Definitely Dead

by Kate Bendelow

  ‘Busy,’ she said, causing him to look up, startled.

  He gave a huge, beaming grin at the sight of her. ‘Hello, you. I shouldn’t be using it while I’m at work really but I’m flat hunting. It’s really good to see you, how are things?’

  ‘I’m good, thanks. Been working and couldn’t face rattling around at home, so I decided to take you up on the offer of waiter service.’

  ‘Madam, please, take a seat,’ he said with a bow and a sweep of his arm towards a bar stool. ‘You’ll have to bear with me though, as you can see, I’m rushed off my feet.’

  He gestured towards the bar area where a young couple were sat nestled into each other, oblivious to the rest of the world, and an old bloke who was sat alone with his newspaper, nursing a pint of mild and a whisky chaser.

  Maya grinned as she climbed on the bar stool.

  ‘What’s your poison?’

  ‘Glass of Pinot, please.’

  ‘Small or large?’

  ‘Large, definitely, definitely large.’ Spence gave her a saucy wink as he fetched her drink, setting it carefully down in front of her.

  ‘Been busy then?’

  She hesitated, wondering how much to tell him about Ryan. She couldn’t divulge any details about the case, and although his name had been released in a press statement by the police, she wondered how much Spence knew about the demise of his old school friend. She wondered if he would know enough to provide any clues as to whether he was involved with the likes of Gorman and Celeste Warren.

  ‘Yeah, it’s been busy,’ she said hesitantly. She couldn’t meet his eye. ‘I’ve been working on a murder.’

  He leant towards her and lowered his voice. ‘I know you probably can’t tell me anything and I wouldn’t dream of asking anything too inappropriate, but did it involve Ryan Johnson? I saw something on the news.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I know he was a friend of yours. It must have been a shock to hear about it.’

  ‘Yeah, it was. It’s such a shame.’

  ‘I remember you saying you’d known each other for years. What kind of man was he? Tell me about him.’

  ‘I think I told you before, we’d lost contact years ago other than through Facebook. I didn’t know anything about what he was up to these days. We knocked about a bit as kids, but that was it. His family were a bit rough, so Mum didn’t encourage me to hang around too much.’

  ‘But he must have posted things on his Facebook account about what he was up to, who his friends were and stuff.’

  ‘I only really paid attention if he posted family stuff. He had a little sister. Ryan adored her; she was a cute, skinny little thing. Always had nits though, another reason Mum didn’t encourage the friendship. I caught them once and passed them on to our Tania. You’ve never known pain until you’ve had your scalp scarified with a nit comb.’

  Maya’s husky laugh echoed across the quiet pub, earning her a scowl from the old man with the newspaper. ‘Is there anything else you can think of though? Anything at all he may have posted recently that could have indicated who or what he was involved with these days. Particularly in the last few weeks.’ Maya was craning towards Spence, eager for some piece of information that would allow all the pieces to fall into place.

  ‘Woah, I thought you were a SOCO, not a detective,’ he said, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden intensity of her questions. ‘What’s with the third degree?’

  She laughed nervously. ‘Third degree?’ She shook her head. ‘Not at all. I’ve been working my arse off at his flat, that’s all. Guess I’m just overcurious as well as overtired. Sorry. I’m being tactless.’

  He held his phone towards her. ‘Feel free to look through his Facebook profile for yourself if you like. If it satisfies your curiosity. Although I’m guessing your colleagues would already have done that. For what it’s worth, all you’ll see is a load of messages of condolence and banter about MUFC.’

  Maya knew she had gone too far grilling Spence. He clearly didn’t know enough about Ryan Johnson to support her sudden death theory. It had been a mistake coming here. Not only had she wasted her time, but she had also clearly managed to alienate Spence at the same time. She regretted that, as she had found that despite her initial reservations, she had grown more than fond of him.

  ‘Hey, forget it. Let’s talk about something else other than work. I clearly need a break.’ She took a large sip of wine. ‘How’s the flat hunting going then?’

  He slipped his phone back into his pocket. ‘Not great. Let’s just say that my expectations and my budget are currently poles apart. Still, I’m an optimist, something will turn up.’ He flashed her one of his wide smiles, which she found nearly as intoxicating as the wine.

  ‘So why the sudden urge to move on? Are things not good at your sister’s?’

  ‘I just feel like I’m overstaying my welcome. Bella, my niece, has been acting up a bit. She keeps saying she can see a man watching her through the window and it’s been giving her nightmares.’

  ‘Surely that’s just a natural childhood phase?’ Maya said.

  ‘I dunno. I can’t help thinking I’ve upset her routine. She’s only little, it doesn’t take much at her age. It’s their family home after all and it can’t be easy having me dump myself on them. I just need to find something in my price range which is slightly larger than a cornflake box. Another drink?’

  Maya was surprised to find her glass empty. The first drink hadn’t touched the sides.

  ‘Yes, please. I fancy something a bit different this time. Are you any good at making cocktails?’

  He rolled his eyes playfully and gave her a grin. ‘I can see you’re going to be a high-maintenance customer. I might be able to scrape together a porn star Martini if you don’t mind substituting the passion fruit for a glacé cherry?’

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ Maya said, smiling at him.

  She settled back and watched him as he moved behind the bar. His muscles rippled beneath his shirt. The outline of the tattoo on his bicep peeked out beneath the fabric and she wondered, not for the first time, what the rest of it looked like. What the rest of him looked like underneath that shirt, too.

  She was glad she’d decided to call in, despite being no further to satisfying her curiosity about Ryan Johnson and his potential connection with the others.

  47

  Andy was at home removing some blood-soaked items which he had squirrelled away from Nowak’s house when he had attended several weeks ago. He had been instructed by Donnelly that someone would be collecting them from him later. The exhibits were what Donnelly referred to as ‘forensic insurance’ and were what he paid Andy handsomely for. That and any information he could find in relation to Operation Chrysalis so Donnelly and Nowak could stay one step ahead of the police.

  To say that Andy Carr rued the day he had started working for Donnelly was an understatement. At the time, though, Donnelly had been the answer to his financial prayers. Andy had begun collecting ex-wives and partners like most people collected Tesco Clubcard points. With three children and a lot of financially dependent, angry women on his back, Andy was desperate for the means to fund his modest wage. As much as Donnelly was a bastard and terrified Andy, he paid well for his services.

  Now however, he felt he was getting in over his head. Donnelly was putting more demands on him and Andy was increasingly nervous that it was only a matter of time before he was found out at work. It was common knowledge that DI Redford and DI Mitton had suspected for a while that someone was leaking information pertaining to Chrysalis. He was also concerned about why Donnelly wanted information on Maya – that didn’t bode well. Ideally, he would love to cut all ties with Donnelly, but he knew the man would never let that happen. At the moment he was too valuable to him and he dreaded to even think what would happen once he’d served his purpose.

  With the crime-scene samples ready to go, Andy paced the flat, nervously waiting for Donnelly to call him with more instructions. As he paced, he noticed the
light flashing on his answering machine. He played the recorded message and listened to the smoky voice of his latest conquest. That voice and accent alone was enough to make him grow hard. His ardour was soon dampened though as, eyes widened with shock, he replayed the message.

  ‘Darling, it’s me. Where are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you. I really need to see you. We need to talk. I… I know we haven’t discussed this, but I love you and want to be with you. I’ve texted Piotr and have told him it’s over. Please call me back so we can talk about us.’

  Still stunned, he replayed Markita’s message a third time. His bowels had turned to mush. Just when he thought his life couldn’t get any more complicated, it sounded like Markita was ready to come clean about their relationship.

  What had only ever meant to be a bit of fun had now started to get serious and he was well and truly trapped. Of all the foolish, risky things he had ever done – including working for Donnelly – getting involved with Piotr Nowak’s partner had to be the most stupid. And now she was telling him she loved him and had ended things with Nowak. Once he found out Markita had left him for Andy, he was a dead man. What the fuck was she thinking?

  He remembered the night their affair had started. He had arrived at her home unexpectedly, with a message from Donnelly. Initially, when she opened the door, she thought he was there to cause trouble for her. She had been drinking and was an emotional bag of nerves. He had quickly reassured her he wasn’t going to hurt her but had instructions from Donnelly. Once she calmed down, they had sat and shared several drinks together while she confessed that it had been her who had tipped the police off about the firearm at The Farmhouse.

  She had confided in Andy that, at the time, she was concerned about the effect Donnelly had been having on Nowak. She was worried he was going to get her partner in trouble. She thought that if she could get Donnelly sent away for a while, she could persuade Nowak to ease off his criminal lifestyle. Her plan had backfired, though, and now she was terrified that Donnelly would find out. Andy’s reassurances and kind words combined with a lot of alcohol had soon resulted in them being entwined in her bed. And so, the affair had begun.

  He should have ended it sooner. There had already been one near miss. Andy had been due at Markita’s one evening but Donnelly had arrived first. Markita had been white with shock as she told him that Donnelly had appeared unannounced and unwanted, clutching flowers and wine. Donnelly had said the gifts were from Nowak, and that he had come to talk to her about their relationship on his behalf.

  Donnelly had told her how much Nowak was struggling being inside because he missed her and didn’t feel like the feeling was reciprocated. He had encouraged, no, practically threatened her, to keep his best friend happy. Markita had agreed. She would have agreed to anything at that moment. She had been so desperate for him to leave before Andy arrived, knowing there would be murder if the two of them were caught together.

  Whilst Andy didn’t doubt for one second that the riskiness of their relationship added to the eroticism, he should have learnt from that night and ended it. Now, in the cold light of day he realised how irresponsible he had been. And not only that, his feelings for Markita were purely sexual. She was high maintenance and had made it quite clear she had a penchant for money, something he had a serious lack of.

  Andy was sensible enough to know that if he tried to reject Markita at this point, she would become the epitome of a woman scorned. The thought of her in a rage was nearly as terrifying as the thought of Donnelly baying for his blood. That psycho wouldn’t just kill him, he would torture him and enjoy every second.

  No, the best way he could control her was to keep her sweet. Then in time, he hoped she would tire of the relationship and find herself someone younger and richer. Maybe he could even persuade her to get back with Nowak. Frantically, he rang her straight back, but her phone tripped straight through to voicemail. Slumping down on his sofa, he cradled his head in his hands and let out a low guttural moan. For the first time in his adult life, he felt like crying.

  48

  Maya watched Spence through lidded eyes. He had just called last orders and was clearing the tables. Since she had arrived, the pub had only welcomed another four customers. This had given her and Spence time to sit and chat and she had thoroughly enjoyed his company.

  ‘I’ll finish this and head home,’ she called to him as he collected glasses and torn beer mats from the table nearest to her. Her voice had started to slur, which was hardly surprising as she’d had several drinks and nothing more substantial to eat than three packets of prawn cocktail crisps.

  ‘You’ll stay there, love. Wait until I’ve locked up and I’ll walk you home.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m perfectly capable of walking myself home, thank you very much.’ She realised she sounded like Dominique when she put her posh work voice on, and laughed to herself.

  ‘I don’t doubt it, but in your line of work, you of all people should know it would be common sense for me to accompany you. Just to be on the safe side.’

  ‘Are you insinuating I’m drunk,’ Maya said with mock outrage.

  ‘Yep, pissed as a fart.’ He laughed as she threw a glacé cherry at him.

  Maya weaved somewhat unsteadily to the ladies’ toilet as Spence wiped the bar down. The old man with the newspaper was the last to leave, his bulbous nose shining like a beacon as it guided him through the pub door, which Spence locked and bolted behind him. Maya gathered her bag and followed Spence through to the back of the pub, watching as he set the alarm panel, they left through the barrel-store exit.

  They picked their way through the side streets which led to Maya’s apartment. Maya asked Spence about his time working and living in Spain and he regaled her with tales of the cocktails he used to experiment with – the nice ones and the ones that went terribly wrong.

  ‘Who knew Baileys and tomato juice would make such a terrible combination?’ He shrugged.

  ‘Erm, anyone with half a brain.’ Maya laughed as she elbowed him playfully before linking his arm as they walked.

  ‘I’m glad I popped in. I’ve had a really nice evening.’ She smiled.

  ‘Me too, although I’m going to have to completely restock the cellar tomorrow. Give me advanced warning next time and I’ll let the brewery know we need to double our order,’ Spence said with a grin.

  ‘Cheeky git,’ Maya retorted with a slur as they arrived outside her apartment.

  They headed to the lift and rode up to Maya’s floor in silence. She wondered whether she should invite him in. Their previous ease was replaced with a weighted embarrassment. The fact they were alone in such a confined space felt loaded with meaning. After what felt like an eternity, the lift jolted to a halt and Spence followed Maya out into the corridor.

  She swayed slightly as she wafted her hand at the door. ‘This is me. Well, it’s not me, obviously it’s a door, but you know what I mean.’ She let out a throaty guffaw, swaying against the wall as she laughed drunkenly to herself.

  There was a split second of awkwardness and before either of them knew what was happening, her arms were round his neck and he was pressing her against the door as they shared an urgent, deep kiss. She could feel his taut body as he pressed against her and the feel of him smiling as their lips ground together intensified her need for him. She dropped an arm from around his neck and frantically reached in her bag for her keys.

  49

  Markita was sat on the sofa clutching onto her mobile phone like it was a lifeline. Andy had left her a frantic voicemail message urging her to say nothing to anyone about their relationship yet and to reconsider ending things with Nowak. He had said he would try to come and see her as soon as he could so they could talk. She hadn’t been able to get hold of him since as he wasn’t replying to any of her calls or texts.

  Well, whatever he had to say it was too late. She had been unable to keep up with the pretence of still loving Piotr a moment longer. She just didn’t want to be w
ith him, and the lying was killing her. She had decided to end it once and for all. She knew she had taken the coward’s way out by ending things via a text message, but she was too scared of him to do it face to face.

  She was falling in love with Andy and despite the fact this new relationship should never have happened, she couldn’t deny her feelings a moment longer. Despite not having been together long, she knew they could make a go of things. She just hoped he felt the same. The message Andy left her had been devastating. She could hear the panic in his voice. It had not been the reaction she had expected. She was now deeply concerned that her feelings for Andy weren’t reciprocated.

  She didn’t know what she would do if he told her she should keep up the façade with Nowak, or worse. If he ended things with her, it would break her heart. She stared nervously at the phone as if it was a hand grenade she had just pulled the pin from.

  Suddenly there was a frantic knocking on the door.

  ‘Andy?’ she gasped to herself as she rushed to open it.

  Her eager anticipation was replaced with dismay. Donnelly was stood on her doorstep. Angrily, he barged past her, uninvited.

  ‘No flowers and wine this time, Aiden?’ she asked sardonically.

  She sank back down onto her sofa and lit a cigarette, conscious of the shaking in her hands as he stood surveying her, a murderous frown on his face. He looked angrier and more threatening than she had ever seen him before.

  ‘You look like shit,’ he snarled as he sniffed and pinched at his nose.

  ‘Ah, Aiden, ever the charmer,’ she said, sinking back into the cushions. She was dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a vest top and for once her face was clear of her usual heavily contoured make-up. Her hair extensions hung un-styled around her shoulders like a shabby cloak. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.