parted into a strained smile. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? What do you mean?” Morris moved behind her and removed her coat. Bella clung to the scarf she’d wrapped around her neck, ensuring he didn’t take it.
“The police came to my flat today.” She let the words linger in the air for a few seconds before she added, “It’s okay. I didn’t tell them anything about this.” She pointed to her neck, but he shook his head.
“I don’t understand. Is there something wrong with your neck?”
Bella didn’t know if he truly couldn’t remember subjecting her to the injury or whether he was being intentionally obtuse. Digging deep for her courage, she pulled aside the scarf.
His eyes widened, and momentarily, he looked genuinely surprised by the bruising. He reached out, and his fingers gently stroked her neck, tracing every bruise as if it was a precious artefact. “Did I do that?”
She nodded cautiously.
His fingers continued to lightly brush her skin. His hand reached around the back of her neck, then he pulled her to him. “Doesn’t it make our relationship that much more of a thrill?” He kissed her hard, not giving her the chance to answer him. “We need to set you up on another date,” he added, releasing her and walking into the lounge.
No! I never want to kill for you again. I won’t do it. Not now, not ever.
However, as much as she screamed inside, Bella’s mouth refused to form the words to insist that she no longer wanted to be part of his bizarre game. She no longer wanted to be a player in any future schemes, but she either didn’t have the courage to say the words out loud or she was getting used to the thrill of what killing people did for their relationship. She was undecided which was true.
When she went into the lounge, Morris was sitting on the sofa with his laptop open in front of him. “Sit. Here, I’ve picked out a couple you might be interested in. Tell me what you think?”
No! She desperately wanted to bring up the police again, yet she had a feeling he was intentionally ignoring her mention of their visit. The thought of him venting his frustrations out on her told her to keep her mouth shut. The second Bella sat down on the sofa, her thoughts turned to the men on the screen, one of whom would be her next victim. A strange sensation began to stir deep in the pit of her stomach, and soon, it had consumed her whole body.
“He looks a suitable candidate.” She pointed to a man in his mid-thirties, with dark hair and a goatee. She wouldn’t usually have chosen to go out on a date with him, but he had a cuteness about him that attracted her and proved to be irresistible.
“Very well. I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you to meet Mr. Phil Parkinson. I think you’ll make a lovely couple. Do you want to go to a restaurant again, or shall we suggest something else?”
Bella shrugged. She didn’t have any idea what to suggest. All the dates she’d been on in the past had been to
the pub only, not even to a restaurant. Her other dates had shown very little imagination in that respect.
“He looks a fun guy. How are your bowling skills?”
“My what?”
“Bowling. I thought it would be fun to go on a date at the ten-pin bowling alley in town. It would certainly keep the coppers off our backs to change our strategy.”
Bella ignored her warning voice as the excitement built within her. Why would she want to give up feeling this way? She’d never had such an adrenaline rush as she had when she’d thrust the knife into the previous victim. She smiled at the memory. “Bowling sounds good to me. I’ve never done it before, so it’ll be another new experience.”
Morris spent the next twenty minutes creating an account for Bella on one of the newer sites. The one he preferred had closed its virtual doors for good, apparently. Bella poured them both a glass of red wine, and he closed the lid of the laptop and sat back. He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll turn it back on in an hour or so to see if Mr. Parkinson has replied.”
If Bella chewed her nails, she thought she wouldn’t have had any left by the time Morris checked his computer again.
“Yes. He’s agreed. He’s looking forward to sharing an exciting date with you, my dear. Now, how shall we celebrate the news?”
Bella glanced up at him shyly. Her expression told him that they were in the wrong part of his flat for her to show him any gratitude for what he’d done for her. When he started to undress her in the bedroom, she had totally forgiven and forgotten the bruises around her neck.
As he made love to her, the only thing on her mind was how her night out with Mr. Parkinson would end.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lorne checked in on Tony at the hospital first thing Thursday morning, before she attended Karen Meldrew’s funeral. The church was half-full of Karen and Stacy’s family and friends. Stacy invited Lorne to sit with her, and as Lorne expected, Stacy spent most of the service in tears. Lorne didn’t feel uncomfortable by any means. Her own tears coursed down her cheeks as memories of her father’s funeral ran through her mind. It had been a low key affair. The Met had wanted to give Sam Collins a proper send-off, but after consulting with Jade, Lorne had agreed that their father would have preferred a quiet funeral.