The Madam

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The Madam Page 25

by Jaime Raven


  ‘What’s happened to Pamela Ferris?’ I asked.

  ‘She’s in a cell and about to be charged with GBH and withholding vital information from the police. She’s also in a bit of a state so we’ll be giving her a psychiatric assessment.’

  ‘Have you talked to Strickland?’

  ‘Indeed we have. But he’s naturally denying everything.’

  ‘So is he likely to get away with it?’

  Ash allowed himself the luxury of a smile. ‘I very much doubt it. We obtained a warrant to search his house and flat and we’ve checked his phones. Turns out he’s been in regular contact with McGrath and Ferris over the past four years.’

  ‘So you’ve got him banged to rights?’

  ‘No question about that, but we’ve also got something else that should cheer you up even more.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Ash pushed a large brown envelope across the table towards me.

  ‘Have a look in there.’

  I took out a black and white photograph of a car that appeared to have been taken at night.

  ‘It’s a traffic camera shot of a Mazda heading towards Ruby Gillespie’s street just before she was murdered. It belongs to Ron Parks. You can just about see two people in the front seats. We believe Sean Delaney is the second person.’

  ‘So does this prove to you that I didn’t kill Ruby?’

  ‘Not by itself it doesn’t,’ he said. ‘But the killers were careless, no doubt because they assumed that once we’d collared you we wouldn’t put too much effort into the investigation.’

  ‘What do you mean by careless?’

  ‘We arrested Parks three hours ago. Just in time I think, because it looked like he was about to take off. Anyway, he was wearing the same shoes he had on last night and one of them had a trace of blood on the sole that is a match for Ruby’s.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘I reckon it’s only a matter of time before he cracks and starts talking. We’ll chivvy him along with some empty promises.’

  ‘What about Delaney?’ I said.

  ‘We’ve confirmed through dental records that it was his body on the houseboat. The fire officer’s provisional report suggests it was arson.’

  ‘So someone killed him.’

  ‘Either that or he killed himself. It’s probably one of those cases we’ll never get to the bottom of through a total lack of evidence.’

  There was something in the way he looked at me that left me in no doubt that he knew I’d been involved.

  I began to feel uncomfortable, so quickly changed the subject.

  ‘Have you talked to Karina Gorski’s brother yet? He’ll want to know what Ferris said on the DVD.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not yet. But we’ve started searching the wood near the pub in Ashurst where Ferris said she was buried. As soon as we find something we’ll inform him.’

  There was a long, heavy silence during which tears welled up in my eyes.

  ‘I think it’s safe to assume that you won’t be charged with Ruby’s murder,’ Ash said. ‘And we’ve got enough evidence already on Strickland, McGrath and Parks to hold them in custody. As soon as one of them starts to blab the whole thing will collapse like a house of cards.’

  Now I did start to cry. I couldn’t hold it back.

  ‘I’ve done you a terrible injustice, Lizzie,’ Ash said. ‘On the Benedict case I jumped to the wrong conclusion and failed to realise that two fellow officers were manipulating me along with the evidence. I should have been more on the ball. On top of that I’ve said some vile things to you since then. I apologise wholeheartedly. I’ll do whatever is necessary to see that you’re well compensated for the time you spent inside.’

  There was no way I was prepared to accept his apology, and I wasn’t going to pretend I did just to make him feel better. In fact I suddenly couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

  ‘So am I free to go?’ I said.

  ‘Of course. For your information the appropriate authority will be in touch about having your conviction quashed.’

  It was small consolation for having lost a son and so many years of my life.

  ‘I also called your mother to put her in the picture,’ he said. ‘I hope that was okay. There’s been a lot of news coverage, and I felt it only fair to let her know how things stood.’

  ‘How did she react?’

  ‘She sounded pleased and relieved, especially when I said we’d uncovered evidence proving you didn’t kill Rufus Benedict.’

  I felt guilty because I hadn’t thought to call her. I made a mental note to go and see her as soon as I got the chance.

  ‘There’s a driver downstairs waiting to take you home,’ Ash said.

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not going home. I’m going to the hospital, but I need to pick up my car outside the Ferris house first. So the driver can drop me there.’

  28

  There were more tears when I finally got to the hospital. Scar and I shed them as we clung desperately to each other. In fact Scar got so emotional that I feared her stitches would burst open.

  ‘You did it, babe,’ she said. ‘I’m proud of you.’

  ‘But I couldn’t have done it without you by my side,’ I said. ‘You stuck by me when most people would have run a mile. I won’t forget it.’

  ‘We’re a team, Lizzie. Have been since the day we started sharing a cell.’

  ‘Turns out that was one of the luckiest days of my life,’ I said.

  She smiled. ‘I love you so much, babe.’

  ‘And I love you more than you can ever imagine.’

  Tiny cleared his throat to get our attention.

  ‘So what about me, girls? Can I be part of this little lovefest?’

  We both laughed and I gave him a big hug.

  ‘You’ll be my friend for life, Tiny,’ I told him. ‘I can never thank you enough for what you did for me.’

  I thought he might have a little cry too, but being a man he naturally managed to hold it in.

  I gave them the good news about no longer being a murder suspect and then quickly ran through everything that had happened to me – from my encounter with Joe Strickland to Neil Ferris’s filmed confession.

  They were relieved that I was in the clear and I was relieved that Scar was looking so much better. The doctors were keeping her in one more night for observation, but she was already on the mend.

  I stayed at her bedside for an hour and then told her I had to go home to change.

  Before leaving I asked Tiny to step outside into the corridor. There I gave him another hug and thanked him for what he’d done.

  ‘I’m sorry you were drawn into this,’ I said. ‘Especially for what happened on the houseboat.’

  He smiled. ‘Best we don’t ever mention that again, Lizzie.’

  I smiled back. ‘Agreed.’

  I didn’t go straight home. Instead I drove to my mother’s house. As soon as she opened the door I could tell that she too had been crying. Her eyes were raw and her make-up smudged.

  It was also immediately evident that her attitude towards me had changed. There was a warm glow in her expression that hadn’t been there before.

  ‘My God, you look dreadful,’ she said. ‘I’ll make you something to eat and run you a bath.’

  ‘I’d rather have a cuddle,’ I said.

  She enfolded me in her arms and I felt her tears on my face.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, my love,’ she sobbed. ‘And I’m sorry for the way I acted towards you. I feel deeply ashamed. Please forgive me.’

  ‘Of course I forgive you,’ I said. ‘You’re my mum. And there’s no need to be ashamed. I’ve always been a crap daughter and I’ve caused you a lot of pain over the years. I was to blame for the fact that we never got on. And you were right when you said that I was ultimately responsible for what happened to Leo. I should have been here for him and for you.’

  ‘The way I treated you was wrong, Lizzie. But I want you to know that despite
what I did and said I always mentioned you in my prayers and asked God to look out for you.’

  I felt my heart miss a beat.

  ‘I didn’t doubt that for a minute, Mum. But as far as I’m concerned that’s all in the past. This is the start of a new and happier phase in our lives.’

  My brother appeared in the hallway suddenly, looking confused.

  ‘I’ve been worried about you, sis.’

  I broke away from my mother and embraced him. ‘I’m on top of the world, Marky. So there’s no need to worry.’

  ‘Where’s your friend? I like her. She said she’d be coming back.’

  ‘And she will. I’ll bring her round tomorrow. In fact you’ll be seeing a lot more of her from now on because we’re an item.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ my mother said with a smile that I really appreciated.

  ‘Are you shocked?’ I asked her.

  The smile turned into a chuckle. ‘Don’t be daft. In fact I’ve got a feeling that she’ll make you happier than any man ever would.’

  It was probably the nicest thing my mother had ever said to me, and it sent a tingle down my spine.

  Suddenly I was filled with a deep sense of elation. For the first time in my life I felt optimistic about the future.

  I really did believe that my luck had changed and the bad times were behind me.

  EPILOGUE

  A month later Karina Gorski was laid to rest in a proper grave. It had taken the police a week to uncover her remains in the New Forest using ground penetrating radar equipment.

  Scar and I attended the funeral, which took place in the same cemetery where Leo was buried. As we stood with the other mourners I could see my son’s headstone in the distance.

  No trace of McGrath’s DNA was found on what was left of Karina. But that didn’t matter because after days of intense questioning he had finally confessed to being involved in her death, claiming it was a tragic accident.

  He had also owned up to being on the take and had implicated Joe Strickland. Strickland was facing a number of charges ranging from bribery to conspiracy to murder.

  Strickland’s main nemesis was Sean Delaney’s cousin Ron Parks, who had been charged with murdering Ruby Gillespie and Rufus Benedict. He’d told the police that the killings were carried out on Strickland’s orders. He had also admitted attacking me and my brother.

  So it had been a busy month, during which my picture had appeared in all the papers and on various television news programmes.

  But I didn’t mind because for a change they’d all been saying nice things about me.

  And telling their readers and viewers that Lizzie Wells wasn’t a cold-blooded killer after all.

  Coming Soon …

  The Alibi

  Bev Chambers is the best crime reporter in London.

  She comes from a family of villains herself – and she isn’t afraid to bend the rules in order to get a story.

  Megan Fuller, former soap star, has been stabbed to death at her home in South London. Media is rife and the pressure

  is on to expose the killer.

  Danny Shapiro, the notorious gangster, becomes the

  prime suspect because of his stormy relationship with

  the fallen celebrity.

  But Danny has a watertight alibi, so the police can’t touch him. But that doesn’t stop Bev. She’s suspicious and makes it her business to pursue the story.

  A story which ends in tragedy and heartbreak.

  To Lyanne, Ellie and Jodie – my three wonderful daughters.

  PROLOGUE

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, you pathetic bitch. You brought this on yourself.’

  The words fell out of his mouth on the back of a ragged breath.

  Through the tears that blurred her vision, Megan Fuller watched him straighten up and step away from her. She wanted to plead for her life, to beg for forgiveness, but she couldn’t speak because her mouth was filled with blood and fragments of broken teeth.

  She had never known pain like it, not since she was robbed of her virginity as a child. Back then she had at least known that she wasn’t going to die. But now she feared that she had only seconds to live. From the demented look in his eyes she could tell that he had completely lost it. The red mist had consumed him. He was in the grip of a dark rage, and not for the first time. She’d seen it happen before and had likened it then to someone being possessed by the Devil.

  He gave her a look of sneering contempt as he stared down at her, his face tense, jaw locked, blue veins standing out on his neck.

  ‘I warned you,’ he yelled. ‘It didn’t have to be like this.’

  Every molecule in her body was screaming, and hot tears spilled from her eyes.

  She should never have let him in. It had been the mother of all mistakes. He was fired up before stepping over the threshold, intent on making her regret what she had threatened to do to him.

  After slamming the front door behind him, he had launched into a furious rant, accusing her of being a money-grabbing whore. She had tried to calm him down by offering to make him a cup of tea.

  But it wasn’t tea he was after. He wanted her to tell him that she was backing down and that he didn’t have to worry. But her refusal to do so had wound him up to the point where he’d snapped.

  He’d smashed his fist into her face. Not once but twice. The first blow struck her mouth and stopped her from screaming. The second blow broke her nose and sent her sprawling backwards onto the kitchen floor.

  Now she was at his mercy, unable to cry out as she watched him reach towards the knife block on the worktop. He withdrew the one she used for cutting vegetables. The sight of it paralysed her with fear.

  ‘You were a fool to think I’d let you get away with it, Megan. The others might cave in, but I fucking won’t.’

  His voice was high-pitched and filled with menace, and his chest expanded alarmingly with every breath.

  Panic seized her and she tried to push herself up, but he responded by stamping on her right arm.

  There was no stopping him now, she realised. Even if she could talk he was too far gone to listen to reason.

  ‘You’ve always been a frigging liberty taker,’ he fumed. ‘But this time you’ve overstepped the mark big time.’

  The knife was above her now, and as he squeezed the steel handle the blood retreated from his knuckles.

  She tried again to scream but it snagged in her throat and suddenly she couldn’t even draw breath.

  At the same time he lowered himself until his knee was pressed into her chest and his weight was threatening to crush her breastbone.

  Face clenched with murderous fury, he moved his hand so that the tip of the knife was pressed against her windpipe. She could actually feel the adrenaline fizzing through her veins like a bolt of electricity.

  A voice in her head was pleading with a God she had never believed in.

  Please don’t let him do it.

  Please make him see sense.

  She managed to swallow back the blood in her mouth and let out a strangled sob. But that was about all she could do.

  ‘I can’t let you live, Megan,’ he said, and the harsh odour of his breath caused her nostrils to flare. ‘I realise that now. If I do I know you’ll make it your business to destroy me.’

  She arched her body, desperate to throw him off, but he was too heavy and too determined.

  Suddenly all hope took flight and she felt herself go limp.

  Then she closed her eyes because she couldn’t bear to look at his face as he plunged the knife into her throat.

  CHAPTER ONE

  BEV CHAMBERS

  I jolted awake to the sound of my mother’s voice and the earthy aroma of instant coffee.

  ‘You need to get up,’ she said. ‘The paper phoned and they want you to call them back straight away.’

  I forced my eyes open and felt a throbbing pain at the base of my skull, made worse by the harsh sunlight streaming in through a gap
in the curtains.

  ‘Oh, Jesus,’ I groaned.

  ‘Let me guess,’ my mother said, placing a mug on the bedside table. ‘You’ve got a hangover.’

  I rolled on my side, squinted at the flickering numbers on the digital clock.

  ‘Bloody hell, Mum. It’s only half-eight.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said, her tone disapproving. ‘It’s also Saturday – one of only two days in the week when Beverley Chambers gets to spend quality time with her daughter.’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ I said. ‘Is she still in bed?’

  ‘You must be joking. She’s been up for an hour. I’ve washed and dressed her and she’s having breakfast. She thinks you’re taking her to the park.’

  I felt the inevitable wave of guilt wash over me. It had been a mistake to drink so much last night. But then how else would I have got through what had been such a tiresome ordeal?

  ‘How bad is it?’ my mother asked.

  I closed my eyes, held my breath, tried to assess the level of discomfort.

  ‘On a scale of one to ten I’d say it’s an eleven,’ I said.

  My mother exhaled a long breath. ‘Then sit up and drink some coffee. It’ll make you feel better.’

  I hauled myself up and placed my back against the headboard. I had to close my eyes again to stop the room from spinning. When I opened them my mother was still standing there looking down at me. Her arms were folded across her ample chest and she was shaking her head.

  I sipped at the coffee. It was strong and sweet and I felt it burn a track down the back of my throat.

  ‘When did the office call?’ I said.

  ‘A few minutes ago,’ my mother said. ‘I answered your phone because you left it in your bag – which you left on the floor in the hallway, along with your coat and shoes.’

  I couldn’t resist a smile. It was like going back to when I was a wayward teenager. Most weekends I’d roll in plastered, barely remembering what I’d been up to. My poor mum had put up with a lot in those days and even now, aged twenty-nine and with a kid of my own, I was still a bit of a handful. Still cursed with a reckless streak.

 

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