The Secret Admirer: An absolutely gripping crime thriller (Detective Natalie Ward Book 6)

by Carol Wyer

  Professor Younger’s house, like many others on St Peter’s Road, showed no signs of life. Curtains remained pulled to and a pint of milk, a bottle of orange juice and a loaf of bread stood in an open plastic box on the front step. Murray glanced down at the provisions. ‘I didn’t know anyone made milk and juice deliveries these days.’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘None where we live. It’s a quick milk trip to the supermarket if we run out.’

  Murray attempted to rouse the family and they waited a while for someone to answer the door. It was opened at last by Anika, in her nightclothes, her hair uncombed.

  ‘We’d like to ask you and your husband some further questions, please,’ Murray told her.

  Anika gave them both a searching look before granting them entry, and this time they found themselves not in the conservatory but in a kitchen out of a 1960s home catalogue, with antique cherry wood cabinets, yellow Formica tops over wooden base units, a free-standing larder and a retro fridge-freezer in bright yellow; it recaptured the days when bold colours were de rigueur. The effect was brought into line with a rug on the floor incorporating the same garish yellow but with the addition of clashing lime green, turquoise and pink – shades of which were also picked up in the trays, cooking utensils and pots that adorned the surfaces. Anika squatted onto one of the four chrome-legged chairs with white and turquoise padded seats next to a white table with matching legs, but didn’t invite either officer to sit down.

  ‘We’d like to talk to your husband too,’ said Murray.

  ‘He was asleep when I got up. Ask me what you need to first and then I’ll wake him.’

  ‘We’d like to know your whereabouts on Friday evening.’

  ‘Do you have a specific time in mind?’

  ‘Between seven and seven thirty.’

  ‘I was at work.’

  ‘Can anyone confirm that for you?’

  She gave him a cool look and replied, ‘About eighty students. I was lecturing at the time.’

  ‘In Murton-on-the-Water?’

  ‘Yes, officer. In Murton-on-the-Water, at the college where I work.’

  ‘Do you often teach in the evening?’

  ‘Only on Fridays during term time. I hold two lectures on a Friday evening.’

  ‘What time did you leave?’

  ‘The usual – immediately after my second lecture finished around eight. I came straight home. The babysitter can confirm that.’

  ‘Your husband wasn’t at home at the time?’

  ‘He wasn’t.’

  ‘Have you any idea where he was?’

  ‘Work, I assume.’

  ‘But you don’t know for sure.’

  She stared at him unblinking, like a lioness studying its prey, before saying, ‘No. I don’t know for certain. Shall I tell him you wish to speak to him now?’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’

  She left the room and Lucy whispered, ‘She’s a cool character. Bit standoffish. Not much emotion at all.’

  ‘She has a fairly cast-iron alibi for her whereabouts though.’

  ‘She does. Maybe she made sure she had. You can’t convict a person who has that number of witnesses. She could still be involved and hired somebody to do the dirty work.’

  Lucy glanced about the room and puzzled over why it felt staged then it struck her: nothing was out of place and there was nothing to suggest a family lived here – no photos, no personalised mugs, no drawings, no children’s clutter. She didn’t get the chance to point it out to Murray because James appeared.

  ‘Morning, sir. Apologies for the early visit but we have to follow up from yesterday.’

  Anika’s long, thin face came back into view behind her husband, and she took up her position again on the chair she’d vacated minutes earlier.

  James scratched the back of his neck and responded with a weary, ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘No, sorry. We need you to come down to the station this time.’

  Anika’s voice was sharp. ‘Can’t he answer any questions you have here?’

  ‘Yes, I have nothing to hide from my wife,’ said James.

  ‘It’s concerning your whereabouts on Friday evening. Can you tell us your movements?’

  ‘I attended a departmental meeting at five. That went on for over an hour, after which time I joined my colleagues and the chancellor for drinks and nibbles in the old hall. I was there until about seven thirty and then I returned to my office to finish marking some papers. I got home sometime between half past ten and eleven.’ He looked keenly at Anika but she ignored him.

  ‘Mrs Younger, can you confirm that?’ asked Lucy.

  Anika shook her head. ‘I was asleep. I don’t know what time he came in.’

  ‘Surely, you must have heard me come to bed,’ James said, his look imploring her to speak up on his behalf.

  ‘I’d taken a sleeping pill,’ she replied.

  ‘Those bloody pills! I thought you’d stopped taking them.’

  ‘I needed them.’

  He raised his palms then let his hands drop with a slap against his thighs. ‘What’s the point? You never listen.’ He turned his attention back to Murray and said smoothly, ‘I’m sure my colleagues can vouch for me being at the meeting and the event. After that, there’s nobody who can substantiate my claims, so you’ll have to take my word.’

  ‘I see. We shall have to confirm you were at the meeting and drinks as you claim but we’d also like to talk to you about Gemma again. Some new information has come to light.’

  ‘What new information?’ Anika looked sharply at her husband but he ignored her.

  ‘That’s what we’d like to discuss with your husband… preferably at the station. If you wouldn’t mind getting dressed, sir, we’ll continue this conversation in Samford.’

  James complied, leaving his wife alone with Lucy and Murray.

  ‘Do you have to take him away?’ asked Anika.

  ‘We need to substantiate his alibi for Friday evening and question him further, Mrs Younger. Once he’s helped us with our enquiries, he’ll be free to go.’

  Anika’s face gave nothing away but Lucy noticed her hands were trembling. Her stony-faced exterior was a mask to hide her true emotions.

  ‘Is there anything you wish to tell us before we leave?’ Lucy asked.

  Anika opened her mouth and shut it before shaking her head again.

  ‘Is he often out late?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘His job keeps him out late some nights.’ Anika stood up and walked towards the corner of the room, where she turned on the kettle and kept her face hidden from them.

  James was back quickly, in jeans and a blue top. His face was unshaven and his hair unruly. He ran a hand through it to tidy it, walked towards his wife and pecked her on the cheek. ‘I won’t be long.’

  She didn’t reply and Lucy noticed she stiffened as he placed a hand on her shoulder and said in a low voice, ‘I’ve not done anything wrong.’

  Hattie’s room was empty and there was nothing in it to hint at where she might have disappeared to. She’d taken her mobile and laptop with her, as well as her toothbrush and toothpaste, suggesting she’d intended staying somewhere other than her room for at least a night. With the door locked once more and the university accommodation officer departed, Natalie spoke again to Fran, Lennox and Ryan, who were gathered in the sitting room.

  ‘She said nothing to me about going away,’ said Lennox. He rubbed fingers over the screen of his mobile that had been returned to him as if it were a long-lost toy.

  Ryan, sprawled on the settee, shook his head. ‘Nor me.’

  Fran was sat cross-legged on the settee, a scowl on her face. ‘She definitely mentioned a schoolfriend to me when I saw her in the kitchen late Saturday morning. She told me she’d been out to the shops for a mooch about and was at a loose end. She was still cut up about what had happened to Gemma and was thinking of spending a couple of nights at a friend’s house rather than stay here. I assumed she’d decided to go because
I didn’t see her after that.’

  ‘Did she mention this person by name?’

  ‘No.’ Fran looked hollow-eyed and, without her make-up, pale-faced and much younger than her actual age. For a brief moment Natalie didn’t see Fran. It was Leigh sat on the settee, watching a soap opera. Her heart lurched and dropped in her chest and she had to bite back the stinging tears that wanted to fall. She pretended to have something in her eye and rubbed away the damp. Deep breath.

  She cleared her throat and asked, ‘Did she mention a place, a town name?’

  ‘Sorry, she didn’t and I didn’t ask her. She often disappears for a night or two. She knows lots of people – alternative, like her. She’s got a friend in Cornwall who she spent nearly all of the summer with. It might be her she visited.’ She shrugged an apology.

  ‘When did you last see Hattie?’ She let her stare bounce over Lennox and Ryan.

  Lennox was the first to respond. ‘Not since Friday night.’

  ‘What about you, Ryan?’

  ‘Last spoke to her Friday morning when we talked about the takeaway. I didn’t see her at all yesterday – not before I went to the gym or afterwards, and I was in all afternoon.’

  ‘Did you come back here after your workout?’

  ‘Uh-huh. I spent most of the afternoon working. I dozed off for a couple of hours after that. I went out at about nine.’

  ‘Why are you trying to find her?’ asked Fran.

  ‘We need to talk to her, that’s all.’

  Ryan cocked his head to one side and lifted a finger in a knowing fashion, waving it at Natalie. ‘No, it’s more than that. You think Hattie had something to do with the acid attack on Gemma, don’t you?’

  Natalie didn’t wish to engage in speculative talk with the young man with the intense glare and expressionless face. ‘If you see or hear from Hattie, let me know immediately. In the meantime, I’d like you all to remain in Samford and not leave the area without letting us know.’

  Ryan sat back against the cushions. ‘You know, Hattie didn’t like Gemma as much as she made out she did.’

  ‘Ryan, shut up!’ Fran was indignant but Lennox spoke up too.

  ‘No. He’s right. She didn’t like Sasha much either and she bitched about Gemma behind her back.’

  ‘Fran, did Hattie complain about Gemma?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘Maybe she had a few moments when she whinged about Gemma but it wasn’t any more serious than my Facebook conversation with Rhiannon was.’ She glared at Natalie, who didn’t waver.

  ‘Did Gemma ever mention Professor Younger to you?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘Sure. He’s the hottest lecturer on campus. His name cropped up regularly. We’ve all had a crush on him at one time or another. Gemma did too,’ said Fran.

  ‘Did you overhear any of these conversations, Ryan?’ Natalie asked, watching the boy shift on his cushion. He didn’t reply immediately. A muscle in his jaw flexed several times before he spoke.

  ‘No. I didn’t hear any of that, but I think she and the prof actually had something going on.’

  ‘An affair?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Fran shook her head and gave a derisory snort. ‘Idiot! She wasn’t having an affair with him.’

  Ryan’s voice became icy. ‘I say she was.’

  ‘What makes you think she was?’ Natalie asked Ryan.

  Fran folded her arms and shook her head in dismay. ‘Ignore him. Ryan’s got Gemma issues. He got green-eyed every time he saw Gemma with another bloke. He’s making this up. Professor Younger wouldn’t screw a student… any student.’

  Ryan didn’t respond. Natalie forced him into giving an answer. ‘Is that right, Ryan? You are only saying this because you were jealous of her lecturer? I haven’t got time to be jerked about. Tell me the truth.’

  ‘I know they were seeing each other.’

  ‘You fuckwit! They weren’t. Prof Younger is straight up,’ said Fran.

  ‘He definitely screws students he fancies,’ muttered Lennox. ‘That sort of thing goes on all the time. There are certain lecturers who’ll change students’ grades for favours.’

  Fran opened her mouth to reply but Natalie was sick of the bickering. Her heart was heavy after the unexpected reminder of Leigh and her patience with the trio in front of her had waned. ‘Pack it in! Do I need to remind you what this is about? One of your friends, your housemate, is dead. We’re looking into a murder and we need to establish what happened to her. So, can you all cut out the crap and the childish asides, and act in a more adult manner! Now, have any of you got anything to say that might help us track down the person who assaulted her?’

  Fran flushed deeply and lowered her head. Lennox stared intently at his blank mobile screen. The South African steepled his fingertips, pressed them momentarily to his lips and then spoke. ‘A couple of weekends ago, I saw Professor Younger and Gemma together outside Chancer’s. They were standing close to the fenced-off area in the car park. He was holding both her hands in his and talking to her quietly, and at one point he reached out and stroked her cheek.’

  ‘Did they kiss?’

  ‘Not that I saw but they seemed very intimate.’

  ‘And this was a fortnight ago?’

  ‘Yes. Saturday night.’

  ‘Did you challenge either of them about it?’

  ‘I spoke to Gemma, who said I was mistaken and they were only talking about university work. She’d been upset about a bad grade he’d given her. He’d been comforting her. Sounded total bullshit to me.’ Ryan’s admission not only put James and maybe even James’s wife, Anika, in the frame, but also served to point the finger of blame further at himself. A bitter ex-lover might be capable of such a heinous act.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this when I first asked you about Gemma being involved with anyone else?’

  ‘You already thought I was obsessed with her. If I’d told you that at the time, you’d have been even more convinced I was the one who attacked her. I can see how it might go down – you thinking I was so angry and resentful about her relationship with the professor that I tried to hurt her.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. She convinced me I was being pig-headed and getting worked up over nothing. I let it go. Now, I only want whoever killed her to be found.’

  Ryan’s reasoning was logical and his sincerity apparently genuine; however, he’d remain firmly on her radar even though it struck her as strange that the professor would discuss the subject of a poor grade outside a bar rather than during a seminar or in his office. Moreover, according to Lucy and Murray, James had told them he’d never visited the bar. Fran and Lennox had fallen silent, their gazes averted.

  ‘Is there anything else any of you want to tell me? Because now is a good time.’

  No one had anything new to add and she left the housemates under the impression that in spite of what good had been said about the dead girl, Gemma had still managed to raise hackles and fan flames of envy. No sooner had she left the house than she received a call from Monmouthshire Police, who’d had no luck at the commune in Wales. Hattie hadn’t been back there. Was the young woman staying with a friend as Fran had suggested, or had something happened to her? Natalie wasn’t wasting any more time. She’d get one of the team to talk to Hattie’s ex-husband, Ocean Stone, and see if he could think of anyone Hattie might be staying with. If they had no joy, they’d alert Missing Persons. She hoped they’d be able to locate her before it was too late. She couldn’t bear it if the woman was harmed or killed because of Natalie’s tardiness in working out her whereabouts. She already carried enough guilt without adding to it. The image of Leigh and Zoe flashed before her eyes, arms outstretched, holding hands in death, as they had in life. She couldn’t fail again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sunday, 18 November – Mid-Morning

  Professor James Younger adopted a practised pose, hands relaxed in his lap and one leg thrown casually over the other; the controlled image was
betrayed by the mismatched socks on display in the gap between his trendy jeans and the top of his sturdy walking boots.

  Natalie took a moment to study the man before speaking. Judging by the way he held his chin up and looked her in the eye, he certainly didn’t lack confidence. ‘I’d like to talk to you about your relationship with Gemma Barnes.’ She passed across a copy of the note from the secret admirer. ‘Do you recognise this?’

  His brow lowered as he read through it, then he pushed it back with a shake of his head. ‘I’ve not seen this before and I certainly didn’t send it to her, if that is what you want to know, nor do I know anything about it.’

  ‘You deny writing such a letter?’

  ‘Absolutely. Before we go any further, I have a confession to make,’ he said smoothly. ‘I might have misled your officers yesterday when I failed to mention the fact that Douglas McCrabe transferred from my seminar last month. I was somewhat distracted and obviously upset about what had happened to Gemma, so when DS Anderson asked me about Douglas, I neglected to add that he’d changed seminars.’ He nodded in Murray’s direction and added, ‘I apologise for that.’

  Natalie wasn’t impressed by this admission. ‘You failed to disclose relevant information.’

  ‘And I apologise for that omission. It wasn’t deliberate.’

  ‘I see. And had we not spoken to you today, would you have contacted us and told us this?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘Most certainly.’ He gave a slight nod and a half-smile to indicate his sincerity.

  ‘Since you’re less distracted, maybe now you could tell us about your relationship with Gemma.’

  The smile was replaced by a downturned mouth and a heavy sigh. ‘Poor Gemma. She was, as I told your officers yesterday, a very bright young woman and had a gift for languages. She was keen to learn and that enthusiasm extended beyond the confines of the syllabus. On the occasions we spoke, it was invariably an animated discussion about German literature, culture or history. It is refreshing when one meets a student who is intellectually capable of conversing with their tutor.’