by Lisa Cutts
She leaned forward, lips slightly apart to take a sip. Harry watched as she closed her eyes and drank the soup. He made no move to back away from her in the cramped confines of the steamy kitchen.
Hazel looked up at him and smiled. ‘You should try some. It’s delicious.’
Throwing the spoon on the table, he bent his face towards Hazel and kissed her on the mouth, hands in her hair and their bodies now touching.
Chapter 69
If the smoke detector in the hallway hadn’t started to sound, Harry would have carried on kissing Hazel until she pulled away from him.
Although they parted lips, they continued to hold on to one another, foreheads touching and both of them giggling.
‘Are we literally smoking hot,’ she said, ‘or is it the lamb?’
‘Little fucker’s burnt to hell now,’ he said, sad to let her go. He wasn’t concerned that the food would go to waste if he held on to her, but he was a little worried that the house would eventually catch fire if he didn’t do something.
He reset the alarm, opened a window, took the lamb from the oven and left it beside the stove. He then picked up her drink and said, ‘I’ll be through to join you in a moment. Follow me.’
It was a room that Hazel hadn’t seen before. As Harry paused to hold the door open, she almost gasped. She didn’t want to make him think she was amazed that he could go to so much effort. Clearly, he had.
The room was well enough lit by four table lamps, plus dimmed wall lights that gave it an atmosphere of relaxation, rather than making the impression he just wanted to get her into a darkened room. The coffee table held a small vase of fresh garden flowers and a bowl of large green olives.
She glanced further into the room and saw that it contained a huge dining table, laid for two at one end. The place settings were on top of a startling white, crisp tablecloth, and she could see from some feet away that the cutlery was gleaming and the crystal glasses were sparkling.
Suddenly, she felt a touch overwrought.
‘Have a seat,’ he said. ‘Help yourself to olives. You told me the other night in the pub that green olives were your favourite. I’ll go and get the dinner sorted.’
Left alone in Harry’s living room, Hazel found herself wondering if she was there for the right reasons. She knew that she wouldn’t get hurt if the relationship didn’t take off or it was short-lived, but she wasn’t so sure about Harry. He seemed to be going into this with an intensity that she wasn’t sure was healthy for either of them.
Most of the furniture seemed to be good quality and little seemed to be spared as far as the television and other electrical items were concerned. It crossed Hazel’s mind that if Harry’s wife and children had left and neither come back nor laid claim to any of it, his ex-wife really didn’t need the money. As much as she didn’t want to get caught up in anyone’s divorce, at least the fallout wasn’t likely to involve Harry losing his home and wanting to move in with her. So she hoped.
That her thoughts had drifted to a time when they were so far down the line, ideas of moving in together more than a fleeting fancy, woke Hazel completely from her reverie.
The door opened as Harry walked in with two bowls of soup on a tray.
‘Are you OK?’ he said. ‘You look a bit stunned, like you’ve only just realized where you are.’ ‘No, I’m fine. I’ve had a lot on this week and I think it’s finally catching up with me. Let me help you with the starters.’
They each sat down at the table with their food, and fell into a comfortable silence.
‘Are you sure I can’t get you a glass of wine or a beer?’ asked Harry, picking up the empty bowls on his way to get their main course ready.
‘No thanks. I’d better not. I’ll check my phone too in case there’s anything new happening.’
On her way to her handbag underneath her jacket hanging on the coat rack, she took a second to be grateful that Harry hadn’t asked her so far about Linda’s murder or how things were progressing. He seemed to have made a conscientious effort to avoid it and the time didn’t feel right to reveal the Bowmans’ secrets.
Checking her phone, she saw that she had a voicemail from about twenty minutes earlier from Doug Philbert. Hazel listened to the message and felt mixed emotions about the fact that at last they were going to be charging someone with Linda’s murder, but sad for Travis that he had been betrayed by someone who was supposed to care for him.
All she had to do now was to tell Harry that as soon as she’d finished eating the delicious meal he was preparing for her, she would have to leave him to it for the night, while she went to see Travis.
Chapter 70
The evening hadn’t gone as smoothly as Hazel would have liked. Harry seemed fine about her leaving without even eating the dessert he had made, though even if she hadn’t had to go and speak to Travis in person, she couldn’t have eaten another thing. Barbara Venice had offered to come with her, but Hazel hadn’t wanted the young man to feel overwhelmed.
With a sense of dread, she turned off the engine, got out of her car and went towards the house.
Before she’d left Harry’s, Hazel had sent Travis a text warning him that she was on her way and had received an OK text in reply. He knew that both Jenny and Aiden were still in custody so her dropping in on him at eleven o’clock at night wouldn’t come as a complete surprise.
John opened the door to her and she couldn’t help but notice that his shirt was buttoned up wrong and his hair was ruffled. She was already feeling surprisingly nervous and now she felt even worse to think that she’d got the entire household out of bed and dressed in a hurry.
With little in the way of greeting, he smiled and showed her to the dining room where Travis and Una sat with a mug of what smelled like cocoa in front of each of them.
‘Can I get you anything?’ said John.
‘No thanks,’ she said, before turning her entire attention to Travis, yet aware that others in the room had lost family members too. ‘Travis,’ she said, ‘Aiden and Jenny are still in custody. Things have moved on a lot today and after discussing the evidence with the Crown Prosecution Service, the decision has been made to bail Aiden and charge Jenny with your mum’s murder.’
No one spoke for some time, although the silence was filled with Una weeping and the noise of Travis’s nails as they ran back and forth over the table.
Eventually he said, ‘What’s happening to Aiden? Did he do it or not?’
‘For now, we don’t have enough to charge him, and I have to tell you that it may never happen. We’re about to bail him though, rather than refuse all charges, so he’ll have to return to the police station at some point. We’re also going to give him bail conditions not to contact you, so if he so much as tries to, let me know straight away.
‘We took both of their DNA samples at the start of the investigation. At some point, they’d both held the weapon used on your mum. It’s not totally clear when, but there was other stuff too.’
Hazel spoke as slowly as she could, realizing they weren’t taking it all in. It would be impossible for anyone to under the circumstances. Training only went so far when it came to imparting news like this. Handling it correctly relied very heavily on the human touch, past experience and reading people’s reactions.
Travis was showing all the signs of being about to be pushed over the edge. There was no possible way Hazel was going to tell him that Aiden’s semen was on his parents’ bedclothes. That was something she would have to explain to him when the time was right, if the time ever would be right. If Aiden was eventually charged with murder, she knew the staining would be spoken about in open court in about six months’ time. Just as the wounds were beginning to heal over, the scab would come off and Travis would be in a tormented state once more, eager to get it over with, but morbidly fascinated and repelled by what he was hearing.
Many times Hazel had sat beside families whose lives had been torn apart by another’s actions. She had supported them, driven the
m around, even broken up fights when they attacked the murderer’s family waiting outside the courtroom.
She knew too well that the whole circus of a trial at court, complete with amateur dramatics by the defence barristers, would crush what little life Travis had left in him. When it did happen, she would do everything she could to help him, and that included picking her moment to tell him about the sexual relationship between his dead mother and his nineteen-year-old best friend.
‘Travis,’ Hazel said after several minutes had gone by. ‘I think I should leave you with your aunt and uncle now. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.’
‘Fuck off and leave me alone,’ Travis spat at her, fists clenching.
‘Don’t speak to her like that,’ said John. ‘I know you’re upset—’
‘No, no,’ said Hazel, ‘he’s every right to be angry. I’ll see myself out, as long as you’re all right?’
She aimed the question at John more than the others: Una was far too upset to take anything else in and Hazel’s concern stemmed from the possibility of the huge hulk of Travis losing control completely and going on the rampage.
In spite of the reassuring nod from John, after Hazel had left the house she sat outside in her unmarked car for over twenty minutes watching the three of them through the window.
The only picture they gave her was of three heartbroken members of a devastated family hugging each other and crying inconsolably.
Chapter 71
When Hazel did at last drive off, she was unsure where to go. She knew if she went home, she wouldn’t sleep but didn’t fancy the idea of returning to Harry’s at such a late hour. The best use of her time seemed to be to go into work. Technically, she was back on duty now anyway, so she decided to head into the incident room and get her notes up to date.
The waft of Indian takeaway greeted her as she walked along the corridor towards the bank of desks and computers. Six officers sat around talking and eating a late meal, and all six said hello to her, most of them holding out containers of curry, rice and bhajis towards her.
‘No thanks,’ she said, ‘I’ve eaten. I can’t fail to notice that not one of you is eating at your own desk.’
‘That’s right,’ said Pete, halfway through a bite of naan bread. ‘Don’t want my own work station stained yellow.’
‘How was Travis when you told him?’ said Barbara Venice.
‘He was upset, ma’am,’ said Hazel, taking a seat. ‘That’s natural. I’ll go back and see him tomorrow, or at least call him. How did they react when they were given their news?’
‘I bailed Aiden,’ said Sophia, picking at a piece of chicken tikka and not entirely appearing to enjoy her dining experience. ‘He shook the whole time I was explaining everything to him, but didn’t say a word. The relief was written all over his face.’
‘You sound as though you’re almost pleased he was bailed,’ said Hazel.
Sophia nodded, put the chicken down and pointed over at Doug Philbert.
‘I was saying to Mr Philbert and Mrs Venice before you came in, Haze, that I’m not convinced he had anything to do with the murder. I’m glad that CPS’s decision was to bail him. We still don’t actually know that he was there at the time. His DNA on the hammer can be explained and he said that the sperm on the bed was from some time before the murder. Why Linda didn’t change the sheets is another matter. We’ve got nothing other than him telling a few lies about going to the house and his sexual relationship with Linda.’
Chewing furiously so that he could join in the conversation, Doug wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and said, ‘The point is though, that he did lie. We’re not judge, jury and executioner. We find the evidence, CPS review it and it goes to court. It’s the jury’s job to find him guilty or not. It’s not ours.’
‘Mind you,’ said Tom, putting his knife and fork down, ‘if Jenny’s reaction when she was charged is anything to go by, I’m not convinced anyone would find her son guilty anyway.’ He leafed through his notebook for a copy of the charge sheet and read out her reply after charge. ‘‘‘I did it. It was me by myself. Aiden was asleep in bed when I left the house that morning.’’’
Pierre added, ‘She hasn’t helped him much there though, has she? Aiden told us that he went to see Linda early in the morning. He was either with his mum and they both murdered her, or Aiden’s telling the truth and he was there in the kitchen when Jenny rang the doorbell. If that last part is correct, she’s still a liar. She must have known her own son was in the house.’
‘You OK, Hazel?’ said the DI.
‘I’m OK, sir,’ she said. ‘Travis has taken this hard and I’ve got to be honest, I know it’s the least of his worries, but when this goes to trial, it’ll come out about his mum’s encounter with Aiden. He’s probably going to hear that his best friend’s semen was on his parents’ bed.’
Pete was loading up his plate for a second helping of takeaway.
‘Cheers, Haze,’ he said. ‘You’ve just put me right off the mint yoghurt. Can’t say I really fancy the mango relish much now either.’
‘Do you think that we’ll ever have enough to charge Aiden? If we don’t have anything else now, are we ever likely to?’ Hazel asked.
Doug rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger while he considered the question. ‘There’s always the possibility that something’ll turn up. If Jenny pleads guilty at the first hearing, takes sole responsibility and we get nothing further, Aiden may well be off the hook.’
Looking across in turn at the DCI and the DI, Hazel said, ‘I was thinking of putting in for a few days off, if that’s all right? Would it be OK if I took some leave at the end of next week?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ said Barbara, glancing at Doug.
‘That shouldn’t be a problem,’ confirmed Doug. ‘Are you thinking of going away anywhere or just in need of a break?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Hazel, who had no intention of telling anyone before Harry himself that she had planned to make their day trip into something a little more serious.
Chapter 72
No sooner had Aiden been released from police custody than he started to worry about his father’s reaction to what had gone on in his absence. He had only been out of the country for six days on a business trip to Dubai and now both Travis’s parents were dead, his wife had been charged with murder, and his only son was on bail for the same murder.
Aiden stood outside the police station, shivering in the coolness of the night, waiting for his father’s Jaguar to turn the corner from Lower Stone Street and pull up in front of the building.
The car slowed to a stop under the street lamp. He couldn’t see inside but he knew that his father would be in the driver’s seat, face set in stone. Whatever the occasion, Ron Bloomfield rarely pulled a facial expression. So often over the years, Aiden had heard Milton shout at Travis, tell him off for something trivial or praise him when he had done something good. He longed to invoke the same reactions from his own dad.
The thought that neither Travis’s mum nor his dad would ever tell him off or congratulate him again brought tears to his eyes once more.
He heard the sound of the car window lowering and glimpsed his father’s deadpan expression.
With a sense of dread, he walked towards the car, all the while picturing a scenario where his dad threw open the car door and ran to him, asking him what had happened and was he all right. Telling him over and over again that it must all be a terrible mistake – the police had no idea what they were doing and of course he was innocent. Not to worry, his mum would also be home soon. She couldn’t possibly have murdered someone, least of all Linda Bowman.
The saddest thing of all was not that there was no chance whatsoever of Ron Bloomfield saying any of that, but that not all of it would have been true.
His mother was going to prison for killing Linda and all because of him.
His father always knew the truth and he would see through his son within minutes.
Aide
n opened the passenger door and got in, the scent of his father’s aftershave hitting him. A pleasant smell after so long in a stale custody area with only his own body odour to distract him.
‘Hello,’ said his dad.
‘Dad, I—’ he said but was unsure how to continue.
In a rare act of compassion, his father placed his hand on his son’s arm.
The shock of the touch caused the start of tears, but he couldn’t cry in front of his dad. The last few days had been bad enough without breaking down in front of the one person whose approval really mattered. Self-pity could wait.
He had much more important things to do once he got home.
Chapter 73
Saturday 10 June
Within seconds of waking, Hazel made up her mind that she needed to speak to Harry as soon as she could get hold of him.
The last few days had taken it out of her, so she could only imagine how Travis was coping. Pushing all thoughts of work to the back of her mind, she brushed her teeth and tried to picture where she and Harry might go for a few days. He’d seemed keen to get away by himself so she hoped she wasn’t jumping the gun by crashing on his trip. She mulled over whether they should head in the direction of Dorset so that, after a night or two with her, he could go and visit his children or whether they should keep the two matters firmly apart.
Having spent much longer on her oral hygiene than the recommended minimum of two minutes, she smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror, glad she’d managed to keep her mind distracted for at least a little while.
She went downstairs to put on the kettle and make a phone call.
From the background noise and acoustics when Harry answered, she could tell he was in a car and she was on speakerphone.
‘Morning,’ he said. ‘How are you? Oh you fucking moron. Not you, Haze, the half-wit that’s just pulled out on me. There are some twats on the road.’
‘I’m good, thanks, Harry. Listen, is there anyone else in the car with you?’