Chapter 11
Julia Talbot
Monday
It was there, in front of me. I’d spent the best part of two hours trawling the internet for it while Lucy was in the living room with the TV turned low, thinking I was asleep.
I paused a moment to listen for her. I heard her voice. I couldn’t make out all of the words, but it sounded like she was on the phone to James, which meant she’d be a while. He should be coming back from Dubai this week. I’d not met him yet, but now wasn’t the right time. I was irritable and snappy with everyone. I dreaded him coming back – Lucy would want to see him, and I’d be left on my own.
I rested my back against the headboard and re-angled the laptop screen in case I’d got it wrong. I was ready to slam the lid down in a second if Lucy came in. I peered at the image in the gloom of my dark bedroom, but there could be no doubt.
I’d found Jonny Cane.
It had been a long time, but here he was. The photograph was of him in a dark nightclub, one arm coming towards the camera in a fist, the other wrapped around a mate’s neck, dragging the drunken man closer for the picture. They were the same blue eyes I’d known all those years before, but so much had changed. He was a man now. I felt sick and angry all at the same time.
At least I knew where he was. His profile was sparse, but it said he worked in London. I’d hoped he’d be far away from me, far away from the police. But he was so close; it made it hard to breathe.
There was another photo of him in the driver’s seat of a black matt-finish BMW. It looked like he’d done well for himself in the year he’d been out on licence. I couldn’t imagine he’d got that car through legitimate work.
He was hard to track down. It wasn’t until I’d used the app Swipebuster that I’d finally found him. All I needed was his name, age and area, plus a paltry three pounds to buy the app, and then I could find out if ‘my man was cheating on Tinder’.
Thank you, Tinder.
I’d first used Swipebuster a few months back. I’d started to get suspicious of Mark, the late nights and the weekends away. I’d found nothing and felt awful for even doubting him. He’d asked me to marry him a month later and I’d felt even worse that I’d spied on him. I’d nearly confessed to him what I’d done, but decided that would be crazy. But perhaps my initial suspicions hadn’t been so wrong after all. He’d lied about the mortgage payments – perhaps that wasn’t all he’d been lying about. I was so angry with him, leaving me with all this mess and doubt, but then the anger changed to fear and guilt.
I looked at Jonny and the old feelings flared up. He’d been my first crush. He was still good looking, despite the years in prison. He was bigger than I’d imagined. He must have been working out. What should I do now that I’d found him? Lucy was right – Jonny was dangerous. Perhaps I should leave him well alone.
Though maybe he was just getting on with his life. Maybe he never even thought about me at all. I had to hope.
I pulled up the Facebook appeal page Lucy and I had created for Mark. My time was better spent looking for him online. If the police checked my search history, it wouldn’t just be Jonny Cane they’d find. I’d used the incognito setting on Google to search for him, but I didn’t know if that would stop the police discovering it.
There were ten unread messages. One woman swore she’d seen Mark at Bank station in a suit, but she couldn’t be sure; she was in a rush. She described him as having green eyes. Mark’s blue eyes flashed in my mind. The way they lit up when he looked at me. I felt the weight of pain settle inside my chest, wondered if I’d ever feel normal again. If anything would ever be normal again.
Halfway through the messages was an odd one from a Chantelle Jones. She said that she had some information but she didn’t want to talk to the police. She’d sent the page a friend request. I accepted. I peered at Chantelle’s photo on Facebook. She was about my age, pretty. She looked like a party girl, her low-cut dress showing off cleavage, the lighting of the photo altered to make it soft and flattering.
A direct message suddenly appeared on Facebook Messenger. It was from her. I clicked on it.
‘I have some information. I don’t want to speak to anyone but you. I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with the police. Is that okay?’
I stared at the words glowing on my screen. Who was she? ‘What’s the information?’ I typed back.
‘I can’t write it down. I’ll tell you in person, that’s best. But I can’t get involved, I’m sorry.’
I didn’t like this. DC Loxton had warned me about nut jobs, to tell her straight away if anyone made contact with possible information. I didn’t want to deal with a nutter. I knew how dangerous people could be.
‘Why don’t you want to get involved with the police?’
‘I had a bad experience with them before and I swore I’d never go to them again,’ Chantelle typed. ‘Look, we can meet in public. I want to help you, I just can’t get involved. You’ll understand when I meet you.’
I typed the words out again. ‘What information?’
‘I can email the stuff anonymously to the police but it might cause you some problems.’
The words burned on the screen. Might cause me some problems? Did she know about my past? Did she know something about Jonny? I couldn’t trust the police, especially not with something as fragile as the truth. I needed to find out what Chantelle knew.
She was typing more but then the dots disappeared. After a moment they started again and the message popped up: ‘Can we meet? Just you and me?’
The text prompt flashed impatiently at me. What did she know? And why just the two of us?
‘Where do you want to meet?’ I asked.
‘The Night Jar Bar, Southwark. It’s public. Tomorrow. 6pm okay?’
‘Are you a reporter?’
‘No, I’m not one of them. It’s not like that. I want to help you find Mark. I’ll be wearing a green dress.’
‘Ok.’ I typed. ‘Tomorrow 6pm. Please help me find Mark.’
‘I will. I promise.’
I let out a slow breath. I should take Lucy with me, but Chantelle expected me to go alone, and I didn’t want to scare her off. I should tell Lucy about the meeting at least, but what if she tried to stop me going to see this girl? What if she insisted on coming with me? I needed to find out what Chantelle knew and what she was going to do with the information. She could be trying to blackmail me about my past for all I knew.
I closed my laptop and slid it under the covers. My legs ached as I moved them and I was tired to my bones, but my mind was racing. I wriggled down the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I closed my eyes, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep.
The wooden floorboards creaked as Lucy came along the corridor towards me. They were the familiar sounds of my flat, but instead of him, it was her making them.
‘I thought I heard you get up. Still can’t sleep?’ She was frowning as she came in. She didn’t put the light on, instead letting the corridor’s light seep into the room. ‘Those pills should have worked. Have you taken them?’
‘I had a nightmare; it woke me up.’
She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘What about?’
‘Nothing,’ I said.
‘Jonny?’ She tilted her head at me, struggling to hide her concern.
‘No,’ I said.
Her frowned deepened. I was never very good at lying to her. She almost always spotted it. ‘You need to stop thinking about Jonny. This isn’t helping Mark. Or anyone.’
I knew she was talking about herself; the years of secrets weighing down on her as well as me. I wanted to pretend it had never happened too, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to put Lucy through all of it again.
‘It was just a nightmare,’ I said.
‘I know this is hard, but Mark will be back before you know it.’ She patted my arm and smiled.
‘The police don’t think so,’ I said.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Wh
en they interviewed me, they were asking so many questions. They said he’d been stealing from the bank.’
‘What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Mark wouldn’t do that. He’s not stupid. I’m sure there’s an explanation,’ Lucy said. ‘By the way, the police are going to come by my house tomorrow evening after work.’
Why hadn’t they asked her to come to the police station, like me? My brain started to whir again.
‘You look like you haven’t slept at all. You really need to try or you’re going to make yourself ill.’
‘I know.’ She was right, I felt drained, and my head was so muddled, a few hours might make things clearer.
She leaned across and hugged me. ‘If you need me, I’ll be in the spare room.’
‘Night.’ I turned onto my side and closed my eyes. I heard her retreating footsteps on the floorboards and the door closing behind her.
It would be all right. Everything would be all right. I just needed to be careful.
Chapter 12
Alana Loxton
Tuesday
Loxton knocked hard on the red door. Had Webb forgotten they were coming? She glanced at Kowalski and he shrugged back, just as a flustered-looking Webb opened the door, a strand of auburn hair falling loose from her ponytail.
‘Sorry, I can’t talk long. Julia’s been on her own all day.’ Webb was itching to get back to her friend. People often reacted like this when the police came to their house, as if they were an omen that brought disaster with them. Sometimes Loxton felt like she was a curse.
‘It won’t take long.’ She squeezed past Webb and into the cramped hallway.
Webb invited them into the living room and motioned at a sofa, unsure of herself. ‘Sorry, first full day back in the office today and now this . . .’ She smiled at them apologetically.
‘We understand.’ Loxton sat down, sinking into the ancient fabric of the cream sofa, which was crowded with a pattern of large pink roses. The arms were thread-worn from years of use. In one corner of the living room stood an imposing mahogany display cabinet with porcelain Victorian figurines of pale children posing in neat rows. It was like a museum.
Webb perched on the edge of a matching cream and pink armchair crossing her legs and folding her arms. ‘I doubt I’ve got anything useful to say.’
‘We still need to ask. Where were you last Saturday afternoon?’ Loxton asked.
‘I headed to the Silver Tree to meet Julia.’
‘What time did you get there?’
‘I’m not sure. Sometime around two I think. It might have been nearer three.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Julia was quite nervous. She rang a few people to check on details, kept fussing with her dress. We didn’t go to dinner until after eight, I remember being starving. I guess brides-to-be get used to feeling hungry in the fight to fit in the dress, but bridesmaids are meant to be a bit plumper, aren’t they?’
Loxton smiled at Webb. She felt like they were breaking through with her, building a rapport.
‘I can imagine,’ Loxton said. ‘How was Julia before the wedding?’
‘Nervous and excited. She was besotted with Mark.’ Webb smiled sadly. ‘I know Julia sometimes comes across as cold, but she’s had a traumatic life. When bad things happen, she tends to withdraw. I’ve seen it before.’
‘Can you tell us about her parents? The car crash?’ Loxton asked.
‘We were seventeen. It was the summer holidays and her parents were going away for a weekend. The police said they died on impact. One minute Julia’s life was perfect and the next everything just fell apart. Her parents’ death left a massive void.’
‘Seventeen’s so young. How did she get by?’ Loxton crossed her legs, trying to mimic Webb’s body language.
‘Julia inherited her parents’ house.’ Webb said. ‘Her parents’ life insurance took care of the finances.’
Loxton tried not to let her surprise show. Another big life insurance pay-out. And Julia Talbot seemed about to receive another one if Rowthorn never turned up. She was making a habit of surviving off them.
‘Julia threw herself into her studies,’ Lucy continued. ‘University was her goal; it promised to take her away from that house and the memories.’
‘I can’t find any reports of the car accident.’ Loxton leaned back, trying to look relaxed.
‘That’s odd.’ Webb looked puzzled. ‘It was in the local papers. I guess it pre-dated the internet though. The local paper should have a record.’ Loxton had already checked that – nothing.
‘How was Mark before the wedding?’ Kowalski asked.
‘I wouldn’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ve never hit it off. I don’t know why. It’s a shame really. I guess before the wedding he seemed distant, but that’s normal for him. You can be talking to him and you know he’s not really listening.’ Webb’s hands clenched on her arms.
That had hit a nerve. Loxton tried to keep the interest out of her voice. ‘Distant?’
‘Even when he was with Julia, it was like he was somewhere else. I’m sorry, I’m not explaining it very well.’ She rubbed her face with her hands. She looked tired. Her friend’s distress taking its toll. ‘He was one of those people who struggled to be interested in other people. Everything always had to be about him.’
‘What do you think has happened to him?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns up in a few days with his tail between his legs.’ Webb scowled at the thought.
‘Please, go on,’ Loxton said.
‘He’s never struck me as one for commitment. I was shocked when he proposed. Then he talked about them emigrating to America after they were married. I think it was his way of trying to ditch her, to be honest.’
‘Why would America put her off?’ Loxton asked. ‘Her jewellery business is here . . . her friends. She’d never leave London.’
‘You think Mark’s run off somewhere?’
‘He might have panicked the night before and now he’s holed up somewhere trying to build up the courage to come home.’ Webb pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘Julia told me about the trouble he got himself into at work. Maybe it all got on top of him?’
‘Do you think there could be another woman?’ Loxton watched Webb’s face carefully.
Webb’s brow creased as she thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know. He seemed pretty smitten with Julia at the beginning. But recently . . . she’d said he seemed distant. I was hoping it was just wedding pressure, maybe something all couples go through. I wouldn’t know personally.’ She motioned at her wedding finger, where there was no ring.
‘Would anyone try to hurt him?’ Kowalski asked.
‘Who would want to hurt him?’ Webb looked from Kowalski to Loxton.
‘Humour us.’ Loxton dropped the fishing line, sure there was something to catch.
Webb unfolded her arms and inspected her burgundy nail varnish as if playing for time while she decided what to do. A moment passed. Loxton waited. People hated quiet moments; they were desperate to fill them.
‘He worked hard,’ Webb said looking up at Loxton. ‘But he partied hard too. I saw him take coke a few times, that’s all.’
‘When did you last see him take coke?’
‘Their engagement party. I didn’t see him take it, but Mark and David went into the toilets together and came out hyper.’
‘David takes drugs?’
‘From what Julia’s said, David’s a real coke-head. He gets coke for Mark.’ Webb paused and looked at them both. ‘I thought you’d know all this?’
‘We didn’t know all of it,’ Loxton said, but, in truth, she hadn’t spotted this at all. Both Steele and Rowthorn had come back negative for any drug intel. ‘Please, it all helps.’
‘I shouldn’t have said anything. David would be angry if he knew I’d told you all this. It’s not my business really.’ Webb began tapping her foot.
‘Is he aggressive?’ Kowalski asked.
‘Hasn’t he got
a record?’ Webb looked surprised; her foot stopped its nervous rhythm.
‘Has he ever been violent when you’ve been with him?’ Loxton asked.
‘I hardly know him,’ Webb said. ‘I’m sure he’s got nothing to do with all this.’ She shook her head, annoyed at herself for saying too much.
‘Have you ever taken coke?’ Loxton asked.
‘I can’t stand it. Turns people into complete arseholes and some addicts. My father was an addict, though alcohol was his poison.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Loxton said.
‘It doesn’t matter now, he’s dead.’ Webb shook her head slightly.
‘Does Julia take cocaine?’ Kowalski asked.
Webb stared at Kowalski and then Loxton. ‘Of course not. You don’t know anything, do you? Look, I don’t want it getting back to her that I told you about Mark’s drug habit. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’ Webb checked her watch.
‘For us to find Mark, we need to know everything,’ Loxton said.
‘Julia’s defensive when it comes to Mark. You can’t say a bad word against him. She’d go ballistic if she heard me talking about him like this.’ Webb looked down at her hands.
‘How well do you know him?’ Loxton asked.
‘Not well,’ she admitted. ‘We haven’t really got anything in common. He’s a banker; I’m just a lowly accountant to him. I was never convinced he was the one for Julia if I’m honest. But what would I know?’ Webb wrung her hands as if she’d said more than she’d meant to. ‘Look, I need to get going.’
‘We won’t be much longer,’ Kowalski said.
‘You’re her best friend.’ Loxton watched Webb closely. She knew the woman was holding back. ‘Why did you think Mark wasn’t right for her?’
Webb glanced at the door, as if wishing she could make a run for it. ‘Look, Mark has a bit of a temper.’ Webb shifted uncomfortably on her seat, a pained expression on her face. ‘Julia won’t tell you this, but they argue a lot. He doesn’t always treat her that great. Work comes first, his friends and family. She makes excuses for him all the time.’ Webb was frowning now.
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