by Sibel Hodge
‘Anyway, you don’t have to worry about him leaving you again now he’s given up the SAS,’ Mum said, as if reading my mind. She knew me too well.
Suzy made more notes on her pad. ‘And have you seen Romeo lately? Does he know you’re marrying Brad?’
‘Our paths have crossed during some investigations. I haven’t said anything to him about the wedding, but I’m sure he would’ve heard it from some of my old friends at the police.’ I paused, desperately hoping Romeo was happy. I’d never meant to hurt him. It’s just that love was a complicated thing, and the rules sometimes got blurred around the edges.
‘You’re not eating.’ Mum nodded to my food. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Then her eyes turned the size of dinner plates. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? You have split up with Brad.’ Her hands flew to her cheeks. ‘That’s the only time you’ve ever lost your appetite in your life.’
‘Not yet, I haven’t!’ I blurted out. That was the trouble with me, sometimes my mouth acted before my brain.
Mum’s hand flew to her chest. ‘Oh, no! Has Aleesha got her sights on your man? That little slut!’ Before I could answer, she carried on, ‘Right. This is serious. You’re supposed to be getting married in seven days! I’ve got my hat and my outfit! The Vegas tickets are booked!’ Her voice rose to screechy parrot level.
Suzy looked smugly at me. ‘I knew something was wrong. Go on, tell me what Brad and Aleesha are up to together.’
I threw my hands in the air. ‘Nothing’s wrong! I’ve just got…indigestion, that’s all,’ I fibbed. God, I’d never get out of here. How did this conversation get to be about me all of a sudden? ‘Yes, I admit that I don’t want Aleesha anywhere near Brad, but I trust him completely. Nothing’s going to happen.’ I hoped. ‘I just want to get her out of my life as soon as possible so I can get back to being excited about the wedding, which is why I need some help on this case.’ I glared at Suzy. ‘Let’s stop talking about me and talk about Dr Spork.’
Looking disappointed, Suzy put the pad and pen on the island.
‘Can erotomanics get out of control? Become dangerous? Or is it just a harmless crush?’ I asked.
‘There is usually an obsessive element to the delusion. And eorotomanics have been known to stalk their victims. Sometimes they will go to extremes to get what they want.’
‘How extreme?’
‘Well, sometimes they send the person love letters or flowers and chocolates, that kind of thing. They sometimes make phone calls or turn up wherever the other person is.’
‘What about threatening letters? Would they send threats to kill the person?’
‘It’s possible, if the erotomania is getting out of control and they feel rejected.’
So, had Dr Spork progressed from sending love notes to sending the threatening ones? ‘What sort of treatment have you been giving him?’
‘A mixture of drugs and cognitive behavioural therapy.’
‘And you think it’s working?’ I seriously doubted it, if he went to Planet Spork on Tuesdays.
‘I’m confident his erotomania is now cured, although it can reoccur. He knows perfectly well now that Aleesha doesn’t secretly love or want him, and she isn’t sending him telepathic signals via the Sporkites.’ She frowned. ‘So, in my professional opinion, I don’t think he would be responsible for sending Aleesha any more chocolate knickers or letters.’ She emphasized the word ‘professional’ and looked at us all like we were a bunch of idiots.
‘OK, how about the delusional thingybob? He still thinks he’s from Planet Spork.’
Her lips tightened. ‘We’re still working on the delusional disorder, but I’m confident it won’t be long before I’ve cured him of that, too. I don’t see how I can be of any more help. I don’t think he’s the one stalking her now.’
‘Dad, Dr Spork said he bought those chocolate knickers at Lace in the Mall. Can you stake out the shop while you’re working and see if he buys them?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean, working?’ Mum asked Dad.
Oops.
Dad sighed. ‘I was going to tell you.’
Mum folded her arms across her chest. ‘Tell me what, exactly? You haven’t got another Neighbourhood Watch thing going on, have you? I thought you were spending lots of time at the mall looking for a suit.’
Dad shot me a look before turning to Mum. ‘They needed someone to help them catch shoplifters. What was I supposed to do? I haven’t been working all day like before, have I?’
I rummaged in my rucksack for the office file and pulled out a photo of Dr Spork, thrusting it at Dad before Mum could have a go at him. Since they’d reached their agreement of Dad only going undercover part time, they’d been enjoying a second honeymoon period, and I didn’t want to upset the apple cart. ‘Here, this is him.’
Luckily, that distracted her. ‘He looks quite normal,’ Mum said, peering over Dad’s shoulder as he examined it.
‘For Sasquatch,’ I said. ‘Anyway, Jeffrey Dahmer looked normal.’
‘Yes, but didn’t he torture animals before he started killing people?’ Dad said. ‘I mean, that’s a dead giveaway for a potential serial killer.’
‘That’s not always the case,’ Suzy said.
‘Has Dr Spork tortured any animals?’ I asked Suzy.
‘Not that I know of. He believes Sporkites are peaceful creatures, and they wouldn’t telepathically tell him to do any harm to someone.’
I didn’t point out that believing in Sporkites in the first place had to be a dead giveaway for something, too.
‘OK, Dad, if you can keep a look out for him at the Mall, plus anyone else buying chocolate knickers, I’d really appreciate it.’
‘Yep. I’ll get down there straight after lunch.’
‘Ooh, I know! I’ll come, too,’ Mum said. ‘I always wanted to look in that shop. I heard they had some really nice French maid’s outfits.’
I pulled a face. Definitely too much information. Maybe the second honeymoon period for them was really working.
Chapter 4
I rang Brad on his mobile with the hands-free as I drove away from Mum and Dad’s with the windows open for some fresh air.
‘Speak,’ Brad said when he picked up.
Brad didn’t have very many traits that annoyed me, but the way he answered the phone was one of them. I did some heavy breathing down the phone.
‘Are you running, Foxy?’
‘Me? Exercise? Are you joking?’
‘Well, stop doing heavy breathing, then.’
‘Stop answering the phone like that, then. Anyway, are you and Aleesha at her house? I want to ask her some questions.’
‘Yes.’
‘How’s the body guarding going?’
‘I’m not really doing much at the moment. Aleesha’s flouncing around in a flimsy dressing gown and reading magazines.’
My eyes became slits. ‘It’s three o’clock. Why’s she in a dressing gown?’ She was dressed earlier, even if she looked like a cheap hooker. No offence to hookers.
I pulled up at a traffic light next to an old man in a classic convertible, roof down.
‘Because Celebrity magazine is coming here later to do another article, and they wanted shots of her showing off her assets in some sexy underwear.’
‘You mean her boobs?’ The word ‘boobs’ came out a lot louder than I anticipated.
The old man in the convertible looked over at me and gave me a nod. ‘Yes, please!’
Oh, God, what was happening to me? I was getting mammary Tourettes now. Aleesha was so bad for my health.
Brad lowered his voice. ‘Don’t worry. I’m staying well away from her.’
‘How can you stay away when you’re guarding her body?’ I sped away from Mr Leery Convertible.
‘Look, she does nothing for me. You’re the only woman I want.’
I went all gooey and melty inside. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Really, really?
’ And now I was turning into a lovesick teenager. Argh!
Jealousy and neediness are not attractive, Amber. Get a grip!
‘Anyway, I have a chaperone,’ Brad said.
‘Who? Another poor man she’s got her hooks into?’
‘Her twin brother. He’s her PA and accompanies her on all her jobs.’
I brightened up then. Surely, nothing would happen if her brother were there. ‘Right, I’ll be there soon.’ I attempted to act like an adult again.
Ten minutes and no more boob outbursts later, I arrived at Aleesha’s six-million-pound mansion. Acres of Hertfordshire fields surrounded a ten-foot wall around the property, and tall iron gates enclosed it at the front with an intercom system. A couple of cars were parked on the road outside, paparazzi guys with big cameras, probably hoping to get another crotch shot before dinner. Ew. That was enough to put me off my dinner, if I wasn’t already.
I pressed the intercom.
‘Yes?’ A muffled voice filled the air.
‘I’m Amber Fox to see Aleesha, please.’
‘I’m buzzing you in now,’ the voice said.
I drove through the pristine gardens, counting no less than six water features, and towards the main house. It looked more like a palace or stately home. How had she got this much money just from flashing off her boobs? Maybe I was in the wrong job. The only thing un-palace-like was the stonework. Originally a nice golden-beige colour, or even white, it was now painted turquoise. Yes, you heard me right. It was a turquoise monstrosity, with turrets and towers and imposing chimneys.
The colour made my eyes go funny as I pulled to a stop on the stone driveway and stared at it. I never wanted to see the colour turquoise again. It would haunt me forever.
I rang the bell, also turquoise, and looked at the step, which was, yep, you guessed it, the T-word again.
A man with short bleached blond hair and black eyebrows answered the door. He was skinny, with lots of blingy diamond studs in both ears. He wore black leather trousers that looked like Aleesha’s, and a tight black satin T-shirt. I think he had makeup on, too. Eyeliner, mascara, a bit of blusher and…I peered closer…pink lip-gloss, if I wasn’t mistaken. I guessed this was the brother. I also guessed he wasn’t exactly straight.
‘Hi!’ he gushed, tilting his head. ‘You must be Amber!’ His voice was high-pitched like an excited school kid. ‘I’m Nathan, Aleesha’s brother, but you can call me “Nate”. Come in.’ He sashayed inside, beckoning me to follow him. ‘We’re all in the kitchen, getting cosy.’
Grrr. Hopefully, not too cosy.
With the age of the old manor-style house, I expected antiques and lots of original features, but the whole place looked like it had been stripped of anything from the original era and replaced with modern décor. The walls, turquoise. Ceiling and cornicing, white (thankfully). Doors, pink. Seriously? Yak. And it got worse. Furniture, grey and black. Kitchen worktops and appliances, red.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a colour headache coming on.
Aleesha sat at a black polished table in the centre of the kitchen, wearing lacy red underwear under a sheer turquoise cover up. Although I think she should’ve sued the manufacturer under the Trade Descriptions Act, because it didn’t actually cover anything up. Still, at least she had underwear on for a change. She sat next to Brad, giggling about something and leaning conspiratorially towards him.
Brad gave me a look as if to say, ‘Help’. Aleesha ignored me.
‘Here we all are!’ Nathan sing-songed and sat down next to Brad, angling towards him, too, with a look of adoration.
‘So, anyway, that’s when I had a wardrobe malfunction, and my nipple fell out on live TV!’ Aleesha touched Brad on the arm, the charms on her bracelet jangling together, and threw her head back, laughing.
I fought the urge to vomit.
‘Ahem.’ I coughed.
‘Oh, hey. I didn’t see you there.’ Aleesha glanced up at me. ‘So, what have you found out?’
‘Not much so far.’ I sat down opposite Brad and felt his foot touch mine. At least I hoped it was his. I glanced up at him, and his eyes widened a fraction, as if he was telepathically telling me to get him out of there.
‘Well, that’s not much use then, is it?’ Aleesha glared at me.
‘I need to ask you some more questions.’ I tried to avoid touching the table surface. Who knew what she did on it.
‘OK, so shoot, I haven’t got all day. I’m being photographed soon.’ She turned away from Brad, who looked relieved, crossed her legs, and tapped her fake nails on the table.
‘I spoke to Dr Spork, who denies he’s been sending you the knickers and letters. I also spoke to his psychiatrist, and she believes he’s got over his obsession with you.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, they would say that, wouldn’t they?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. Have you had any other stalkers over the years?’
‘Yeah, ’course I have. In my job, it’s pretty normal. Men just can’t get enough of me.’ She flashed me a smile. Probably fake teeth, too.
‘Oh, everyone loves Aleesha.’ Nathan clasped his hands together. ‘The men can’t get enough of her. Some women, too.’ He nodded proudly.
‘Have these other stalkers ever sent you things as well?’
‘Oh, yeah. I’ve had vibrators, offers for weekends away, expensive underwear, love songs, letters. Some rich guy even wanted to buy me an island in the Caribbean!’ She sounded pretty pleased with herself.
‘And you didn’t take a hint when you got the expensive underwear?’
‘Huh?’
‘Never mind.’ I shrugged. ‘So, it’s not exactly unusual for fans to send you things?’
‘Nah.’
Which made my job harder. It could be anyone sending stuff to her, or it could indeed be a publicity stunt by Aleesha herself. ‘What’s so unusual about these knickers, then, that you think you’re in danger and need a bodyguard?’ I glanced at Brad.
‘Well, it’s the letters with them. The horrible threats.’ She did one of those tiny Botox frowns again.
‘Show her,’ Nathan said.
Aleesha got up from the table and swaggered out of the room, making sure Brad got an eyeful of ass. When she returned, she had a few sheets of paper in her hand, a brown Jiffy envelope, and a pair of chocolate knickers. Thrusting them in my direction, she said, ‘Here, these are photocopies of most of the notes. The police took the originals, along with the knickers, but since they can’t find out where they’re coming from and there were no fingerprints on them, they’re not doing anything to help. Which is why I hired Brad.’ She squeezed his shoulder.
‘Amber’s the best investigator there is.’ Brad flashed me a proud smile. ‘I’m sure she’ll find out who’s responsible very quickly.’
Did I detect a hint of pleading in his voice to solve the case and get him away from her?
‘That last Jiffy envelope came this morning with another pair of knickers and a letter inside.’ Nathan nodded at the pile.
I read the letters:
‘Die, you bitch. Die.’
‘I will get you back.’
‘I’m going to kill you.’
‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’
‘Slut.’
‘I’ll kill you if it’s the last thing on earth!’
OK, so the slut one was pretty normal.
‘Can I take this last one?’ I asked.
Aleesha nodded warily at it like the letter was about to spring to life and paper-cut her jugular.
If it was Aleesha or Nathan sending them for publicity, she was doing a good job of looking scared for her life. In fact, the terrified look she sported now was the only thing about her that didn’t seem fake. Maybe Brad’s hunch that it was Aleesha wasn’t right, which meant I would have to investigate every angle.
I stuffed the letters in my rucksack. ‘When Dr Spork sent you the knickers before, what did his notes say?’
‘They weren’t like
these ones. They just used to say how much he loved me and how we were supposed to be together and stuff. He bombarded me with them every time I showed up somewhere at a job or club, or he’d hang around outside the house and either throw them at the car or leave them outside the gate. One time he managed to get inside the grounds and left me a pair by the swimming pool outside. They melted.’
I mulled that over in my head. I supposed it could be a copycat stalker, trying to pin the blame on Dr Spork. Probably plenty of people in the crowds would’ve seen him giving her the knickers before. Plus, the media coverage about the case had been huge, thanks to Aleesha giving another crotch flash as she arrived at court to get the restraining order. It could be someone who was obsessed with her, or someone who hated her. Sounded like there were a lot of those about.
‘Creepy, huh?’ Nathan pulled a lemon-sucking face.
‘I don’t want to turn into John Lennon,’ Aleesha shrieked.
‘I don’t think there’s any chance of that,’ I said.
‘No, I mean, usually stalker’s behaviour escalates, doesn’t it?’ Aleesha glared at me. ‘They try harder and harder to get the attention of the person they’re harassing until it gets out of hand.’
‘Well, the stalker is obviously trying to get your attention about putting some knickers on for a change. I’m sure he’s not the only one that would appreciate not seeing everything on full display,’ I whispered under my breath.