Catching sight of Geraldine, he broke off abruptly and pressed his lips together.
‘Edward, we’d like a word with you,’ Ian went on.
‘It’s Eddy, not Edward. My name’s Eddy. So, what’s the problem?’ He swayed slightly as he spoke, his speech slurred.
‘Shall we go inside?’
Muttering under his breath, Eddy led them into a small hallway. The threadbare carpet was cluttered with shoes and junk mail.
‘What do you want?’
‘Shall we go in and sit down?’ Geraldine asked gently.
‘No. You can talk to me here. What do you want?’ he repeated, leaning unsteadily against the wall.
‘It’s about your stepmother.’
‘My stepmother? What’s she done?’
‘I’m afraid she’s dead.’
Eddy’s expression was a combination of surprise and shock which appeared genuine.
‘So the house… and everything…’ he stammered, and paused, taking in what he had just heard. ‘You’re saying she’s dead?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Ian replied.
‘I didn’t know she was – what was wrong with her? What happened?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to sit down?’ Geraldine said gently. ‘This must be a shock.’
Eddy glared at her. ‘No I wouldn’t like to sit down. I’m fine here. And how I feel about the death of my mother is none of your fucking business. She wasn’t my mother, she was my stepmother. You know what? A man’s entitled to his own private thoughts, isn’t he?’ They let him continue with his rambling monologue, his voice rising in frustration. ‘What is this? You think you can police people’s thoughts now? And you think all mothers are so wonderful? If you must know, I did my best to help her after my father died. I did everything she asked me to do, but I never got any thanks for it.’ He scowled and waved his hands in the air while he was speaking, as though to emphasise his points. ‘She was always tightfisted, and she made no effort to be nice to Luciana. My stepmother only knows one person – only knew one person, I should say. So no, you might not like it that I’m not feeling particularly upset right now, but I can tell you, there’s no reason why I should give a damn about her now she’s dead, any more than she gave a damn about me while she was alive.’ His face twisted into a smile. ‘So I’m the heir to my father’s estate now? You can look as disapproving as you like, but you can’t tell me you wouldn’t be pleased if you suddenly came into a load of money. It’s money I’m entitled to, and she kept it from me.’
‘Sit down,’ Ian said quietly, steering Eddy through the door into the living room.
For an instant it looked as though Eddy might be considering squaring up to Ian, but the detective towered over him, waiting until he sat down abruptly, muttering, ‘I want you to leave.’
Geraldine and Ian exchanged a glance.
‘The thing is, your mother didn’t die of natural causes,’ she said softly.
Eddy scowled at her. ‘What difference does it make how she died? She’s dead, isn’t she?’
Geraldine repeated what she had said.
‘What’s your point? You came here to tell me she’s dead, which means her house belongs to me now. And now I want to be left alone. I’ve got a lot to think about.’
‘You’d better come with us,’ Ian said heavily. ‘There are a few questions we need to ask you.’
Eddy’s expression altered. All at once he looked frightened, as he finally grasped the implications of his mother’s death.
‘No! What do you want with me? Just get out and leave me alone.’
‘Come along now,’ Ian said. ‘You’ll only make things more difficult for yourself if you resist.’
‘I told you to bugger off and leave me alone. I’ve not been arrested. You can’t make me go anywhere. Now get lost.’
‘If you had nothing to do with your mother’s death, there’s no reason why you would refuse to help us,’ Geraldine pointed out. ‘Surely you want to help us find out what happened to her?’
‘What did happen to her?’
Geraldine hesitated.
‘She was attacked and killed by a dog,’ Ian replied shortly.
‘A dog? Bloody hell. What sort of a dog?’
‘A dog big enough to kill a grown woman. Do you know anyone who owns a dog like that?’
Eddy looked startled. ‘No. You’ve got my mother confused with someone else. She never even had a dog.’
‘What about you?’
‘What about me? I haven’t got a dog, if that’s what you mean. I never had a dog. My wife isn’t keen on them.’ He paused for a moment, frowning. ‘Aren’t you supposed to do a formal identification? How can you be sure it’s her?’
When Ian explained that his stepmother’s body had been identified through her dental records, Eddy shook his head.
‘You met her, didn’t you?’ he asked Geraldine, turning to her. ‘Why didn’t you recognise her? What’s the deal with her dental records? What’s going on?’
Reminding herself that Eddy had a strong motive to murder his stepmother, Geraldine batted his question away. She couldn’t afford to feel sorry for him at this stage in the investigation. True, he had just lost his stepmother, but it was looking as though he had murdered her himself.
‘Come along,’ Ian said. ‘Let’s go along to the police station.’
‘No way.’
‘We can talk more easily there.’
‘We can talk here,’ Eddy replied doggedly. ‘I’m not going to the police station. You’ll have to arrest me first.’
Without any evidence to suggest he was a suspect, they couldn’t insist on Eddy accompanying them to the police station. Eddy’s face was sweaty and very pale. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and gave a worried smile.
‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘What happened to her?’
Ian answered him with another question. ‘We’d like to know where you were yesterday evening.’
‘What?’ Eddy asked. ‘Why yesterday evening? Is that when it happened?’
‘Your stepmother was attacked by a dog,’ Ian repeated. ‘We need to work out where it happened, and why, and we need your cooperation so we can make sure whoever’s responsible is apprehended.’
‘Yes, you find out what happened,’ Eddy responded, with growing agitation. ‘This is my mother you’re talking about. You’ve come here to tell me she’s been killed and I want to know who did for her!’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ Geraldine said. ‘Now, perhaps you’d like to start cooperating. So, where were you yesterday evening?’
He hesitated. ‘I was here.’
‘Can anyone corroborate that?’ Ian asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Was anyone else here at home with you yesterday evening between around seven and nine?’
‘I was here with my wife all evening, from about half past five. She’d tell you that herself only she’s not here, but she’ll be home in about an hour if you’d like to come back and speak to her.’
Eddy appeared to have sobered up and now seemed to want to be helpful. Geraldine wondered how genuine his alibi was, but in the meantime they couldn’t sit around for an hour waiting for his wife to return. Once they were back in the car, Geraldine traced Luciana’s mobile number and called it but there was no reply so they decided to go straight to Luciana’s place of work. They were keen to speak to her before she saw Eddy.
‘You don’t think he’ll get to her first, do you?’
Ian shook his head. ‘She’s probably not answering her phone because she’s still at work. I can’t see how he could have spoken to her yet, but there’s nothing we can do about it if he has. Find out where she works and we’ll go straight there.’
47
The door closed on the two detectives, and Eddy ran to find his phone. He had to persuade Luciana to agree to tell the police that they had spent the previous evening together. As long as he spoke to her first, he was home and dry. He
didn’t really harbour any serious doubt that she would back him up. She was his wife, after all. But until he had explained the situation to her, he would be on tenterhooks in case the police questioned her before he had a chance to speak to her. He thought quickly. He could call her, but there would be a record of his having done so. With a flash of inspiration he remembered the pay as you go mobile phone Abe had given him.
‘Take this in case we need to make contact. I bought it for cash so there’s no way the police can trace it back to me. Only call me if you have to.’
There had been no need for Eddy to use it, until now.
He ran to the bedroom and rummaged in his underwear drawer, tossing socks and pants on the floor in his desperate hurry to get his hands on the phone. Praying that Luciana would pick up, he dialled the shop. He didn’t call his wife’s mobile in case the police saw that she had received a call from an unknown number immediately after they had spoken to him. To his immense relief, she answered.
‘Luciana, it’s me. Don’t speak, just listen. Make an excuse to leave work early and come straight home. Don’t speak to anyone, and don’t answer your phone to anyone. I’ll explain when you get here.’
‘Eddy, what –’
‘Just do it, will you? Come home now.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes, there’s nothing wrong, but I need to speak to you right now. Come home, please.’
‘Have you been gambling again?’
‘No, no, it’s nothing like that. Listen, the police were here just now.’
‘The police?’
‘Can you stop interrupting me to repeat everything I say! My stepmother’s dead –’
‘Your stepmother? Oh my God, I’m so sorry. What happened? It’s not another –’
‘Never mind all that. The thing is, I think I could be in trouble –’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Eddy, tell me what’s happened.’
‘Come home and I’ll explain. And don’t talk to anyone!’
‘Tell me what’s going on.’
Eddy groaned. This was taking too long. While they were talking, the police could be on their way to speak to his wife.
‘She was murdered,’ he said, his voice rising in panic. ‘Just come home, will you?’
Luciana spoke so softly he could barely hear what she was saying. ‘Did you do it, Eddy?’
‘What?’
‘Your mother, did you –’
‘What? God no! But the police seem to think I did, just because I’ll now inherit the house and everything.’
‘Jesus.’ He heard her gasp and then she asked briskly, ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Don’t speak to the police before I’ve spoken to you.’
‘I won’t.’
He realised if his wife left work early that might also arouse suspicion. In the meantime, they had been talking for so long, it was possible the police were already there. He would have to explain the situation to her right away.
He spoke quickly. ‘Listen, they might be there any minute. It’s probably not a good idea for you to leave early. It might look suspicious.’
‘What do you mean, suspicious?’
‘All you have to do is tell the police that you were with me, at home, yesterday evening. You came straight home from work, I was here, and we were both in all evening. Have you got that?’
‘Yes, but –’
Afraid the police might arrive and see her on the phone, he rang off, cursing her for having kept him talking for so long. He should have told her what had happened and what to say to the police straight away, instead of messing about like that. But when he looked at the phone he saw that they had actually been talking for less than a minute. He turned the phone off and removed the sim card. There was no way the police would be able to discover he had spoken to Luciana after they had called at the house. He found a bottle of beer in the kitchen and went into the living room. The beer wasn’t as cold as he would have liked, but he flung himself down in a chair and gulped it down anyway.
‘Do your worst,’ he muttered. ‘Go on, knock yourselves out. She’s my wife and you can fuck off with your questions and your suspicions of a poor orphan.’
Then he began to laugh because he wasn’t poor. Not any longer. His stepmother had saved him, after all, in spite of herself. He remembered his real mother with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and laughter, recalled holidays on the beach, and her taking care of him when he had been ill, but he could picture her face only as a series of still photographs. After her death, which had been quite sudden, he had been looked after by another woman he hadn’t liked at all. She had been very strict and never laughed. With hindsight he guessed he had resented her for not being his mother. When his father had remarried a year later, he had been young enough to accept his stepmother without too much trouble because he felt she had saved him from the hated nanny. They had got on well enough while he was a child. And now she was dead.
He gazed around his cramped living room, slowly registering that everything in his life was about to change. The carpet in the living room was stained, the curtains threadbare, and the paper was peeling off one wall near the ceiling. He had promised Luciana he would redecorate the room when he had time.
‘You’ve got time to decorate Charlotte’s hall,’ she had pointed out, scowling.
He had no answer to that. His stepmother had been on her own, in a state of shock after his father’s death. He had felt bound to help her.
‘It’s not that I’m putting her first,’ he had tried to explain to his wife.
Now he wouldn’t have to bother with decorating, because they would be moving out. They had a proper house to live in, with a nice garden, and an en suite bathroom, and a kitchen large enough to accommodate a table and chairs, and a separate dining room as well. Or they could sell his parents’ house and buy another one of their own. Life was changing, all right, and everything had turned out for the best in the end, as he had always known it would. He was going to make sure his stepmother had a proper send-off, as long as it didn’t cost too much. That was the least he could do for her. And best of all, he would be able to conceal the extent of his debts from his wife. He knew from his stepmother’s experience that he would have to wait for the lawyers to do their messing around before he could get his hands on the money. In the meantime, he just needed a small win to tide him over until his inheritance came through.
He had known his run of bad luck couldn’t last forever. Emptying his wallet he counted out two five pound notes and nearly ten pounds in change. It wasn’t much. There was only one thing for it. He wouldn’t have raided the holiday money if his stepmother hadn’t croaked, but knowing it was only a temporary measure changed everything. Pocketing the lot, he set off, whistling. To his relief the old man was sitting in his usual seat, eyes closed. Eddy went over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. The old man let out a loud snore but didn’t stir.
‘Hey, wake up!’ Eddy whispered, shaking him vigorously by the shoulder.
The old man’s eyes fluttered open and he glared at Eddy.
‘What’s your problem? Can’t a man get a bit of shut-eye around here?’
‘I need another tip,’ Eddy said, pulling up a chair. ‘And you’re going to give it to me. Come on, mate,’ he went on, in an attempt to cajole his new acquaintance into obliging him. ‘You know the horses. Tell you what,’ he went on when the old man didn’t respond. ‘I’ll put a fiver down for you, how about that? No, a tenner. Just give me the name and I’ll do the rest. It doesn’t have to be the next race. I can wait. Just give me another winner and we both cash in. What do you say?’
The old man stared at him. ‘You’ll put a tenner down for me?’
‘Sure. That’s the least I can do.’
Eddy’s hand shook slightly as he handed over all his money. He watched, mesmerised, as it was counted. The bookie gave him a curious look and asked him to
wait while he made a call. Eddie nodded uneasily and watched as the man picked up a phone. After a brief exchange, the man hung up and nodded at him to indicate his bet would be accepted. Eddy leaned against the wall and waited, telling himself that his troubles were finally over. The old man had already proved his tips were sound and Eddy only needed him to come good one more time.
When the race ended Eddy turned to the old man, barely able to contain his fury. Until that moment it hadn’t seriously occurred to him that he might lose the lot.
‘You told me this was a sure thing!’ he yelled, only vaguely aware of a voice calling to him to ‘keep it down’.
The old man cackled, revealing toothless gums. ‘A sure thing,’ he repeated, nodding his head.
Eddy could have wept. He had thrown nearly three thousand pounds away on a useless tip, and Luciana was bound to notice that the holiday money had gone. Resisting the urge to lash out and wipe the silly grin off the old man’s face, he restrained himself, aware of the bookie’s watchful eyes.
‘You told me Bright Vista would win! You said it was a sure thing.’
‘You can never rely on a horse,’ the old man replied, tapping the side of his nose with one finger.
‘You don’t want to listen to Bob,’ the bookie called out, hearing what Eddy had said. ‘He’s totally lost the plot. Thinks he’s got a crystal ball. I don’t remember him backing many winners.’ He laughed. ‘Isn’t that right, Bob?’
The old man’s smile didn’t waver. ‘I know how to pick a winner,’ he mumbled. ‘Golden Nugget in the next race is going to come in first. I can always tell a winner, every time.’
‘You lost your tenner,’ Eddy snarled.
The old man grinned up at him. ‘Wasn’t mine to lose.’
48
Their route took them into the centre of town where Ian dropped Geraldine off. They had agreed a female detective on her own might invite confidence, and the more low-key the encounter remained, the more likely Luciana was to speak freely. By the time Geraldine walked up the hill and reached the bridal shop where Luciana worked, it was nearly closing time. She went inside and looked around. A skinny girl with highlights in her hair was standing behind a pale pink counter, surrounded by rails of long white dresses. All around her Geraldine saw white and cream lace, organza and tulle, satin shoes, and wreaths of silk flowers. With a faint pang she remembered Celia’s wedding, an extravagant affair where Geraldine had been obliged to wear a frilly dress designed for a much younger woman.
Death Rope Page 19