by Fiona Leitch
‘Guv,’ said the officer again, urgently. Withers nodded.
‘All right, I’m coming. Ms Parker, remember what I said. It’s not your job anymore.’
I followed the plain-clothes officer back out to the enquiries office. He turned to me.
‘Sergeant Adams said you were back,’ he said, smiling. ‘I remember your dad. When I was a rookie I went through a bit of a bad patch and he stopped me quitting. I’ll always be grateful to him.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, but I was still thinking, Big shoes to fill… And that, in a nutshell, was why I’d joined the Met and not the Devon and Cornwall Constabulary. It’s not easy, being the daughter of someone so highly respected.
‘Hang on!’
I turned around. Withers stood in the doorway back into the station. ‘Wait there, I’ve got something for you.’
A shamefaced Tony shuffled out. He looked thoroughly worn down. I glanced at Withers in surprise.
‘Mr Bloom at the hotel dropped all charges. Apparently, Mr Penhaligon, your friends are very good at damage control.’ He looked at me. ‘I’m assuming that was you?’
I tried to look innocent but it probably just came off as smug. ‘I couldn’t possibly say…’
‘Take him straight home,’ he said. ‘I’ll be seeing you again soon, Tony.’
I tried to get some sense out of Tony on the drive back to his house, but he seemed exhausted and barely spoke. I pulled up outside the grey stone cottage and turned to him.
‘Thanks, Jodie,’ he said, fumbling with the seatbelt in his hurry to get out of the Gimpmobile. I put a restraining hand on his arm.
‘Oh no you don’t!’ I said. ‘I think you owe me an explanation, don’t you? What the hell was all that about this morning?’
He sighed. ‘Please, I just want to lie down.’
‘Tough. Spill.’
He looked at me and his eyes filled with tears, but he swiped them away angrily.
‘You’d better come inside.’
The house was a mess. It looked like it had been torn apart, a bit like the wedding cake. Tony saw my questioning face and looked away.
‘I’ll make some tea,’ he muttered. I stopped him.
‘No, I’ll make some tea. You go and freshen yourself up, wash your face at least. And then you and I are going to have a chat.’
I put the kettle on and searched the kitchen for tea bags and mugs. I heard Tony banging around upstairs, and the water had just come to the boil when he came in, wearing a clean T-shirt and looking a bit more awake.
I fished the tea bags out of the hot water and dumped them in the sink. Tony passed me the milk and gave me a small smile.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘What for? For only having full-fat milk or for all the nonsense you put us through this morning? Callum was proper worried about you. We all were.’
‘I know,’ he said, picking up a mug and walking through to the living room. I followed. ‘I am sorry.’
‘So what happened?’ I sat down opposite him and watched him blow on the hot tea.
‘I came back from my mum and dad’s this morning. I wanted to get changed before I went to help you lot at the hotel.’ He stared into the brew. ‘There was a letter waiting by the front door, for Cheryl. It was a big envelope and it had “Do not bend” on it, so I wondered what it was.’
‘Did you open it?’
‘Of course I did. I thought it might have something to do with what we were talking about last night – about Cheryl’s escape fund, or whatever it was. I thought it might help me work out where she is.’ His hand shook as he leaned over to put the untouched drink on the coffee table.
‘And did it? What was it?’
He stared at me and he looked sick to his stomach. ‘Oh Jodie, I never knew her at all…’
‘What do you mean? For God’s sake, tell me what it was!’
A sharp rap on the door made us both jump. Tony got up and looked out the window then swore.
‘Not them again! Why won’t they just leave me alone?’
‘Mr Penhaligon!’ Withers was outside, with two police cars parked in front of the house. ‘Can you open the door, please, sir?’
‘What is he playing at?’ I asked angrily. They’d only just let Tony go; this was looking like police harassment.
Tony looked around furtively and I could see what he was thinking. I stood in his way.
‘No, you don’t,’ I said firmly. ‘If you do a runner they’ll just take it as a sign of guilt. And you’re not guilty, are you, Tony?’
‘Of course I’m not!’ he cried, looking at me pleadingly. ‘You know I’m not! I’d never hurt anyone!’
I looked into his eyes and nodded. I believed him. He was still the old Tony I’d always known. I trusted him like I would’ve trusted a brother.
‘Sit down then and I’ll let them in,’ I said. He sat down and I knew he had complete faith in me to get him out of this. I just hoped it wasn’t misplaced.
‘Ms Parker,’ said DCI Withers wearily. ‘I knew you’d be here.’
I nodded towards the Gimpmobile, which was parked outside and was hardly inconspicuous. ‘Great work, detective,’ I said sarcastically. ‘If you’re expecting to come in I do hope you’ve got a warrant. Otherwise it’s starting to look like you’re harassing my client.’
He looked surprised. ‘Client? I thought you were a cook. Don’t tell me you offer legal advice now?’
‘No,’ I said. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to say until the words were out of my mouth. ‘I’m investigating the murder of Melissa Penhaligon and the disappearance of Cheryl Laity. I want to find the truth, even if you don’t.’
Withers looked at me in amazement for a second, then burst out laughing. Honestly, you’d have thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. I glared at him angrily, although I was really annoyed at myself for saying it. Because now I bloody well had to prove Tony’s innocence, and while I didn’t doubt him, I doubted myself.
I glared at him some more. ‘All right, it’s not that funny,’ I muttered, and he shook his head weakly, still laughing.
‘Come on, it is quite funny,’ he said. ‘Playing private detective. Who do you think you are? Miss Marple? No, no, wait … Magnum P.I.!’ He laughed even harder. ‘You just need the moustache.’ He peered hard at my face. ‘Hang on…’
I looked down – I’m at that age where any waxing going on is more likely to be on my upper lip than on my bikini line – and went to shut the door but Withers stopped laughing and stuck out his foot.
He held out a piece of paper. ‘We have a search warrant, so unless you want to be charged with obstruction, you need to get out of the way.’ He leaned closer. ‘That’s the second time today I’ve had to threaten you with that. Let’s not make it three times, eh?’
I stood back and opened the door to let him in. He was followed by three other officers, including the one I’d spoken to at the station, who looked slightly embarrassed.
‘Hello again,’ he said, then shut up as Withers glared at him.
‘What’s going on?’ said Tony, looking bewildered. I sat down next to him and held his hand.
‘It’s all right. They’re just going to search the house,’ I said. He looked alarmed.
‘But … they’re convinced I hurt Mel. They’ll fit me up…’
‘No, they won’t,’ I said. Whatever Withers was, he didn’t strike me as a bent cop.
We watched as the police officers thoroughly searched the house. Tony was wound up so tightly he began to make me feel tense, too. One of the officers stood in the corner of the room while the others went through each room with a fine-tooth comb. I didn’t know what they were hoping to find and I suspected they didn’t know, either.
‘What we were talking about earlier…’ I spoke quietly to Tony, not wanting the officer in the room to overhear, but luckily they’d lost interest in us and were staring vacantly out of the window. ‘What was in that envelope?’
> Tony swallowed hard. ‘Photos. Photos of Cheryl. She cheated on me, Jodie. She cheated on me and someone sent me the proof.’
‘You mean these photographs, Tony?’ Withers stood in the doorway of the kitchen, holding up a see-through evidence bag. Inside I could see an A4 size photograph. It had been ripped up, but Withers had put the pieces together and even from here it was easy to make out Cheryl’s face. Her face wasn’t the only part of her body in the picture, though.
‘She was a good-looking woman, your Cheryl, wasn’t she?’ Withers said carelessly, turning the photo around and having a good look at it. ‘Very nice. Very … photogenic.’ I could feel Tony tensing with anger next to me and I put my hand on his leg, giving it a warning squeeze: keep calm, don’t let him wind you up. Withers took out another plastic bag from behind the first one. ‘I particularly like this one. The lighting’s quite artistic. You can see everything so clearly… Everything except who she’s with.’
Tony leapt to his feet and was in front of Withers before I could stop him. I jumped up and grabbed his arms so he couldn’t do anything stupid.
Withers didn’t even flinch. ‘This is what I think happened. I think Mel discovered that Cheryl was cheating on you and that’s why she tried to stop the wedding.’
‘I told you what Mel said,’ I interrupted him. ‘She thought she was after his money.’
Withers looked at me, waiting for me to stop talking, then carried on. ‘I think Mel confronted Cheryl and told her she knew. What happened next? Maybe Cheryl decided to come clean, or maybe she thought it was best to just do a runner before you found out. Whatever, when you discovered that she was cheating on you, you saw red. You decided to teach her a lesson—’
‘Woah, woah, woah!’ I said, dropping Tony’s arms and stepping forward. I was furious, and I was so close to Withers I could see the hairs growing out of his nose. ‘Have you found Cheryl’s body? No? Then you don’t know what happened to her. At this point she’s still a missing person. You cannot treat this like a double murder.’
Withers held his hands up in mock apology, forcing me to step back. ‘Okay, okay, my mistake. I just got carried away. That’s easy to do when your blood’s up, isn’t it, Tony? So let’s say Mel scared Cheryl off and you blamed her for it. You went to have a go at her and she told you what she suspected, but that made you even more angry because, deep down, you knew a woman like Cheryl would never go for a man like you.’
I could see Tony’s hands curling into fists. I put myself between him and the DCI, a gentle but restraining hand on his chest. ‘Ignore him, he’s trying to wind you up so you lose your temper.’
Withers raised his eyebrows as I turned to scowl at him. He continued, ‘You were furious with Mel because you blamed her for Cheryl leaving you in the lurch, jilting you at the altar in front of all your friends and family, so you killed her. And then when you got home you found these photographs, and you realised you’d been a bloody idiot because Mel had been right. How am I doing? Am I right? Or did you already have these photos? Did you kill Cheryl when you found out and then you had to kill Mel because she knew about it, and if she’d told everybody it would have been obvious you killed Cheryl?’
Tony opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
‘What was that?’ asked Withers, exaggeratedly turning his ear towards Tony.
‘I didn’t—’ His voice was husky, his throat dry. He swallowed. ‘I didn’t kill Mel.’
‘Then can you explain to me why your DNA was found on the victim’s body? And we have witnesses who say you left the bar that night, who saw you going into the hotel gardens. We have witnesses who heard a man and a woman arguing loudly.’
‘Did they identify the voices as Mel and Tony?’ I said. Withers didn’t answer, so I guessed it was a no. ‘If not, that doesn’t mean anything. And there must be a simple explanation for the DNA.’ I turned to Tony. Please have a simple explanation…
‘I did go out into the garden to see Mel,’ he said. My stomach went cold. ‘It was just after Jodie left…’
Withers looked at me, questioningly.
‘I left the bar at about 9.30pm. I went upstairs to see if Cheryl was okay after the fight with Mel.’
‘And was she?’
‘Yes.’ I didn’t mention the fact it had looked like she was packing; I didn’t know if it would help exonerate or convict Tony.
‘I saw Mel out in the garden, walking her dog,’ said Tony. ‘I felt bad because I did have a bit of a go at her when Jodie took her outside, after the fight. Although we split up, I didn’t bear her any ill will.’ Withers looked sceptical. ‘I didn’t, I swear. I did at first, but after I met Cheryl I forgave her. I went outside because I just wanted us to be friends again. I was happy and I wanted Mel to be happy too.’ Tony looked tearful again and I believed him. I knew Mel had broken his heart but Cheryl had apparently mended it.
‘How long were you talking for?’
‘I don’t know, about half an hour?’ Tony looked bewildered as one of the other officers made notes.
‘And how did your DNA end up on her?’ asked Withers.
‘We talked for a bit, we made up, and then we had a hug,’ said Tony. ‘The only time I laid hands on her was to give her a cuddle.’
Withers stared at him. ‘You cuddled the woman who had just tried to throttle your bride-to-be and ruin your wedding?’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Anthony Penhaligon…’ he began.
‘Oh, not again!’ I said angrily.
‘…I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Melissa Penhaligon. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be used in evidence against you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Tony, in a small defeated voice. I watched as the police led him out of the house, then sat down and wondered what the hell was going on.
Chapter Thirteen
‘So now he’s back at the nick,’ I said. I looked at the shocked faces in front of me.
I had returned home after checking over Tony’s house to make sure the police had left everything as it should be, and had then called a council of war: Tony’s mum and dad, Brenda and Malcolm, Callum and Debbie (the children were with Callum’s parents), and, of course, my own mum, as she still hadn’t gone back to her house and I had the feeling I wouldn’t be getting rid of her any time soon. Not that I minded. Daisy had taken Germaine for a walk; they were already firm friends.
‘I don’t understand. They arrested him, and then they let him go, and then they arrested him again?’ Brenda looked tearful, obviously out of her mind with worry over her son. I realised that it didn’t matter how old your kids got, if they were in trouble, they were still your babies. ‘That’s just cruel, it’s like they’re playing cat and mouse with him.’
‘I know it feels like that, but they’re not,’ I said. ‘I reckon they took his DNA yesterday at the hotel, and when they got the result back today they applied for a search warrant. I think after the trouble this morning, Withers was probably hoping the warrant would come through while they still had him in custody. He was probably hoping to get the search done, and then if anything came up they could arrest him for Mel’s murder while he was still at the station. But because Mr Bloom refused to press charges, they had to let him go and wait for the warrant to come through.’
‘What were they looking for?’ asked Callum. ‘The murder weapon?’
‘More than likely,’ I said. ‘I think a lot of the damage would have been done when Mel hit the floor, and the bench on the way down, but there was another wound on her forehead which looked like someone had bashed her with something. There was a lot of blood…’ Brenda went white and I remembered that she’d been one of the first people on the scene. She’d always got on well with her ex-daughter-in-law, and to see her lifeless body up close must’ve been a terrible shock. ‘Sorry, Brenda. So yeah, I think maybe the murderer used a heavy object to finish her off. But they didn’t find it at Tony’s house. Of course. Because he didn’t do
it.’
‘Too right he didn’t,’ said Malcolm, and everyone murmured their agreement.
‘I think they were looking for clues to Cheryl’s disappearance as well,’ I said. ‘Although they haven’t found a body, they seem pretty certain she’s dead.’
There was another general murmur of agreement.
‘But she might not be,’ pointed out Debbie. ‘She might have just left him. If she was having an affair, she might have decided to go off with the other man.’
I thought about it. ‘Maybe. But why would she leave her car? And her suitcase? Tony said they were going on their honeymoon straight from the reception. I wonder…’
‘Wonder what?’ said Mum.
‘I wonder what’s in that suitcase.’ The others looked puzzled. ‘Think about it. Maybe she’s trying to make it look like she disappeared, faked her own death or something—’
‘What, Cheryl?’ Mum looked sceptical. ‘I don’t know as she’d be clever enough to do that.’
‘What if she had help from her lover?’ I said. ‘Or she might have just left her stuff there to throw Tony off the scent for a bit and give her time to get away. Which is why I wonder what’s in the suitcase. Where were they going on honeymoon?’ I asked Brenda.
‘Corfu,’ she said. ‘Two weeks in Messonghi, half board. Lovely hotel.’
‘So her passport, if she’s been murdered, should be in the suitcase, or in her hotel room…’ I mused. ‘If it’s not, then she must’ve taken it with her. Which would suggest she planned her disappearance.’
‘Then I reckon we need to go and break into her car,’ said Debbie, standing up and cracking her knuckles. Callum groaned. ‘What? The kids are fine being spoilt by Nana and Grandad for a couple more hours. It’ll be fun. I’m a mum; the most excitement I normally get is wondering which one of the kids will throw up first on a long journey.’
‘George,’ said Callum absentmindedly. ‘It’s always George. But you can’t break into her car—’
