by Trevor Negus
He smirked slyly and continued. ‘So, it’s a bloody good job the brat’s gone missing, then, isn’t it?’
‘That’s a horrible thing to say, Freddie! God knows where that poor girl is. Rebecca must be going out of her mind with worry.’
Freddie fixed the young secretary with a wild-eyed, alcohol-induced stare and whispered, ‘Oh, I don’t think God has the first clue where that girl is now.’
A frown came over the young secretary’s face, and she said seriously, ‘What do you mean?’
Just then the waiter arrived carrying a bucket full of ice, with a bottle of Bollinger sitting in it, and two lead-crystal champagne flutes. He placed the ice bucket and flutes on the table, took the bottle from the bucket and, with a theatrical flourish, loudly popped the cork.
Ignoring the question asked by Felicity, Freddie roared his approval and said loudly, ‘Wonderful! Do the honours, my man.’
The waiter carefully poured the effervescent drink into the flutes.
As she watched her glass fill, Felicity wondered what Freddie had meant by his remark. As soon as the waiter had filled both glasses and left them alone, she leaned in close and whispered, ‘Freddie, what did you mean?’
Brushing off her concern, he replied, ‘Oh, I didn’t mean anything, you silly thing. I’m just glad that, for the time being, the bitch’s daughter is nowhere to be found. Personally, I hope she fucking well stays missing if it means more nights like this. Every cloud and all that.’
He raised his glass high in the air and said, ‘I propose a toast!’
Felicity raised her glass and clinked her crystal flute alongside Freddie’s.
In a booming voice, he said, ‘Here’s to the wonderful, absent Emily!’ Then in a much quieter voice, he added seriously, ‘May she stay hidden in the shadows forever.’
The smile vanished from Felicity’s face, and she pulled her glass away.
She pouted and said, ‘I can’t drink to that. That’s a horrible thing to say.’
‘Oh, come on, Fliss, I’m just teasing.’
He could feel her mood change; she wasn’t impressed. So he said quickly, ‘Don’t take me seriously. I’m just having a bit of fun. Look, I know I can be a twat at times, but I’m only joking with you. You should see your pouty, little face. It’s really quite endearing.’
‘Fuck off, Freddie! You’re not funny, and if you don’t change the subject in the next thirty seconds, I’m going home.’
Freddie swept his blonde hair back with his fingers, fluttered his eyelashes and beamed his most charming smile at her. ‘Felicity, darling, I hear that the weather forecast is predicting even heavier rain all day tomorrow.’
She tried hard not to, but in the end, she laughed at his little joke and the pathetic, hangdog expression he had put on his face.
As she laughed, she said, ‘Bloody hell, Freddie, you can be such an idiot.’
He grinned and topped up his own glass. ‘Come on, Fliss. You’re starting to lag behind.’
She picked up her crystal flute and took two gulps of the Bollinger. Immediately, she felt the alcohol rush as the bubbles exploded in her throat. Felicity knew she would be suffering in the morning, but right now, she didn’t care. She was having a good night; Freddie was very generous and great fun to be with.
She smiled at Freddie and raised her glass.
Behind her smile, and even though she was feeling the effects of the alcohol, there was something troubling her.
When he had proposed his drunken toast to Emily Whitchurch, why had Freddie used the word hidden instead of missing?
27
7.30am, 7 October 1986
Richmond Drive, Mapperley Park, Nottingham
Sam Jamieson was coming towards the end of his morning run. He loved the challenge that Mapperley Park offered. The steep hills and long gradients were just what he needed to start his day. He tried to make time to run every morning. He had discovered that after being locked up in a small cell for years, just the feeling of being able to move freely around the streets was very therapeutic.
His circuit around the Mapperley Park area always included a couple of passes along Richmond Drive. That way, he could jog slowly by the house owned by Dominic and Rebecca Whitchurch.
Soon after moving to the Forest Fields area of the city, he had followed the barrister from Mulberry Chambers on the Ropewalk to her home address.
Over the last few days, he’d noticed that her car hadn’t moved on the driveway. On a couple of occasions, he’d seen police officers at the house. He had planned on leaving the letter at the house two mornings ago, just to get her thinking. The police car parked outside the house had thwarted him from dropping the letter through the letterbox on that occasion.
It wasn’t a threatening letter, as such. He just wanted her to know that somebody wasn’t happy with her, and that they were watching her every move. He knew it would unnerve her, maybe even frighten her. That was all he wanted to achieve at the moment.
Simple revenge wasn’t going to be enough for Sam Jamieson.
He needed Rebecca Whitchurch to suffer an excruciating, drawn-out agony over a long period of time. Only then would his need for payback be sated.
He slowed down as he jogged past the house, peering through the wrought-iron gates and up the driveway. Her car was still in the same place. It hadn’t moved since yesterday.
He quickened his pace.
Soon the bitch would know what real loss, real fear, real helplessness felt like. For now, he was happy to let her fret at home, wondering what was going to happen next.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and began the final part of the morning run. He always gradually increased his pace on the way back to Forest Fields. It would only take him ten minutes from here to reach his small flat. He needed to have a hot shower and eat breakfast, ready for another day of lectures at university.
He felt a little frustrated about the letter. One thing prison had taught him, though, was that patience was a virtue. He’d waited years to even the score. A few more days, weeks or months wouldn’t hurt him. He knew he was already well on the way to achieving the ultimate revenge.
He could afford to be patient, for as long as it took. He had the upper hand. Rebecca Whitchurch wasn’t going anywhere.
28
7.30pm, 8 October 1986
The Belmont Hotel, Winterburn Street, Leicester
Angela Temple finished drying her hair and slipped into the soft towelling robe that bore the logo of the Belmont Hotel. She felt relaxed and was looking forward to spending the entire week with her lover.
Dominic Whitchurch was in the bedroom. He was studying all the police statements for the rape charge they would be defending at Leicester Crown Court in the morning.
Angela knew she would be able to distract him from his work any time she felt like it. Allowing her robe to open, exposing her naked, tanned body, she smiled at her reflection in the steamy mirror. She was confident that as soon as he saw her naked, Dominic would be unable to resist.
From the moment she had started work at Mulberry Chambers, there had been a chemistry between the two of them. It had taken just over three months for that subtle chemistry to turn into a full-blown affair.
Until this week, intimate moments had to be snatched when their respective workloads allowed. Making love with Dominic in the back of his Range Rover was not ideal. It was better, however, than nothing. This was the first time they had been away together, and Angela could feel butterflies fluttering low down in her stomach.
Dominic was completely different to her husband; he always took the time to ensure she was pleasured. Unlike her husband, he was a very gentle and considerate lover.
Angela had waited for an opportunity like this for a long time. She was determined to make Dominic realise what he could have all the time if he would only see sense and leave his domineering wife, Rebecca.
She brushed her long, silky hair and applied bright red lipstick to her full lips. The vivid red contrasted with
her jet-black hair and dark brown eyes perfectly.
With the bathrobe hanging loosely from her shoulders, she walked into the bedroom. Dominic was sitting on the bed with papers strewn all around him. Without looking up, he said, ‘I’ll only be a few more minutes, sweetheart.’
Angela said nothing.
She knelt on the bed in front of him and allowed the robe to slip from her shoulders, totally exposing her slender body.
Finally, Dominic looked up from the paperwork and saw her kneeling naked before him. Very slowly, he removed his glasses and said, ‘You look absolutely stunning.’
She moved closer, put her arms around his neck and drew him in close. She whispered seductively, ‘That’s enough work for tonight.’
They kissed passionately, and Angela could feel the fire rising in her stomach.
Suddenly, Dominic broke away from the smouldering, sexy embrace and said, ‘Bloody hell! Room service is going to be here any minute!’
Angela laughed, pushed him backwards onto the bed, straddled him and said, ‘You must have ordered something wonderful if it’s better than this, darling?’
She laughed again, climbed off him and continued, ‘It’s a bloody good job we’ve got all night, Dom.’
Right on cue, there was a loud knock on the door. A voice shouted, ‘Room service!’
Angela quickly slipped the towelling robe back on and walked to the door. Dominic quickly cleared the crumpled paperwork from the top of the bed. He desperately tried to smooth the sheets of paper before putting them back inside the folder.
Angela opened the door, and the room service waiter walked in. He placed the large tray onto the table and removed the metal tureens covering the hot food. He left the room, returning immediately with an ice bucket containing a bottle of Moet champagne.
Dominic followed the waiter to the door, handed him a ten-pound note and said, ‘Thanks.’
The grateful waiter replied, ‘That’s very generous of you, sir. If there’s anything else you need, just call down, and I’ll bring it straight up.’
‘There won’t be anything else, but thank you.’
Angela looked at the two plates of creamy carbonara linguini and said, ‘Mmm, pasta and ice-cold champagne. Two of my favourites.’
She picked up a fork and began eating while Dominic popped the cork and poured two glasses of champagne.
Passing her a glass of chilled champagne, he said, ‘I know my timing sucks, but I was starving.’
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. Just make sure you leave room for your dessert.’
She winked at him and raised her champagne glass. He clinked her glass with his own and said, ‘Don’t you worry about that. Dessert is always my favourite course.’
Staring at each other as they ate the pasta, their sense of anticipation was growing.
Having finished the food, they got undressed in a hurry and fell onto the bed.
Their lovemaking was as slow and sensual as they could make it. They had both wanted this first time together in a warm, comfortable bed to be special.
Two hours later, feeling spent, they sat up in bed, cuddling each other in a way that had previously been denied to them. Both were relishing that wonderful feeling of quiet intimacy enjoyed by lovers.
It was Dominic who finally broke the silence. ‘More champagne?’
‘Mmm, yes, please, darling. That would be lovely.’
He walked over to the table and refilled the glasses. He handed one to Angela and got back into bed. Feeling the warmth from each other’s bodies as they sipped the ice-cold champagne felt delicious.
After a few minutes, Angela whispered, ‘Don’t you want this all the time, Dom?’
‘You know I do, sweetheart.’
She put her glass down on the bedside table, looked into his eyes and said firmly, ‘When?’
He placed his glass down as well. ‘Very soon. It’s just so bloody difficult right now.’
‘It’s always going to be difficult. I’m so ready to leave; every day at home feels like a nightmare. We barely speak anymore. I thought you were ready to leave, as well.’
‘I am, sweetheart, but you know what’s going on at home. There’s no way I could walk out now.’
With just a hint of annoyance in her voice, Angela said, ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
Staring into her brown eyes, he replied firmly, ‘How can I leave Rebecca now? In case it had slipped your mind, my fourteen-year-old daughter’s missing, for Christ’s sake!’
She sat back, leaning against the quilted headboard. After a minute, she let out a long sigh and said softly, ‘I’m sorry, Dom. I shouldn’t have said that. It was selfish and crass. I’m so sorry. It’s just that I want to be with you so badly. Every day we’re apart hurts like crazy. I feel like I’m just treading water at home. I don’t love my husband. I’m in love with you.’
He also leaned back against the headboard. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her in close, and said, ‘Trust me, sweetheart, it’s what I want too. I promise you, just as soon as Emily’s found, I’ll make the break. Things haven’t been good between me and Rebecca for years. It took meeting you to make me realise what I was missing in my life. I just hope you’re ready for the massive shitstorm that’s going to follow our actions?’
‘I’m more than ready. It’s what I wish for every day. I really hope Emily’s found sooner rather than later.’
‘I’ve already asked Richard Conway to write a strongly worded letter to the new chief constable to gee his men up. I’m sure she’ll be found soon, sweetheart.’
‘Do you really think a letter from the head of chambers will have any impact on the police, darling?’
As he reached over for his glass of champagne, he said, ‘It can’t hurt, can it? The cops need rousting every now and then.’
He raised the champagne flute and said, ‘Now, why don’t we drink some more of this champagne and get comfortable again? Let’s try to forget about what’s happening back in Nottingham, and make the most of this week, shall we?’
After drinking more champagne, they snuggled down under the duvet again. Angela whispered seductively, ‘Oh, I intend to make the most of you, darling. Come here.’
As they kissed and caressed, Dominic’s mind was in turmoil. He loved being with Angela, but there was no way he was ready to leave his wife and daughter for her. Leaving his wife would almost certainly be the end of his career at Mulberry Chambers. It would definitely scupper any chances he would have of making silk. That was something he couldn’t let happen.
For now, he would continue to enjoy the weeks and months ahead with Angela. There really was no need to rush anything. He would end it with her when it suited him and not before. It wasn’t time yet; he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
While ever his daughter remained missing, there was no pressure on him to leave his wife. Angela would have to understand that there was no way he could leave while that was still the situation.
As Angela’s head disappeared beneath the duvet and she began kissing his stomach, his mind was suddenly yanked away from thoughts about his dysfunctional marriage and his missing daughter.
The only thought going through his mind at that moment was that the beautiful, sexy woman in bed with him was insatiable.
29
9.00pm, 8 October 1986
Mansfield, Nottinghamshire
Danny Flint was sitting on the sofa, quietly reading the newspaper, when Sue came into the living room. She looked at her husband and said, ‘You’re very quiet tonight. Is there anything on the television worth watching?’
Danny put the paper down, looked at Sue and said, ‘I haven’t looked, to be honest; I was just relaxing.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
Danny patted the cushion on the settee next to him. ‘Don’t be daft. Come here.’
Sue sat down beside him on the comfortable sofa and cuddled in.
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br /> She said quietly, ‘How did your meeting with the new chief go?’
‘It was fine. What I’d expected, to be honest. No promotion to superintendent, but he wants me to continue running the MCIU.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m a little disappointed about missing out on the promotion. That’s the bad news, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m just happy he sounded so positive about the MCIU. That’s eased a lot of the worries I’ve been feeling lately.’
‘If you ask me, it’s all good news. I think working at headquarters every day would have slowly driven you mad. You’re a detective; that’s what you do best.’
Danny said nothing and just squeezed her gently.
They sat quietly, just enjoying the feeling of closeness.
After a few minutes, Danny broke the silence. ‘The chief also confirmed to me that Bill Wainwright’s retiring, effective immediately. He’s owed that much annual leave and time off; he’s got no notice to work.’
‘Oh. That was all very quick. Any idea who’ll be taking his place?’
‘Yes. Jack Renshaw has promoted a superintendent from his old force into the job.’
Sue laughed. ‘Another Cornishman? You’ll need to take a Cornish pasty every time you go to headquarters soon.’
Danny laughed and said, ‘Very funny, but I don’t think so. Apparently, the new guy’s originally from West Yorkshire. As soon as I found out who was being appointed, I asked Rob to check him out. It would appear that Detective Chief Superintendent Adrian Potter is a bit of a butterfly.’
‘A butterfly?’
‘Yeah, it’s what we call someone who flits from one force to the next in order to climb the promotion ladder. This will be the third time he’s moved forces, all on promotion.’
‘I see. So, what else did your spy tell you about Adrian Potter?’
‘Rob’s not my spy. It’s just sometimes forewarned is forearmed, that’s all. Potter was the superintendent in charge of the Administration and Finance Department in Devon and Cornwall. He was responsible for overseeing all the drastic budget cuts and changes within that force. Rob called a few people he knows from that force. Adrian Potter was far from being a popular figure. Seems like Devon and Cornwall are glad to see the back of him.’