by Rachel Ward
‘All right, Eileen?’ Ant said, as swept past him. Bea hardly dared look, but couldn’t help herself.
‘He hasn’t done anything! Not my Dean,’ Eileen shouted. ‘It’s victimisation! I’m going down to the station. I’ll get him out of there.’
She disappeared through the staff door.
Ant looked at Bea. ‘That’s that then,’ he said. ‘I had him down as a complete tosser, but I’m a bit surprised . . . ’
She frowned and said, ‘Shh, not in front of the customers.’
But around her, it was all anyone was talking about. They’d arrested the murderer. The Kingsleigh Stalker had been caught.
‘Weaselly little bloke, wasn’t he? Do you know him?’ a woman in a shiny mac was asking Kirsty at the next till.
‘He works here,’ was all Kirsty would say.
Eileen reappeared, this time in her ‘civvies’ and accompanied by Gavin.
‘Keep me posted,’ Bea heard Gavin say as he walked her to the front door. ‘Take as much time as you need.’
The officers stayed behind to search the Stores, which were declared out of bounds.
‘No shelf filling. No checking for items not on display. Just for a few hours,’ said Neville, going down the line briefing the checkout staff. ‘If we don’t have an item, a courteous apology is the best we can do at the moment. Apart from that, it’s business as usual.’
At lunchtime the staffroom was still buzzing. Ant was all ready to join in the fun, but Bea dragged him away and they headed for the café across the car park instead. Ant was grinning as he tucked into a big plate of beans on toast. Bea couldn’t even bring herself to order any food. She sipped at the eye-wateringly strong tea in her mug, and looked glumly at the menu.
‘I’m sorry about, you know, Tom,’ said Ant. ‘You’re better off without him, though.’
Bea put her mug down.
‘I can’t even think about him. Not yet.’
‘What is it, then? What’s up? I thought you weren’t even talking to me.’ Bean juice spilled out of the corner of his mouth and he wiped it with a paper napkin.
‘It was me, Ant. I got Dean arrested.’
‘What?’
‘Last night, I told Tom that Dean was shady. Twelve hours later . . . ’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘Well, he is shady.’
‘Yeah, but is he a killer? Or have I just caused someone a whole lot of trouble who doesn’t really deserve it?’
‘He deserves everything coming to him, that git.’
‘What if isn’t him?’
‘I dunno. Shall we look at your list again?’
‘I think I might be done with my list, Ant. Everyone’s right. We shouldn’t be meddling with this. We should leave it to the police. I think I’ve done enough.’ She took her precious piece of paper out of her pocket and crumpled it up in her hands, then dropped it on the table. ‘I’ve made a mess of things and Dot’s in hospital. I think it’s time to declare our crime-fighting adventure over.’
‘Hmm, shame. But maybe you’re right. What about covering for Anna?’
‘I reckon I should do it. Stop playing detective and concentrate on my job here. Who knows, perhaps Big Gav’s right and I have got potential for better things.’
‘Course you have.’
Bea looked at him, but he was being perfectly sincere.
‘I know my limits,’ said Ant, ‘but you, you could do anything you wanted. I don’t really understand why you’re on the checkouts.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re brighter than all the others put together. Why are you even in Costsave? You could have an office job somewhere, earn some decent money.’
‘I’m not that bright, Ant. I failed my A-levels.’
He pulled a face. ‘Exams,’ he snorted. ‘I didn’t even turn up to mine. What subjects did you do?’
‘English, French and Maths.’
He whistled through his teeth. ‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘I said you were brainy, didn’t I? That’s serious stuff.’
‘Yeah, but like I said, I failed.’
‘Have a go at Anna’s job, then. See how you get on.’
Bea swilled the last of her tea round in the bottom of the mug. ‘Yeah, I reckon I will. Thanks, Ant.’
‘What for?’
‘Being nice.’
‘Ha, don’t get called that very often. So we’re friends again, yeah? You’ve forgiven me for telling you about Tom?’
Bea scowled. ‘I don’t even want to hear his name. Wanker.’
Ant pressed his lips together sympathetically.
‘Walk you home tonight?’
‘Yeah, if you don’t mind waiting. I’d better go and give Gav his answer.’
‘No probs.’
At the end of her shift, Bea got changed and put on her coat. She could hear voices coming from Gavin’s office. She slowed down and stood listening, just outside the door.
‘Things are really stretched now, Gavin. We don’t need to be carrying any dead wood.’ The nasal voice was unmistakeably Neville’s.
‘Dead wood?’ Gavin replied.
‘That lad, Anthony. He’s not good for anything.’
‘I’ve identified particular development needs for him, Neville. Head office are dealing with my request for the training.’
‘Care to share that with me?’ There was a testy edge to Neville’s question. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘There’s nothing “wrong”, Neville. That’s not a helpful attitude. It’s not the Costsave way. I’ll tell you when it’s all approved.’
‘It feels like Costsave is falling apart. With Ginny . . . gone, and now Dean arrested. The place is going to the dogs.’
‘Dean’s only being questioned. No charges yet, remember. I know it’s not looking good for him, but innocent until proven guilty.’
‘Innocent? Huh. That’s one thing he isn’t. I looked at the egg stock records. There was huge variance in the percentage loss through breakage around Halloween.’
‘Can you put that in a written report to me, please, Neville? There are other things I’m not happy about. There was the fight at the Legion. And when I went down to look at the Stores with the police, it was clear that Dean wasn’t adhering to our equal opportunities policy.’
‘The pictures in his “den”?’
‘You knew about them?’
Neville sniffed loudly. ‘I did. We’d had words about it.’
‘And there were magazines too.’
‘Magazines? Disgusting. Poor Ginny.’
‘They haven’t charged him yet.’
‘But with that attitude to women . . . ’
‘Let’s wait and see.’
There was the scuffling sound of a chair moving backwards. Bea realised she was about to get caught listening. She crept back along the corridor a little way, then walked normally towards the door, knocking as soon as she reached it. Gavin and Neville looked her way.
‘Ah, Bea, come in. Sit down. Neville’s just going, although you can stay if you want to, Neville.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Bea. ‘I only popped in to say yes. I’ll give it a go.’
Gavin beamed at her. ‘Great. That’s great, isn’t it, Neville?’
Neville forced himself to crack a smile.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Of course, although how we’re going to cover the tills . . . ’
‘We’ll manage. We could offer the students some more hours. Have a look at it tomorrow, will you, Neville?’
‘Yes. Well, good night.’ Neville stalked out of the office. Bea was about to follow in his slipstream, when Gavin called her back.
‘Thank you, Bea, and welcome aboard,’ he said. ‘I’m looking forward to working with you. You can do this. You’ve got management potential, Bea.’
Bea scuffed her feet on the carpet. ‘Don’t know about that, but I’ll try my best.’
The phone on the desk started ringing. Bea tipped her head to the door, but Gavin held
up his hand. He picked up the phone.
‘Gavin Howells. Yes. Yes. I see. Okay, thank you.’
He replaced the receiver but kept his hand on it for a little while.
‘It’s Dean,’ he said, and Bea’s stomach fluttered. ‘The police have let him go without charge. He’s got a cast-iron alibi for the night Ginny was killed. He was with his mum Eileen.’ He blew a long breath out through pursed lips.
Bea couldn’t own up to listening in before, so she searched for something neutral to say.
‘Well, that’s good then, isn’t it?’
Gavin leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the desk. He pinched the skin at the top of his nose.
‘There are some . . . disciplinary issues to deal with. But that’s not what’s bothering me.’
‘What then?’
He looked up at her and his face was haunted. ‘We’ve all lost someone we loved, Bea. This place, this family, is suffering. If he didn’t do it, Bea, who did?’
18
The next morning when Bea saw a hooded figure cycling across the rec towards her, she thought at first that it was Ant again. But as they got closer, she realised her mistake. She looked around. There were a couple of schoolkids about twenty metres behind, and a rotund, elderly dog walker the other side of the grass. Would any of them help her? She got her phone out of her pocket and dialled Ant’s number.
The cyclist stopped on the path ahead of her, blocking her way.
The phone was ringing but no one was picking up. Bea took a deep breath.
‘Dean,’ she said.
‘All right, Bea.’
His lank hair was spilling out of his hood. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin had the unhealthy shine of accumulated grease. She waited for him to say something else, but he just stood there, looking.
‘On your way to work?’ she said. She stepped off the path to go round him. He jerked the handlebars of the bike and turned it around.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Got a phone call from Gavin first thing. Told me not to come in. I’m suspended while they consider my future.’
‘Oh. Right. Sorry to hear that. I’d have gone back to bed, if that was me.’
She started walking towards the High Street. There’d be more people there. Safer. Dean pedalled his bike slowly beside her, looping around her, weaving in front and behind.
‘Gone back to bed with that copper?’
Her stomach flipped. ‘What copper? What you talking about?’
‘You were seen.’ A little bit of spit landed on the path in front of her. She kept walking.
‘Seen? Seen where?’
‘Going off with that carrot top, in his car, from the fireworks. You and him. A copper and his snitch.’
‘Dean, I didn’t say anything to him. We were on a date.’
‘And they came for me the very next day. They were “acting on information”.’
‘It wasn’t me.’
He stopped the bike in front of her again.
‘I don’t believe you, bitch.’
Bitch. MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, BITCH. It had to have been him.
‘Believe what you like. Excuse me. I’ve got to get to work.’
She sidestepped again, but he shot out an arm and held onto her.
‘And I haven’t, because you’ve spoilt it for me.’
‘Let go, Dean, or I’m calling the police.’
His grip got stronger. He leaned in so his face was closer to hers. ‘It’s not me, I’m worried about. It’s my mum. I’ve never seen her so upset. You can’t do that to her. No one does that to her.’
‘Dean, I told you. I haven’t done anything.’
‘We love our mums, don’t we? We don’t like them getting hurt.’
Bea’s breakfast – Coco Pops and a slice of toast – formed a solid ball in her stomach. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘No, Bea. Why would you think that?’
‘I haven’t done anything to you. You stay away from me and mine, okay? Do I make myself clear?’
Dean was smiling now, that familiar wolfish grin. He’d got to her and they both knew it. He looked at his watch.
‘Tut, tut. You’ll be late.’
He let go of her arm and she darted past him. Again, he pedalled along beside her.
‘You can go now, Dean. I got the message.’
‘I’ll make sure you get there safely. There are some nasty people about at the moment.’
‘It’s okay. I can look after myself.’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’d rather you left me alone.’
‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Bea. I’m not going anywhere. It’s a free country.’
‘All right, Bea?’ They both turned round to see Ant running towards them. He caught up with them. ‘Thought I could smell rotten eggs – reckoned there was some trouble at the sewage works, but I was wrong. It was right here.’
Bea was tempted to hug him, but instead she linked her arm through his. Dean looked at him with disgust. He bumped his bike off the edge of the pavement and started cycling in the road next to them.
‘Can I borrow your brolly, Bea?’ Ant said.
Bea looked up at the clear sky overhead.
‘Sure,’ she said, handing it over.
‘Ta.’ Ant took the umbrella and in one swift movement poked it into the spokes of Dean’s front wheel. The bike ground to a halt and Dean toppled sideways onto the tarmac.
‘You fucking idiot!’ he shouted. ‘That’s assault, that is. I could have you for that.’
‘Do want the number?’ Bea said and held out her phone.
‘Fuck off!’ Dean said, picking himself and the bike up. Ant and Bea left him to it.
‘You okay?’ said Ant.
‘Yeah. He knows, though.’
‘Knows what?’
‘That I told Tom. Bloody hell, Ant, this just gets worse. He’s on the loose, hating my guts, and he’s not even the killer. There’s someone else out there. Someone on my list.’
‘Forget your list, Bea. We agreed to let it drop, didn’t we?’
‘I don’t think I can, Ant. It feels personal. And now I’m going to be in the office, I can look at the CCTV, the customer records, staff time sheets.’
Ant sucked some air in through his teeth. ‘Be careful, though, mate. Don’t let Gav or Neville catch you snooping. They wouldn’t like it.’
‘I know.’
‘Which reminds me, I’ve got something on Kevin, that photographer.’
‘Yeah?’
‘He doesn’t just visit his mum’s house to be nice. He’s got a studio there. Keeps all his kit, lights and that in a shed in the back garden.’
‘How do you know?’
‘My brother Stevo’s ex-girlfriend’s friend told him. She wants to be a model and had some pictures done. Cost her two hundred quid and they weren’t all that, apparently.’
‘So he’s a rip-off merchant.’
‘Bit more than that – he asked her to take her top off.’
‘Did she?’
‘No.’
‘So, it was all okay.’
‘Sort of. Who asks a fourteen-year-old to take their top off? That’s not right, is it?’
‘She was fourteen?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Perv.’
He nodded.
They’d reached the staff entrance.
‘So, I’ll see you at break time then,’ said Ant. ‘Enjoy your morning in the office.’
‘Thanks.’
She didn’t need to use a locker today. She hung her coat on the back of the office door and walked over to Anna’s desk. There were a few sheets of paper in the top of a stack of trays, some pens in a pot next to the computer screen, a photo of two cats, and that was it. Anna ran a tight ship with a neat desk. Bea tentatively pulled the chair out a little and sat down. Could she really do this? What was it she was meant to do? She smoothed down the side of her skirt and one of her nails caught in the fa
bric. She reached into her handbag and took out a nail file and started tidying up the offender.
‘Settling in, I see.’ Neville was standing in the doorway.
‘It’s important to look the part,’ said Bea. She was actually really pleased with her outfit today – pencil skirt, blouse with a bow at the neck and a little cardigan to go over the top.
Neville sniffed. ‘Mr Howells will be through in a minute to go through your work plan for the day. While you’re waiting you can collect the post and check the answer machine. The post box is—’
‘I know. Inside the side door. I’ll go now.’
She went downstairs and emptied the post box. As she was walking along the corridor to go back upstairs someone barged past her.
‘Dean! You’re not meant to be—’
‘I’m collecting my stuff, okay? Clearing my locker. I’m allowed to do that.’
‘Yeah. Okay. Right.’
Back in her office, she opened the letters and put the envelopes in the recycling bin. She read the contents but couldn’t do much with most of the letters, so she listened to the answer machine. There were three new messages, all for Gavin. She noted the names and numbers on the lined pad next to the phone and then looked around for something else to do. The drawers of her desk were locked. She searched the desk top for the key, then started looking around the whole office.
Hermione was smart, really smart. If she didn’t carry the keys with her, where would she hide them? Bea tried under the plant pot on top of the filing cabinet and behind the framed print of a Welsh beach that hung on the wall. No joy.
Rather than bothering Gavin, she sent a quick text to Anna.
Hey Hermione, hope you’re enjoying your new job. I’m filling in for you. Yes, me! Where are the keys to your drawers?
She waited less than a minute for the reply.
Ha! Wondered if they’d ask you. Congrats! Key to top drawer is stuck underneath desk w Blu-Tack. Other keys in drawer. Passwords, etc. in file marked Health and Safety 2014 no one looks there. Any probs just txt. Good luck!
Thanks, babe. You too. Don’t forget us, will you. Xxx
Bea reached under the desk and found the key. She unlocked the top drawer, and, sure enough, there were a couple of bunches of other keys, along with some scissors, a stapler, some paperclips, a small tube of hand cream and a tin box marked ‘Petty Cash’. She spent a few happy minutes testing the keys and unlocking the filing cabinets. When she found the Health and Safety 2014 file, she returned to the desk and fired up Anna’s computer.