‘They train you well on that Crime Beaters show. What was it? The DNA evidence, the forensics investigation?’
‘I’m not your mum, Pete, but after what happened with Ellie, maybe you ought to be a bit more careful? Perhaps get to know these women better. You don’t even know her surname, do you?’
There was a bit of tension in the air, only for a moment. I wasn’t used to being told what I should and should not be doing. But I needed the casual flings, I’d have gone mad without them. They blocked the memories of what had happened in the house and at the cathedral. I’d stop them later, when I had things under control.
‘I know, you’re right. I will, honestly.’
It was a flimsy promise, but I didn’t want to fall out with Alex. We’d made our way past the buckets, spades and inflatables and had got to the newspaper stand in the site shop. It was still early, and a Sunday morning too, but the papers had been virtually wiped out already.
‘And they say nobody buys newspapers anymore,’ I said. ‘These holiday-makers have cleared the shelves. Can you find a local paper in there, Alex?’
We sifted through the carnage of discarded advertising inserts and forgotten TV magazines. Assembling a Sunday newspaper is like doing a 5000-piece puzzle. Eventually, Alex found one. She read the headline and I could sense immediately that she was hesitant to share it.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Go on, you can tell me. Although I might shit myself, so be warned.’
She looked at the headline again, then looked back at me. She turned the paper around so that I could see the front page. There it was, a picture of my house taken from the road, with the three For Sale boards artfully placed for dramatic effect. But it was the headline that told the real story: Bloody Horror at Murder House – Estate Agent Throat Slashed.
It took another cup of tea back at the caravan before I was ready to talk about the news story. I needed some processing time. Alex sensed that I wouldn’t want to be subjected to an inquisition about it straight away.
‘What is going on, Alex? First this JD guy, then Glenn Elliot being killed at the house. And Becky too. It feels like it’s all happening again.’
Alex moved closer to me and took my hand.
‘I’m sure it’ll be weirdos, Pete. A house like yours attracts nutters all the time. They become shrines if you’re not careful, it’s all the TV coverage. It seems to excite them. Glenn Elliot probably walked in on somebody. It might have been a break-in gone sour. And as for JD, we should pop into the police station this morning before we do anything else. I’ll give them a description. The sooner he’s out of the picture, the better. I’m sure this isn’t about you, Pete. Try not to get too jittery, we’ll sort it.’
She was right. It helped to have Alex there, calming the more extreme thoughts that were shooting through my mind. How was I ever going to sell the house? I felt angry with Meg, disappearing like that and leaving me in limbo. I resolved to give Martin Travis a piece of my mind. I had to get a message to Meg, we needed to sort things out, and he was my one link to her.
‘Do you mind if we go to the cop shop straight away?’ I asked. ‘I know it’s not quite the leisure activity you expected, but if I know that the local police are keeping an eye out for this JD fella, then at least I’ll feel a bit safer.’
‘Of course, Pete. I’d want to do the same. Did you get Becky’s number? Can you call her? That would help put your mind at ease too. Be discreet, she might have some tough guy as a husband.’
Alex could read my mind. She’d said the same as Steven Terry. I needed to make better choices about the women in my life, and the lies had to stop. I’d stop lying to Alex, she wouldn’t judge me. It would feel good to stop covering up. But could I tell her everything? Even what Meg had said to me before she left? Yes, I would. Not all at once. I’d let it drip out over the weekend. I needed to tell someone this stuff. I’d try to be honest.
As it turned out, we didn’t have to go to the police station. They came to us. There was a knock at the door and I assumed it was Len. It was two police officers, one I recognised from the day before, the other was new.
Len turned up five minutes later, as I was handing out the brews to the officers.
‘Can you come back a bit later, Len? I’m sorry, this is a bit sensitive. And please tell Vicky there’s nothing to worry about, everything is fine here.’
Len went on his way. I was annoyed about the timing, I wanted that door looked at as soon as possible. I also wanted the cops to get a description of JD, and the sooner they were all out there looking for him, the better.
I don’t do this often, but very occasionally I use my position at the radio station to lean on people. Not in a heavy-handed way, but when you’re in the public eye, when you have such a big stage to shout from, it can help to get the outcome you want.
I dropped Diane’s name into the conversation, and also let the bobbies know that I was on first-name terms with their boss the chief constable. I wanted this issue to go straight back to the station, not sit on someone’s desk until they felt like doing something with it.
It helped to have Alex there too. They recognised her immediately and were starstruck straight away. She did a good number on them, as she had with Vicky earlier on. I knew that Vicky would be getting jittery about the police calls to my static caravan. I resolved to buy her a gift to try to smooth things over.
The cops had come to inform me about what had gone on at the house. It was crawling with police once again. The press were camped outside on the street, and they’d need me to head over there as soon as possible to talk to the investigating officer and make sure that the property was left secure.
We explained what had happened with JD. We had to go through the tortuous process of one of the officers typing, letter by letter, Alex’s physical description of the man that she’d met in the nightclub. I’d forgotten what a lovely voice Alex had, although everybody I work with has a lovely voice, they wouldn’t get far without one in my industry. But the second bobby looked as if he was ready to bang one out there and then as she slowly and clearly gave information about the man that she’d seen.
Eventually, we were done. The cops assured us that the description would be circulated at the station and the chief constable informed of their progress. It would be a good chance for them to earn some brownie points with the high-ups, so I didn’t feel so bad about abusing my position and leaning on them a bit. I promised to make it over to the house that day, but I’d get in contact with the estate agents, they were dealing with property issues for me. I had no intention of chasing around after a locksmith or whoever it was I needed to make the house secure.
It felt as if we’d made some progress at last. I’d be much happier when JD had been warned off. Maybe he’d killed Glenn Elliot, that would get everything sewn up quickly.
One thing was for certain. After the visit from the police and the news about this latest killing, I was putting in an application for that job Ellie had mentioned to me. I was fed up of this way of living and tired of all the terrible things that had happened. It was time for a change. I’d get rid of the house, at any price, and move down to London. It was time to put it all behind me and make a fresh start.
I didn’t know it then, but it wouldn’t be quite so simple. More people would have to die before I could leave that place. There was still worse to come.
Chapter Nine
As Alex and I drove out of the campsite, I was annoyed about having had to chase off Len. I wanted that lock fixed. I didn’t want to be delayed by another chat with Vicky, and she wasn’t sitting at the window to wave to as we passed by. I’d pop in on the way back and make sure she’d remembered to get my door checked.
I’d got Alex to witness that both doors were locked from the outside. We’d left via the rear door, it felt safer that way, then we’d both tried the two doors. They were locked, there was no doubt about it this time.
I’d been looking at the faces of the women we passed a
s we drove through the site, but there was no sign of Becky. I’d texted her before we left, but so far, no reply. If she was hitched with a hubby and kids, she’d need to be discreet. I didn’t want to land her in any trouble if she’d cheated on her bloke, and I certainly didn’t want some hairy guy chasing me through the campsite if I’d slept with his wife. Alex and Steven were right. I needed to take more care over the women I let into my life. But it’s hard to stop. When I thought back to my night with Ellie and the night I’d had with Becky, the sex was addictive. It was the consequences of my actions that I wasn’t so keen on.
I was nervous. We were going back to the house. I’d called the estate agent to speak to Glenn’s number two, Melissa Drake, and she seemed particularly keen to meet me there, at the property itself. She’d known about it overnight; the police had rung the office for Glenn’s contact details, so she’d had some time to adjust to the shocking news. Turning up at the place where her boss had been murdered still showed a high degree of professionalism. She’d be earning her 1.75 percent commission, that was for sure. Not forgetting the VAT.
‘It’s ages since I’ve been here,’ I said to Alex, as we entered the outskirts of the city and drew near to the area where Meg and I had once lived.
‘I can’t blame you. I know this is horrible for you, Pete, but I really want to see it. I was stuck on your laptop talking over Skype for much of that night, it’ll be good for me to see where it all happened. I still feel guilty about sending Jason over to the house. It’ll help to fix things in my head.’
‘We can go to see Jason’s grave later, if you want. Jem and Sally are there too, there’s only one cemetery used in the city nowadays. We can avoid their graves, if you prefer. Jason was cremated, he’s in a different area.’
‘You sure know how to show a girl a good time!’
Alex was attempting to lift the mood. She could see that I was grinding everything that had happened over and over in my mind. I decided to lighten up, I needed to have a bit of fun. We’d do the crappy things that we had to, then have some Sunday lunch and try to enjoy the rest of the day.
We drove into a media storm. There were cars packing the drive and vehicles parked all along the roadside. The guys from the radio station were there in the satellite van, as were various teams from TV. At least work hadn’t phoned me for a comment. Diane must have leant on the weekend team to prevent them from calling me. They’d have been itching for some inside information.
‘I’m going to park up the road and walk down,’ I said. ‘Let’s see if we can get to the police tape without being spotted.’
‘Some chance!’ Alex replied. ‘If they don’t spot you, they’re certainly going to recognise me. They’ll think I’m here for Crime Beaters. Maybe I should hang back in the car?’
‘No, screw them, Alex. I’d like you there. With me. If you’re alright with it, I’d like you to come with me. It’ll be good for you to see the house too. You were involved in the murders as well, it’ll be the last chance you get to see where it all happened. We’ll do the “no comment” thing. People have done it to me hundreds of times, it’ll be good to turn the tables for once. Besides, I know most of these media guys. It’s a murder investigation now, they’ll know there’s only so much that we can say.’
We parked quite a distance from the house. I checked the drawer in the car. I had two pairs of sunglasses in there. One of them had been Meg’s. I really needed to clear out all that junk.
‘Let’s use these, they should get us to the front of the crowd without being spotted.’
It wasn’t raining for once, so we wouldn’t look too crazy if we turned up wearing sunglasses. It worked too. We sauntered right past my colleagues from the radio station. I kept my head down, and we made it as far as the police tape before I lifted my glasses. The officer who was guarding the entrance to the drive was well briefed. He let me in and didn’t challenge Alex’s presence, as she was clearly with me. We looked like The Blues Brothers with our shades on. Alex remained anonymous until we got to the front of the house and then there was a ripple of excitement from the people working inside. Melissa had already arrived. I’d spoken to her several times on the phone and we’d met once or twice before.
‘I guess this means that offer is off the table?’ I smiled, then thought better of it. She’d lost her boss. She looked okay, although a bit rattled, mostly distracted by the police activity. We couldn’t go into the house; they hadn’t finished the thorough sweep that would need to be completed before they were entirely happy that every scrap of evidence had been collected.
‘It’s going to be a devil of a job to get anything useful in there,’ said a capable-looking woman as she walked out of the front entrance to meet us.
‘DCI Kate Summers,’ she said, extending her hand to me.
‘It must be serious if you’re here,’ she smiled at Alex. ‘What next, Kate Adie?’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Alex replied, the sunglasses now off. She’d worked with enough police officers to know that there would be excitement but no nonsense around her presence there. And some ogling from the guys, and the occasional female too.
The DCI shook Melissa’s hand. She seemed completely no nonsense. As we spoke, we’d occasionally be interrupted, and it was immediately obvious that she had the respect and obedience of her team.
‘Normally we’d assign a constable to go through the basics with you, but I want to ask you myself as I’m on site. This is interesting, we think Mr Elliot must have disturbed someone here.’
‘Was it a break-in, or did they have access already?’
‘There are no signs of a break-in. Glenn Elliot had opened the door. We understand from Ms Drake that Mr Elliot had an appointment here, and for some reason he stayed back for a short time after that initial meeting. It looks like he was making some phone calls or filling in some paperwork.’
Melissa began to cry. Kate Summers looked at her disapprovingly, as if she’d let her gender down.
‘I can’t believe that Glenn is dead,’ Melissa sobbed. ‘I only saw him yesterday, I was at the house myself earlier in the week. It’s unbelievable ...’
‘You’ve heard that I have a stalker I take it, DCI Summers?’ I interjected. I’ve always been fortunate not to have female figures in my day-to-day life who are prone to tears. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Melissa.
‘Yes, I’ve received that update, it was called through to me about half an hour ago. We’re taking this very seriously, Mr Bailey. I’m aware of the unhealthy attention that your property has been attracting since the murders that took place here.’
Alex had worked her magic calming Melissa down. I surveyed the officers who were doing a painstaking search of the overgrown grass in the garden at the front of the house.
‘Any idea what went on?’ I asked, fully understanding that DCI Summers would not share anything too important with me. I knew the score, I had a key to this place, they’d at least need to consider me as a potential suspect. The cops had seen it all, and even as a journalist I’d seen most of it. It wasn’t out of the question for Glenn Elliot and me to have been having a gay liaison at the house, but in a lover’s tiff gone bad, I slit his throat, mimicking the events that had taken place in the house six months beforehand. Ludicrous, I knew, but I’d put money on the chance of that crossing somebody’s mind. They had to exhaust all possibilities, and that was fair enough.
‘Nothing yet,’ DCI Summers replied. She had long hair tied back tightly in a ponytail, making her look severe. That’s probably how she preferred it. As a woman, she’d have to make sure she didn’t give an inch to the guys working for her or they’d see it as a weakness. I’d not encountered her before in my work as a journalist. I liked her, even though she wasn’t what you’d call friendly.
‘Do any of you have any keys missing? Are you aware of anybody else having access to the house?’
Melissa and I shook our heads.
‘Did you recover Glenn’s set of
keys?’ Melissa asked, wiping her eyes with a tissue, conscious that her tears had messed up her eye make-up.
‘We’ll need to check that with you, Ms Drake. You have an inventory of the keys held by the estate agency, I take it?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you, Mr Bailey, are all your keys where they should be? Everything accounted for?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, taking the small bunch out of my pocket. ‘I haven’t been here for several months. I avoid the place, you know.’
DCI Summers nodded.
‘I can understand that,’ she said. ‘I saw the pictures taken here after the murders, it was gruesome stuff. It’s going to be difficult to shake off the interest in this house now Mr Elliot has died here. I’m sorry about that, Mr Bailey, I know that you’re trying to move on.’
She paused, and I knew it was coming. DCI Summers looked at me.
‘And what about your wife, Mr Bailey?’
She looked at Alex, perhaps wondering how much I’d moved on.
‘Does she have a key, Mr Bailey? Are you still in contact with her? Is it possible that she might access the property?’
It took us a while to get away from the house. We weren’t allowed to enter, and I was advised to get the locks changed and be careful about how the keys were distributed. Strictly speaking, I should have included Meg in that circulation list. Her name was on the deeds, but she’d left me to pay the mortgage. Without a word. She’d have rent to pay, wherever she was living now, but it was making life difficult for me financially.
‘You know, if things are a bit tight, Pete, I’m happy to help out. They pay me far too much for what I do. I’ve got a lot saved in the bank. I can’t spend it. I have nobody ... I have nothing to spend it on anyway. It’s yours, if I can help. You might be able to get yourself a posher caravan!’
I laughed at that. There was a time when Alex and I had shared household expenses. Before Meg came along. I suppose we were never meant to be, we didn’t graduate from single bank accounts. It had been very modern, we’d paid our way fifty–fifty. Alex would pay the rent and I’d reimburse her by standing order. We lived like students. We had two kettles, two toasters and two microwaves from our college days, and my stuff even had my name written on it in black indelible pen, a hands-off warning to anyone thinking about nicking my stuff. I’d never really thought about that.
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