‘Sorry... sorry.’ He was blushing now. This was ridiculous, he thought. He was a married father of twelve year old twins and a Detective Inspector. He needed to start acting like it.
‘Come and sit down.’ She took his hand and led him into the office. There was a long black desk under the window which he assumed must overlook the car park, although he could only see darkness. ‘I saw you arrive,’ she said nodding at a CCTV monitor. ‘You looked serious, so I’ll be serious.’ She pointed towards a wheeled chair and sat beside him in front of a computer screen displaying a complicated spreadsheet. She pushed a tray of assorted sandwiches, chicken wings, sausage rolls and quiche segments towards him. ‘Take whatever you want,’ she said, smiling brightly.
He sat and swivelled his chair a little away from her. He didn’t want her to see that his body was starting to react to her flirtation. He took a deep breath and tried to focus.
‘I need to ask you about Abigail Slater.’ He spoke slowly, not looking at her. He was straying from police procedure. He shouldn’t be alone in this small, hot room with her. He should have waited until tomorrow and brought one of the female DCs with him.
‘Aren’t you supposed to watch me while you interrogate me? Something to do with body language and eye direction when I answer, isn’t it? So you’ll know if I’m lying, like.’ She cleared her throat and replaced the smile with a theatrically serious expression.
‘Abigail Slater,’ he persevered. ‘How well did you know her? Did she confide in you?’
‘Abi wasn’t a close friend. She was more of a customer I suppose, but a regular. I miss her.’
‘What do you mean, “customer.” She had a flat in town.’
‘You’re really quite naive, aren’t you, Nick?’ said Maisie. ‘She brought men here and I gave her an hourly rate. She said her flatmate didn’t approve of her friends so she needed somewhere to be with them. I charged her for the power she used and the laundry and a little bit for my trouble. She paid cash.’
‘Did she always use the same property?’
‘No. She had to take what I had available. She used to come and tell me about it afterwards. Sometimes gave them grades.’ The memory made Maisie smile again, but this time it was tinged with sadness.
‘Do you have records of who she brought here?’
‘Of course not. I don’t even have records of when she came. She would ring, I would tell her which property was available and then I’d go and turn the heating on, if it was needed, and put out laundry, like I did when you arrived. Once or twice, when she’d gone, I’d go to change the sheets and find they hadn’t been used. She must have fancied it al fresco those times, but she still paid the full amount. That hadn’t happened for a while, mind. It’s been too cold.’ She waited for his next question and the silence lengthened. ‘Look, Nick... or maybe I should say DI Morgan since this is work. You don’t look well. I’ll still be here tomorrow. We should do this in the morning.’ She got up and stood by the door making no effort to give him space as he tried to pass her without touching. ‘Or you could stay with me,’ she whispered, her voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat again.
He stopped and turned towards her slowly, giving himself time to think. His fingertips gently lifted her chin and their lips met in a long kiss, soft at first but harder as she opened her mouth and pressed her tongue into his. He was shocked by the charge of longing he felt when her painted nails reached inside his jacket and started to pull at his shirt.
‘Stop. Stop.’ He gently pushed her away. ‘Not here.’ He pointed to the window.
Maisie’s eyes glittered with excitement. ‘Move your car behind reception where it can’t be seen. I’ll open the back door and wait for you there.’
He hurried out, his short, shallow breaths misting in the February night air. A thin layer of frost was developing on the windscreen and as he scraped at it, he felt the cold embrace of common sense. This was madness. This would make him as guilty as Sam. He should get in his car and drive home to his waiting wife and family. Facing Maisie for the few remaining days they were here would be embarrassing, but surely it was preferable to the risk of not meeting her expectations. He was tired and she was confident and obviously, experienced. She must be at least fifteen years younger than him. What if he disappointed her?
He got in his car, started the engine and put the blowers on full blast to demist the windscreen. Selecting first gear, he drove to the car park exit and stopped. He sensed the triumph Graham Fletcher must have felt when he seduced his wife. His outrage was reignited. He felt the ghost of Maisie’s kiss on his lips and he thought about all the things he wanted to do to her. His breathing was faster now, the anticipation, unbearable. He turned the car and made for the narrow entrance to the staff car park where light and trouble beckoned him through the door.
Chapter 45
Tuesday 18th February
When Samantha got up next morning she prepared packed lunches for the twins before waking them up for breakfast. Last night they had been disappointed when Nick wasn’t there to hear about their first day at school.
‘Did Dad come home at all?’ asked Victoria.
‘Sometimes he comes home very late and leaves before I wake up,’ she replied. ‘I slept so well last night that I really don’t know.’ They both accepted her answer.
‘Is the car fixed?’
Samantha had lied about the need to take a taxi to school yesterday and almost let herself down by saying there was nothing wrong with her car. ‘Yes dear, It’s sorted. I’ll drive you both to school today.’
The twins were subdued during the journey and walked together through the school gates without looking back. Samantha dialled her mother’s mobile number and was relieved when she responded.
‘He didn’t come home last night.’ Dorothy did not reply and Samantha glanced at her phone screen to see if she was still connected. ‘Did you hear me? He didn’t come home last night.’
‘Well that’s very tiresome of him, particularly when you’ll be moving into Cliffside this week. Have you had an argument?’
‘I got home late from the dinner and I was pretty drunk. He was cross.’
Dorothy snorted. ‘He has to realise that you have friends here and that many of them will want to link up with you, now that you’re back. You’re going to have your own life again and he’ll have to learn to share you.’
Samantha was puzzled by the comment, but her mother was continuing. ‘He’ll be tied up with his little detecting. I had a couple of officers here yesterday asking about Steven. Maybe Plod’s involved in that and didn’t want to talk to you about it.’
‘He hardly ever talks to me about his work. And what did they want to know about Steven?’
‘They said his name has come up in an investigation and they needed to interview him.’
‘What investigation?’
‘They wouldn’t say. They wheedled the caravan address out of me. He may be there... who knows?’
‘Did you and Steven have an argument? Is that why he left?’
‘No, dear. Now why don’t you come over for a cup of coffee so we can talk about you getting back into the business?’
Nick left Maisie before it got light. When he was clearing the thick ice from his car he felt his body tremble from spent excitement and lack of sleep. First things first, he thought. DS Dave Spence would instantly notice that he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday so he drove to the 24-hour hypermarket on the outskirts of town and bought a new one. He took the battery powered razor he kept in his grab bag to the mall’s toilets and did his best to shave in the blue light before changing his shirt and setting off for work.
Morgan was aware of the obvious horizontal creases across his shirt front so when Dave Spence arrived, he told him that the launderette at the park estate was closed and he had run out of shirts. Spence’s look told him that he would rather die than come to work in an un-ironed shirt.
The first text arrived at nine forty five. Mo
rgan’s personal phone was in the pocket of the jacket he’d slung across the back of his chair. He looked at his watch. Over twenty seven hours since he had walked out of the park home leaving Sam on the sofa. She had been patient. He’d expected the barrage of messages to start when he hadn’t gone home last night.
Spence was going through the task list so that they could update the decision log for Operation Siren. He stopped when he heard the vibration. ‘Do you need to get that?’ he asked.
Morgan shook his head. ‘It’s my own phone – it’ll be something or nothing.’
‘If my wife knew I treated her incoming texts like that, I’d lose my privileges.’
Morgan’s ignored him. ‘Where were we?’ he asked.
‘We were talking about Club Europium and deciding whether to go back during opening hours to speak to the punters. Like the other clubs, some of the staff remember Abi, but nobody remembered her being involved in anything specific. Problem is, they only open Thursday to Sunday, so we’ve got a bit of a wait.’
‘Okay.’ Morgan drummed his pen on the desk for a few beats before continuing. ‘And I’m guessing the younger team members are more likely to get information from the clientele. What do you think?’
Spence’s expression was rueful. ‘I think even I’m too old to make much headway at Europium. How about sending the DCs with a few of the newer uniform bods – out of uniform, of course. I can go too, to keep a watching brief.’
‘Sounds good. Can you fix it up?’
Spence was about to reply when the phone vibrated again. ‘Sir... I really think...’
Morgan sighed and reached to retrieve the phone. The first text was brief.
Come home. The children are asking where you are.
So that was how she was going to play it. She was going to use the children.
The second was longer.
Im sorry I was drunk but nothing happened. Absolutely NOTHING happened.
The missing apostrophe annoyed him almost as much as the lie.
‘Can you excuse me for a moment, Dave. You’re right – I do have to deal with this now.’
Spence nodded and left the office, closing the door behind him. Morgan typed quickly.
I don’t know what’s worse. Being married to a liar or a whore.
He thought about it before replacing “whore” with “cheat.” He reread it, and felt the grip of Maisie’s strong thighs; heard her urgent cries of encouragement. He deleted the whole message and put the phone back in his pocket.
Ninety minutes passed before the phone vibrated again. He was concentrating on trying to find any overlooked links between Abigail Slater and Wesley Crook and it startled him back into the reality of his own problems.
Come home 4 lunch kids at school need to talk.
NOTHING HAPPENED.
Spence bounded into his office without knocking.
‘The locals have found Cooper at the caravan. He’s pissed. They’re going to put him in a cell for his own protection and are asking if we’re going to send a car for him.’
Morgan looked at his watch. ‘It’s not even midday yet. Why is he pissed already?’
‘Guilty conscience, I expect. I’d turn to drink if I’d killed two people.’
‘You’re definitely linking the Slater and Crook deaths, then?’
Spence nodded. ‘It’s the cardboard signs that do it for me. Too much of a coincidence.’
‘Abi Slater only had the remnants of a piece of cardboard. I’m not sure I’m completely there with a link yet. Anyway, Cooper had disappeared before Crook was offed.’ He looked back at his watch. ‘I need to go out for a little while. Can you organise transport for Cooper, please.’
‘I expect you’ll be glad to move into Cliffside and get back to normal,’ said Spence, his eyes lingering on the creased shirt.
‘I’m not convinced that life at Cliffside will ever be what you’d call normal,’ said Morgan, before heading out.
Chapter 46
Tuesday 18th February
Driving past the reception building at the estate Morgan felt a longing for Maisie before steeling himself for the confrontation he was expecting. There was a car coming towards him on the narrow road and he gave it all his attention so they would pass safely. When he glanced over his shoulder, there was a man at the reception desk. Maisie must be having some time off or was behind the scenes.
Sam’s car was carelessly parked and he struggled to get into the second space. When he got out, the cold water which had been sitting on the leaves of the evergreen bushes soaked his trousers.
Opening the door he could smell cigarette smoke. Sam was sitting on the sofa with a mug of tea by her side.
‘I didn’t think you were coming.’
‘I’m in the middle of a number of cases. It’s difficult to get away.’
‘Is that your way of telling me I’ll have to deal with the move into Cliffside on my own?’
‘Probably.’ He touched the side of the kettle, added more water, and flicked the switch.
‘Where did you go last night? The children wanted to tell you about their day.’ Her voice was low.
‘It’s not about where I was last night, Sam, it’s about where you were the night before. More to the point, it’s about who you were with the night before. I’ve spent time with that man. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to recognise his aftershave all over you? And that’s before we even get to the fact that you weren’t wearing your tights when you eventually came home.’
‘Ever the detective.’
He reached across the breakfast bar and picked up his keys. ‘I thought you wanted to talk, not bitch. I’ve got work to do.’
The kettle boiled and she got up. ‘I’ll make it. Tea or coffee?’
‘Coffee, please.’
‘You look rough. That shirt doesn’t even fit you.’ He didn’t answer. She spooned the instant coffee into two mugs. ‘At least when we get into Cliffside we can have proper coffee again.’
‘Why did you go to that dinner? I asked you not to.’
‘Mum said it was important for the business. You know I’ve felt guilty for not being here to help out, especially since Dad died. Steven isn’t up to the marketing and PR stuff and...’
‘We’ve found him.’
His interruption irritated her. ‘What do you mean, “We’ve found him?” Is he okay?’
‘He’s being brought back here. I don’t know if he’s under arrest or not.’
‘Under arrest for what?’
‘I can’t tell you. Not yet, anyway.’
She smacked the mug down beside where he was standing, spilling some of the contents, before returning to the sofa and her cigarette.
‘You’re not supposed to smoke in here,’ he said. ‘There are enough signs.’
‘I went to the dinner. I ate the dinner. Graham wasn’t even close by. Then mother appeared out of nowhere. After the speeches, Graham invited us to his suite and we had a few drinks. When I came out of the loo, mum had gone. I went to fetch my bag and coat and he asked me to stay for a bit. Nothing happened. We chatted about school and old times. He sat beside me and put his arm round me, but that’s all.’
‘I saw the look on his face when he told me about the dinner. It wasn’t the look of a man planning a chat.’
‘I don’t know what he was planning, but what he got was a chat.’
‘You reeked of his aftershave when you got back.’
‘He saw me out to the taxi and kissed me goodnight.’ She was staring at him, daring him not to believe her. ‘And, let’s face it Nick, even if it had gone further, you’re hardly in any position to judge.’
He felt his face and neck flush and the deafening noise of his heart, pounding in his ears. ‘Meaning?’
‘I haven’t forgotten DC Alison Goddard.’
He exhaled, slowly. ‘That was fourteen years ago. And it was one night. You agreed at counselling that you wouldn’t keep bringing it up.’
She nodd
ed, ‘And I’ve kept to that. I’m only bringing it up now because I was late back from a dinner and you leapt straight to the assumption I had sex with an old boyfriend. You’re not being fair.’
‘Not being fair! You agree to go to a do, where an ex who has had a hard-on for you for the last twenty five years, will be. You choose not to tell me about it so I have to hear it from him.’ His voice was getting louder. ‘And then... then... you come home stinking of his aftershave and missing half your underwear and it’s me who’s not being fair. How do you even begin to justify that?’
‘I wasn’t missing my underwear!’ She was outraged and shouting, ‘I laddered my tights so I took them off and put them in my handbag.’ She sighed and continued in a softer tone, enunciating each word, ‘Nothing. Happened.’
He took a few sips of the coffee then put the mug down. He wanted a cup of real coffee made from ground beans. This tasted thin and bitter.
‘If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask him?’
‘Ask him?’ he was shouting now. ‘Ask a solicitor whose sole purpose in life is to present a case which shows his client in the best possible light, whether it be truth or fiction? Why would I ever believe a word that comes out of that man’s mouth?’
‘I don’t know how I can convince you, Nick. Yes, I got very drunk and yes, I probably did have the opportunity to have sex with Graham Fletcher, but I didn’t. Nothing happened.’ She grabbed his hand. ‘I value what we have here and I’m sorry that you think I would risk it for a quick tumble with him.’ She got up, picked up her mug and took it to the sink. ‘I’m going to the house this afternoon to do some more cleaning then I need to get some shopping. Will you come home tonight?’
‘How did the kids get on at school?’ he asked.
‘There were ups and downs, but mostly ups. Vicky’s skirt is longer than anyone else’s and she wants me to take the hem up this weekend. Alex wants to try out for the school football team and has joined the chess club. You should ask them.’
Make You Sorry Page 14
