by Rachel Ward
‘We were on our way here already. Was he carrying a weapon, a knife or anything?’
‘A knife?’ Queenie suddenly looked alarmed. ‘No. Not that I saw.’
‘But you asked him to leave and he refused?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s trespass, at least. And threatening behaviour. We’ll get rid of him for you.’ The two police officers went into the house. Ant stayed with Queenie. She was starting to shiver so Ant offered her his sweaty hoodie. She looked doubtful, but he took it off and helped her thread her arms into the sleeves.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It is nippy out here, isn’t it?’
‘Mmn, freezing.’ He smiled at her. ‘Just realised you’re outside. I thought you didn’t—’
‘Outside seemed safer than in, today, love. I wish I’d put some shoes on, though. The cold’s coming through the soles of my slippers.’
Ant grinned. ‘We’ll sort that out when they’ve got Dean out of there. Have you heard from Bea? I’ve been trying to get hold of her.’
‘Oh, it’s all right. She’ll be here in a minute.’
‘Did you speak to her?’
‘No, she texted. Bit odd, ’cause I thought she would’ve rung me. She doesn’t often send me texts.’
There was some shouting from inside the house, the sound of a scuffle.
Ant whipped out his phone. He found Bea’s mobile number in his contacts and pressed ‘call’. Dean was being led down the garden path now. He was flanked by Tom on one side and Shaz on the other. Ant could see the glint of the handcuffs joining him to Tom. Dean was mouthing off, protesting against ‘police brutality’, but he stopped, mid-rant, when he heard the phone ringing. His free hand went to his back pocket and then he looked up, straight at Ant. Ant killed the call and sprinted towards him.
‘Oi! What are you doing?’ Tom shouted.
Ant made a sort of war cry, a sound of pure fury. He cannoned into Dean and knocked him off his feet. Tom’s arm was jerked backwards by the handcuffs and the rest of him followed. He landed awkwardly on the concrete path next to Dean and screamed with pain. Ant balled up his fists and aimed a couple of decent blows into Dean’s ribs. ‘You thieving little shit!’
He reached underneath him and found the phone.
Tom was writhing on the ground. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched. ‘My arm! My arm!’ But Ant paid no attention.
‘No wonder Bea wasn’t picking up. Where did you get this? What’ve you done to her?’
Dean was still breathless from the punches Ant had landed. ‘I haven’t done anything,’ Dean gasped.
‘Liar!’ Ant screamed in his face. ‘This is her phone. Where did you get this from?’
‘Her desk. She’d left it on her desk.’
‘Did you text her mum with this?’
Dean didn’t answer, so Ant balled up his fist and held it up to Dean’s face. ‘Did you?’
Dean nodded. Ant was about to pummel Dean’s nose when Shaz caught hold of his arm.
‘That’s enough,’ she said.
‘He’s got her phone. He’s done something to her.’
‘Shut up, dickhead,’ Dean shouted. ‘I haven’t done anything to her.’
Ant sat back on his heels. Maybe Dean was telling the truth. He’d nicked the phone before they all went to the pub. So Bea was all right. She’d have gone to Costsave, realised her phone wasn’t there and gone back to the pub. She was probably in the Nag’s Head right now.
The Costsave car park was almost empty. Just a few staff vehicles here and there. Bob’s estate car had been lifted onto the back of a police towaway truck earlier in the afternoon. Bea walked round the side of the building, noticing the sound her boots made on the tarmac. Apart from that it was quiet, a heavy, empty sort of evening.
It felt wrong to be here on her own. She wished she’d waited for Ant now. But it wouldn’t take long – she’d have a quick scan of the locker room, the staffroom and her office. Her eyes were tired and itchy. She rubbed at one absentmindedly and felt one of her megalashes come free. She thought it was stuck to her hand, but when she looked it wasn’t there. It was too dark to see where it had gone.
She punched in the code for the staff door and let herself in, flicking the light switch just inside. She scuttled to the stairs, ignoring the door to the shop floor. The thought of that huge space – devoid of customers, eerie, empty and dark – made her shudder.
She climbed the stairs and checked out the locker room, including the toilet stalls. She couldn’t see her phone. The lockers were all tight shut, except for one. The door to Ginny’s locker wasn’t quite level with the others. There was no reason for her phone to be in there. She hadn’t looked inside since the day she found Kevin’s card. Even so, Bea bent down and opened the metal door. There was nothing there.
She realised she’d been holding her breath and forced herself to breathe normally. This was Costsave, the same place she came every day, the place where she worked with her mates. But somehow it was utterly different tonight.
A quick tour of the staffroom revealed nothing more than some grotty cups that should have been washed out at the end of the day. Bea headed for her office. The harsh strip light made her feel more normal, shutting out the oppressive weight of the darkness in the rest of the building. She was nearly done now and then she could get back to the warmth and noise of the pub.
When the office phone on the desk started ringing, she jumped out of her skin. She knew she should let it go to answerphone. After all, it was way outside office hours and she wasn’t on duty any more. But something prompted her to pick it up.
‘Hello?’
‘Bea!’
She smiled when she heard Anna’s voice. ‘Hey, Hermione, how are you doing?’
‘I’m fine. Missing K-town.’
‘Really? It’s like Midsomer Murders here. You’re better off out of it. They’ve arrested Bob now.’
‘Bob-on-Meat? You’re kidding?’
‘No. He had a hammer in his drawer with Ginny’s hair on it.’
‘Oh shit. But, really, Bob?’
‘I know. You working late?’
Bea scanned the room one more time.
‘Yeah, just about to pack up. Thought I’d ring in case you were working late too, needed any help.’
‘No, I’m fine. I just came back to the office to look for my phone. Thought I must have left it here, but I can’t find it. How are things going?’
She opened her desk drawer with one hand and started scrabbling through.
‘It’s great. Really interesting.’
‘Lucky you spotted the advert.’
‘I didn’t. It wasn’t my idea. Gavin found the advert and put my name forward. I didn’t know anything about it until he announced it – it was a done deal by then.’
‘His idea?’
‘Yeah. I was pretty surprised, but it was really nice of him. It’s right up my street. Glad it’s only a few weeks, though. Like I said, there’s no place like home.’
Bea closed the drawer and looked round the room. ‘Anna?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Did you catch Gavin sleeping in the office?’
‘Not exactly, I just saw him stuffing his sleeping bag into the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet. He looked really startled when he saw me looking. I guess he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s having problems at home. He tried to make light of it.’
‘More than problems. Her photo’s gone from his desk. Reckon it’s all over.’
‘Aw, poor Gavin. He’s having a rough time.’
‘Yeah.’
Bea could hear Anna yawning on the other end of the phone. ‘You sound how I feel,’ she said. ‘Time to go home, hon.’
‘Yeah, you too. G’night, Bea.’
‘Night, Hermione.’
As Bea replaced the phone in its base, she thought she heard a noise from downstairs. She stood stock still, listening, but no sound came to her.
She must have imagin
ed it. The phone call with Anna had unsettled her. While she was talking she’d had a sense of things starting to fall into place – the pieces of the jigsaw fitting together. What was it? She thought back over their conversation. Anna hadn’t found the secondment, Gavin had. He’d practically sent her away. It had all happened so quickly. He’d sent her away because she knew something. She’d seen something.
Oh my God.
Instead of heading along the corridor to the stairs, she walked into Gavin’s office, her heart thudding in her chest. She flicked on the light, then tried the filing cabinet. It was locked, of course. She looked around for the key. It wasn’t anywhere obvious, but maybe it was . . .
She bent down and felt underneath his desk, smiling as her fingers found the cold, smooth metal of the key embedded in a lump of Blu-Tack. She prised it free and, her hand shaking, put the key into the lock of the cabinet. She couldn’t get it to turn, so she crouched down and tried again, and this time it worked. As she slid the bottom drawer out, her mouth was dry and a tight feeling gripped her chest. Dark quilted material ballooned out of the drawer, like it had just been waiting for the chance to expand.
‘What are you doing?’
She jumped and looked up.
Gavin was standing in the doorway. Sweat pricked out of the pores on her top lip and forehead.
‘What are you doing in my office, Bea?’
‘I lost my phone, Gavin. I figured I left it at work.’
‘In my office? In my drawers?’
‘I . . . I couldn’t find it anywhere else. So—’
‘What are you really doing here?’
The game was up. Bea had no idea what to do. He was blocking the only way out, apart from the window and a twenty-foot drop. Perhaps she could lure him into the room a little and away from the door.
‘I was looking for this,’ she said, standing up and pulling the quilted material out of the drawer. She held it up and it unfolded – a hooded jacket, not a sleeping bag after all. ‘I knew it had to be somewhere and then Anna said she’d seen you stuffing a sleeping bag away.’
Gavin made an exasperated sound. ‘Anna,’ he said. ‘You’ve been talking to Anna.’
‘You knew she’d seen you, didn’t you? That’s why you sent her away. She didn’t find that job, you did.’
‘Staff development is important to me.’
‘A few weeks,’ said Bea. ‘Long enough for things to die down – or for you to frame someone else.’
He didn’t reply.
‘So once Dean had been released you set it up for me to find the hammer in Bob’s drawer.’
He snorted. ‘You’re tired, Bea. I was wrong. This job is too much for you.’
She laid the crumpled jacket on the desk, front upwards. There were darker spots on the navy material, a spatter of them.
‘I don’t know if you slept here the night Ginny died, but you came back here, didn’t you? Did you come back here to think about what you’d done? How you’d cover it up? And then couldn’t face the thought of going home, pretending everything was normal?’
‘I slept here because things are difficult at home. It’s nothing to do with anyone, anything else.’
‘Say her name, Gavin. She had a name. The girl you killed was Ginny.’
‘I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t kill Ginny.’
‘So you won’t mind if I give this jacket to the police?’
He’d moved towards her, away from the door, but not far enough yet to let her make a break for it. ‘You mean your friend Tom – I’ve heard about you and him. Like I said, people love to talk. Even in front of the boss.’ He was standing at the other side of the desk now. He reached for the jacket and picked it up. Bea held onto the hem. ‘I’ll look after this,’ he said. ‘Get rid of it properly like I should have done in the first place. And then you’ve got nothing. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You don’t make a very good detective, Bea.’
His voice was colder, harder than she’d heard from him before. He was almost unrecognisable. Frightening. If she could only bring back the Gavin she and everyone else knew. Perhaps she could reason with him.
‘I don’t get it, Gavin. I really don’t. We all like you here. Love you, even. What the hell?’
He laughed. ‘Love? Nobody loves me. I’ve been told. Put in my place.’
‘By Steph?’
‘Yes, as she was packing her bags and walking out. At first it was “It’s not you, it’s me”, but when I reasoned with her, pleaded with her, the truth came out. She didn’t love me. Never had.’
‘I’m sorry, Gavin. Sorry it didn’t work out, but that’s no reason to do what you’ve done. Hurt people.’
‘That was an accident. I never meant it. Not to start with anyway.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘This job, it’s all I’ve got. First to come in in the morning, last to leave at night. No one knew or cared what happened in between. At the end of day, I didn’t want to go home. Home to an empty house.’
‘So?’
‘So I’d drive around town, walk around the streets. I’d follow people, girls. I didn’t do anything, was never going to, it was just sport. Something to do. It was a little bit of a thrill. The thrill of the chase. Nothing wrong with it, not really.’
‘But chasing wasn’t enough?’
‘I would never have done anything if that girl hadn’t turned round. She looked at me and I recognised her from the shop, realised she’d recognised me too. It was her fault, Bea. If she hadn’t turned round . . . ’
It was her fault.
With those words, Bea knew she could never reason with him. She would have to escape. He was still holding the jacket. Bea let go of the hem and he clutched it to him.
‘You could have stopped then,’ she said. ‘She lost her memory. You got away with it.’
‘I tried to stop. I applied for promotion – a job in Devon. Get away from here. Make a fresh start. But I got turned down. It was a sign. I was meant to stay here. I was meant to carry on. Do it properly this time. Choose a girl. Stake things out. Prepare.’
‘And you chose Ginny.’
‘She chose herself, Bea. I saw her – Little Miss Perfect – laughing at me during the spinathon. She shouldn’t have done that.’
‘I’m sure she wasn’t. No one was laughing at you. Ginny was a sweet—’
‘Ginny was like all them,’ Gavin snarled. ‘All of you. All “Yes-Gavin, No-Gavin” to my face but talking about me behind my back. Looking down on me. Mocking me. Big Gav. Do you know how much I hate those words?’
Bea gripped the edge of the desk, braced herself and tipped it towards Gavin with all her strength. As it toppled forward, she darted to the side, but Gavin’s bulk stopped the desk going completely over and one of the legs caught her and she stumbled. Gavin swore, dropped the coat and lunged at Bea. She squealed and ran the other way, but he was there and he got hold of her.
‘Gavin, stop it!’ she shouted. ‘Let me go! It’s over!’
‘It’s too late,’ he grunted. ‘It’s too late.’
21
Ant rang Saggy’s number. ‘Hey, Saggy, is Bea there?’
‘It’s really noisy. Hang on, I’ll go outside.’
There was a pause, then, ‘That’s better. What did you say, mate?’
‘I asked if Bea’s there. I need to talk to her.’
‘Nah, she’s not here.’
Someone needed to go back to Costsave, check it out. ‘Can you put me onto the manager, Big Gav? Do you know which one he is?’
‘Yeah, okay. I’ll go back in.’
Ant could hear all sorts of muffled noises, music and conversation. Eventually, Saggy came back on the phone.
‘He’s not here either. Someone said he left ages ago.’
‘He normally stays till last orders. Look, I’m going to go to Costsave. I think Bea’s there on her own. I’m worried about her. Can you come too? Bring Neville wi
th you, the deputy manager – he’s sort of stringy looking, not much hair.’
‘Oh yeah, I know. He won’t come with me, though.’
‘Put him on the phone.’
‘I’ll go back in.’
Another wait and then Ant could hear Neville’s distinctive nasal voice, ‘Hello, this is Neville Fellows speaking.’
‘Mr Fellows, it’s me, Ant. Will you meet me at Costsave, please?’
‘Anthony.’ He said the word as if it tasted bad in his mouth. ‘What on earth for?’
‘Bea’s missing. I’m worried about her. She went back to the shop to fetch her phone.’
‘I’m sure everything’s—’
‘Please. I think she might be in trouble. I’ll owe you.’
‘Very well.’
‘See you in a minute.’ Ant scrambled to his feet and sped off down the path. He grabbed his bike and leapt on.
‘Where are you going?’ Tom grunted. ‘Where’s Bea?’
‘Costsave,’ Ant shouted over his shoulder. ‘She’s at Costsave, of course. Can you drive?’
Tom shook his head.
‘No. We’ve got to take this one in anyway. Shaz’ll ring for another car.’
‘Whatever. I’ve gotta go!’
He jumped the bike off the kerb, crossed the street and headed onto the rec.
Gavin put his hands round Bea’s throat and squeezed. Instinctively she tried to tear his hands away, but he was too strong, too determined. Leaving his hands, she desperately felt around her for something to hit him with, but she only found thin air.
He was choking the life out of her. She could feel her strength sapping away. In desperation she brought her knee up as violently as she could. It caught him in exactly the right place. He grunted some more and buckled forward a little. He didn’t let go, but his grip loosened and that was enough. She punched him in the side of the neck and now she could get away. She bolted out of the room and along the corridor.
She heard him running behind her. She was nearly at the top of the stairs, when he shouted out. He wasn’t shouting at her, though, it was a different noise – pain, surprise. She looked round. Gavin was standing still, holding his chest. Then he sank to his knees.
‘Bea,’ he gasped. ‘Help me.’