I Know the Truth

by M A Comley

  “That’s strange. He was loitering in the agency today.” Lucy pointed to the man.

  Trisha observed him and shrugged. “He’s probably a local then. Did he buy a holiday?”

  “Nope, only eyed a few brochures. Appeared to skedaddle once Shirley pounced on him, not literally.”

  “Crikey, I think I’d do a runner, too, if your boss ever did that to me. I can’t stand being pressured into buying something, especially something as expensive as a holiday.”

  They drove past the man who was fiddling around with his mobile. Lucy glanced back in the wing mirror and saw the man turn their way once they’d passed by. He appeared to be studying them, enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.

  “Did you hear me?” Trisha asked, placing a hand on her thigh.

  “Sorry, what was that?”

  “What’s got into you?”

  “There’s something about him which is freaking me out.”

  “Like what?”

  Lucy ran a hand over her long hair, tugging it into a ponytail at her neck. “I don’t know. Ignore me, I’m probably being foolish. What were you saying?”

  “It was a lifetime ago, I’ve forgotten now. Oh no, I remember, I asked if you were seeing Matthew tonight.”

  “For now, no, although he did mention he’d ring me later. Damn, I forgot to show you this.” She switched on the interior light and jangled the bracelet on her wrist in front of Trisha. “Another gift from the man himself.”

  “Bloody hell, that’s beautiful. He’s definitely got the hots for you, girlie.”

  “He told me he loved me over the phone today.”

  “Wow, that’s huge! And what did you say in return?”

  “I told him I loved him, too. I can’t say I’m looking forward to Saturday, though, meeting his folks.”

  “Why? What harm can they do if you’ve both professed your love for each other?”

  “Perhaps the accident has knocked my confidence a little. Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Possibly. Hey, if you’re not seeing Matthew tonight, why don’t we stop off at the local and grab a meal there? On me, of course.”

  “Sounds like a great idea. We could make a night of it and leave the car there and walk home.”

  “Stagger home, you mean. I’m just in the mood to go on a bender.”

  “I’ll let you do it, I need to take it easy. My head still isn’t as it should be. A nice meal and a few drinks are just what the doctor ordered. Providing you let me pay.”

  “We’ll see. Right, that’s sorted. I fancy one of their huge plates of fish and chips. My tyrant of a boss forced me to work through my lunch hour today.”

  “Why? As punishment for you taking the day off to look after me yesterday?”

  “He said it wasn’t and that he wouldn’t be as petty as that. I know differently. Bugger him, I couldn’t give a toss what he thinks, my mate needed me, I couldn’t let you down.”

  “I appreciate that, love, but if I thought it was going to cause a rift between you both…”

  “Nothing of the sort. Forget I mentioned it. It’s a bloke thing. Most men hate the thought of any woman getting the upper hand on them, you know that.”

  “Only too well,” Lucy mumbled, her thoughts going back to her previous debilitating relationship.

  Only too well. He hated me having an opinion, and doing anything off my own bat was totally out of the question. I’m well rid of him. It’s been over five years now, I shouldn’t be thinking about what he did or said to get me through the day. So why am I? Why, after all these years, is this man haunting my dreams again? Is it the thought of being in love again? Is that why my experience with Patrick has resurfaced? Or is the accident to blame? Either way, I need to rid myself of the images of Patrick, once and for all, but how?

  Trisha tapped her on the leg once they’d parked up. “Are you sure you’re okay? You keep drifting off. If you’d rather go home and chillax, that’s fine with me.”

  “No. I’d like to spend the evening with you, chatting and forcing food and drink down my throat.”

  “Whoa! I’m glad you’re not in the restaurant trade, they’d come down on you hard if you ever tried to sell an evening package in that way.”

  They laughed and left the car. The public bar was heaving at The Red Rooster.

  Trisha pulled a face and pointed to a door off to the left. “Let’s go in the Lounge Bar instead.”

  The room was a lot quieter, and they found a table in the bay window overlooking the kids’ play area at the rear of the property which was lit up and had a haunting feel about it.

  “What are you having? I’ll place the food order at the same time.”

  “I fancy a lasagne and chips. But I’m paying.” Lucy took a twenty out of her purse and slid it across the table.

  Trisha tutted and accepted the money. “It’ll go towards it.”

  “No, I insist.” She took another tenner from her purse and forced Trisha to take it.

  Trisha put in the order at the bar. She waited patiently for the barmaid, who was servicing both bars, to make an appearance.

  During Trisha’s absence, Lucy eyed the play area outside. She drifted off, her imagination working overtime as certain shapes from the trees above formed creepy shadows over the equipment. She would have loved it out there at this time of night as a child, or would she? An unseasonable wind suddenly got up, and a branch slashed at the window, scaring the shit out of her. She yelped and placed a hand over her heart. Trisha rushed over to see if she was okay.

  “I’m fine. Silly me. Sorry to cause you concern.”

  “Don’t be. What’s freaking you out so much, hon?”

  “I wish I knew. I’ve never been this petrified by the wind getting up before. My heart is racing.”

  “Do you want to go home? I haven’t placed the order yet.”

  “No. Just ignore me. I’ll be fine in a second. Quick, the barmaid has appeared.”

  Trisha rushed back to the bar. Lucy glanced sideways, cautiously eyeing the play area again just in time to see the shadow of a man disappear into the darkness. She blinked and rubbed at her eyes then peered in that direction again. There was nothing there, not this time. The question was, was there someone there before or was it a case of her imagination getting the better of her?

  She shifted uncomfortably and rotated her head from side to side in an attempt to rid herself of the tension which had crept up on her during their brief stay at the pub.

  Her eyes continued to be drawn to the spot where she thought she’d seen the man during the course of the evening, even though she was annoyed at herself for letting a few shadows spook her half to death.

  8

  The rest of the week passed by without further incident, thankfully, which only made Lucy doubt herself even more. Saturday morning arrived, and work was heaving. Shirley spent most of the morning sporting a huge smile and even made the decision to remain open for the rest of the day. Lucy was disappointed about letting her down. If she hadn’t already made plans to go car hunting with Matthew, she would have remained there to give Shirley a helping hand.

  Shirley had chastised her for thinking that way and virtually pushed her out of the door at one o’clock on the dot. Matthew was there to meet her. They set off and did the rounds of a few dealerships. She left it up to Matthew to choose a suitable car for her. To Lucy, a car was just an object to get one from A to B. She didn’t go in for all this alloy wheels and how many revs the engine was capable of, although she did ask Matthew to make sure a make and model was efficient to run on her meagre wages.

  He told her to leave it with him. They took several cars for test drives and finally settled on a Vauxhall Corsa in a stunning royal blue. The car was around three years old. The ticket on the screen was an eye-watering six grand, but Matthew assured her he wouldn’t pay anything near as much as that. He negotiated hard. She started off the meeting embarrassed the way he went in with his lowest offer. Th
e salesman smiled and came back with a counter offer a few times. He didn’t appear to be offended at all, in fact, there was a lot of laughter filling the tiny office by the time they finally shook hands on a deal.

  Matthew reached over for a kiss before he signed the sales document. He’d managed to get the salesman down to five grand, due to the high mileage on the clock. She gulped. How the hell she was supposed to find that sort of money was totally beyond her. Matthew assured her on the journey back to Trisha’s that there was no need for her to pay him back, not for a while. The salesman even promised to throw in a full tank of petrol for when she picked it up during the week.

  They were celebrating the deal over a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Matthew. I insist we put a payment scheme in place soon, okay?”

  “Whatever, it’s a drop in the ocean. Why are you so worried? You’re not about to do a runner on me, are you?”

  She slipped onto his lap and ran a hand through his short hair. “Not likely, you’re stuck with me for good.”

  Their kiss was interrupted by Lucy’s mobile vibrating across the table. She ignored it for a few seconds until Matthew drew back and insisted she answer it, if only to give them some peace.

  Shirley’s number filled the tiny screen. “Shirley, hi, what’s up?”

  Heavy breathing filtered down the line, and then a woman’s scream.

  Matthew snatched the phone out of her hand. “Who is this?”

  The line went dead.

  Matthew swiftly pushed Lucy off his lap. “We must get to her. Do you think she’s at work?”

  Lucy glanced at the time on the phone. It was five-fifteen. “She usually locks up around five, but who knows, maybe she’d already left if it went quiet this afternoon. Should we ring the police?”

  “No, let’s get over there and see for ourselves first.”

  They slipped on their shoes and jackets, and Matthew sped into town, weaving his way expertly through the heaving Saturday afternoon traffic. He screeched to a halt on the double yellow lines outside the agency.

  “Shit, the door’s open.” Lucy reached for the handle.

  Matthew stopped her. “No. You stay here. I’ll take a look. If I don’t reappear within five minutes, call nine-nine-nine, got that?”

  “Yes. Oh God, please be careful.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” were Matthew’s final words as he left the vehicle.

  She watched him enter the building, unaware she’d stopped breathing until her lungs seared with heat. She inhaled a restorative breath which left her gasping. Please let her be okay, let them both come out of there in one piece.

  Matthew reappeared. He shook his head. She didn’t know what that shake of the head implied and was eager to find out.

  Remaining in the car, she wound down the window to ask him. “Is she okay?”

  He withdrew his phone from his jacket pocket and punched in a number. “Police, please…yes, at Shirley’s Travel on the high street. Yes, there’s a dead body.”

  “No!” Lucy screamed.

  She opened the door to get out of the car, but Matthew held out an arm to prevent her from going into the building.

  “Don’t, love. It’s not pretty.”

  He ended the call and hugged her. She rested her head against his chest, her breath coming in short sharp gasps as the thought of Shirley lying there rampaged through her mind.

  “There, there, let it out. There was nothing either of us could have done.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. Tyres squealed, and everything happened with the speed of a Charlie Chaplin movie, the type she used to watch with her grandfather as a child. Oh, to have his comforting arms around her now.

  “I’m DI Terry Warren. Did you report the incident?”

  Matthew nodded. “Yes, we were at home and received a call from Shirley—sorry, she’s the victim. Well, Lucy did. Sorry, I’m not making much sense, all this has hit us pretty damn hard.”

  “I can imagine. If you could stick to the facts, sir,” the policeman said, his tone as stern as a headmaster’s.

  Matthew apologised again and then informed the inspector about the events that had led to them being at the scene.

  “I see. Okay, we’re going to need to take a statement from you both. Was it only you who entered the building, sir?”

  “Yes, I instructed Lucy to remain here, outside.”

  “Why don’t you both get back in the vehicle? I’ll need to wait for SOCO to arrive before I can get in there.”

  “No, you can’t do that. What if she’s not dead, just unconscious and needs assistance?” Lucy blurted out.

  “That’s not the case, love. There’s blood everywhere,” Matthew assured her.

  “But it doesn’t mean to say she’s dead.”

  Matthew sighed. “Shirley’s throat has been cut, Lucy. Take my word for it, she couldn’t survive that.”

  Lucy buried her head in her hands and sobbed. “No…no…no. Not Shirley…she can’t be dead. She can’t be.”

  “As I said, it would be better if you both got back in the vehicle. I’ll take a peek inside, if it’ll put your mind at ease,” DI Warren suggested reluctantly.

  “Thank you, it would.”

  Matthew hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “She’s gone, love.”

  The inspector emerged seconds later and shook his head, just like Matthew had moments earlier. “I’m sorry, she’s gone.”

  Lucy let out a whimpering howl, and her knees buckled. Matthew held her firm and steered her back to the car. He opened the door and eased her into the passenger seat. He got in beside her and gathered her in his arms. His hand smoothed her hair flat against her head.

  “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

  “Why? Who would do such a violent thing to one of the nicest people to ever walk this planet?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure the police will do their best to find out.”

  “Why? Sorry to repeat myself, but none of this makes sense.” She gasped, pulled back and stared at him. “You don’t think this has to do with the accident I had the other day, do you?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Shit, I’m talking bollocks. My head is all over the place. I can’t think straight.” But the words were out there now, and she couldn’t stop herself from dwelling on them. What if there is a connection? My God, how can this be happening? Shirley didn’t deserve to die. “Do you think it was a robbery? I knew I shouldn’t have left her; it was too busy for one person to cope with alone.”

  “I’m glad you were with me and not here. I don’t know, perhaps. The police will figure it out, all in good time.”

  “Should I tell the inspector about the accident? It might help the investigation. Shit! I’ve been watching too many cop shows on TV. None of this is going to bring Shirley back. Why her?”

  “I don’t see the point in mentioning it. Saying that, it can’t hurt. There would be a record of it down at the station anyway, wouldn’t there? I’m so sorry, love. No one deserves to go out like that.”

  The tears fell again, and she shook her head. “I have to tell her husband, Keith.”

  “I wouldn’t. I’d leave it to the inspector to do that. Poor bloke. Have they been married long?”

  “Over twenty years, they’re devoted to each other.”

  He hugged her again and kissed her forehead. “When you find the love of your life, it’s hard to deal with something of this magnitude.”

  More vehicles arrived, and white-suited men and women entered the property. Lucy and Matthew watched the inspector and another man get suited up and join the SOCO team inside. He emerged moments later and tapped on the passenger window.

  “I don’t suppose you have a phone number for her husband, do you, Miss?”

  He must have seen the wedding ring on Shirley’s finger. “Not his mobile number, but I have their home number.”

  “That’ll do. I’ll need to inform h
im before the journalists get a chance to air the news; the pack is already gathering.” He motioned across the road with his head.

  Lucy flicked through her contacts and located Shirley’s home number. The inspector punched it into his phone as she read it out to him. Then he stepped away from the car to talk to Keith.

  “Damn, he won’t tell him over the phone, will he?”

  “I doubt it, he’ll probably make arrangements to go and see him. He’s coming back.”

  “Okay, I’m going over there to break the news in person now. Can we make arrangements to get a statement from you both?”

  “Can’t we do it here and now?” Lucy asked.

  “We could, if that’s what you want?”

  Lucy glanced at Matthew. He nodded. “Yes, we’d both prefer to get it out of the way. I need to ask if this was a robbery or not.”

  The inspector held her gaze and shrugged. “My honest opinion would be no. Burglars rarely kill their victims.”

  Lucy remained in a daze on the drive back to Trisha’s. She was at home when Lucy let them into the house.

  Trisha could tell instantly there was something wrong, and a frown crinkled her brow. “Jesus, what’s wrong? You both look terrible.”

  “I need a stiff drink.” Lucy slid into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Coming up. Matthew?”

  “Please, it was terrible.” He dropped into the seat next to Lucy. He covered her hand with his.

  Trisha reached to the back of the lower shelf of the larder unit and withdrew a bottle of brandy she always kept there for medicinal purposes during the winter months. She poured three glasses and handed them around, then sank into the chair opposite Lucy. “Don’t keep me in the dark, I’m going out of my mind with worry. Are either of you hurt?”

  “No. It’s Shirley…” Lucy took a huge gulp of the soothing drink.

  “What about Shirley? Has she had an accident of sorts?” Trisha urged, her brow pinched into a tight crease.