by Carol Wyer
The more Abigail thought about it, the more obvious it all became. How could she have missed the signs? Rachel bringing around flowers but snooping around the house and taking snaps of the photograph in the bedroom. She must have had a smartphone with her, after all. Rachel conveniently waylaying her at the café while Toffee was being caught and killed. Abigail bet that Rachel had also fabricated the story about everyone at the boutique talking about her to unnerve her. She had to be part of Lucas’s scheme to mess up her life.
How did Rachel fit into the picture? Why was she keen to rake up the past or destroy Abby’s life? Was she in love with Lucas?
Abigail felt heat rising through her body as she became increasingly furious with the woman and with Lucas. Why couldn’t he have left her alone? She deserved that, at least. Yet here he was messing up her present life much like he’d messed up her past life. The bastard. She was going to find out where he was and she’d start by visiting Rachel Croft.
Abigail strapped her daughter into the back of the car once more. She slammed her handbag onto the passenger seat and punched out a text to Rachel on her phone. She kept it brief, saying she wanted to meet her at the George V playing fields at four o’clock. Within seconds she had a reply. Rachel was looking forward to it but she was giving a client a crystal treatment and couldn’t make it until after she had finished. She would meet Abigail at five if that were convenient. Abigail replied it was, threw the car into gear and left the surgery car park. She couldn’t wait to confront Rachel.
* * *
Her phone rang before she had driven half a mile.
‘Well, well, well,’ said a familiar computerised voice. ‘Going somewhere nice?’
‘Lucas, you total arse, why are you doing this? You and Paul promised you would let me live my life and not contact me, and now you’re being a bloody nuisance. You’ve been scaring me half to death. I’m not putting up with it any longer.’
There was a burst of laughter.
‘Poor Paul. He’s dead, you know? Aren’t you upset about that?’
‘I didn’t know. How would I know? I haven’t had any contact with him for years. Am I supposed to say I feel sorry? Because I don’t. He died a long time ago as far as I’m concerned. Why are you harassing me, Lucas?’
‘Why do think, Abigail?’
‘This is ridiculous. And you can turn off that voice-altering device you’ve been using. It isn’t frightening me. Tell me what you want and stop this stupid game.’
There was a silence at the end of the phone and then a snigger.
‘And I know Rachel is involved. How else could you have got ipecac into my drink and that photo of me you put on Facebook? I’m not stupid.’
‘Gosh! You worked that out all by yourself. How clever of you.’
‘Don’t be such a supercilious pig. I was going to confront Rachel but now I think I’ll drive straight to the police station and tell them all about you stalking me. The doctor will be reporting the whole ipecac incident too, so you are sure to receive some form of punishment. I hope it’s jail for a very long time. You can’t poison babies and get away with it.’
There was a silence during which time Abigail wondered if Lucas had hung up, then a crackle and he spoke again, ‘Okay. You win. I’ll stop all the nonsense and leave you and your family alone but we need to talk first. It’s really important.’
‘I don’t believe you. What could be so important you need to talk to me?’
‘Meet me. I promise I’ll go away afterwards. Carry on down the main road and pull over at the Meads car park and we’ll meet. Go to the area in front of Keep Fit Gym. There are fewer cars there.’
‘How do you know where I am? Are you tracking my car? You bloody are, aren’t you? Lucas, I hate you! You’ve gone too far. I’m still going to report you to the police. Afterwards, I am going to make you wish you hadn’t come back into my life.’
‘I understand. The Meads. Ten minutes.’
The call ended and Abigail, torn between going to the police and meeting with Lucas, thumped her steering wheel in frustration. She would see what explanation he offered and then report him and his sidekick, Rachel.
* * *
Abigail pulled into a space near to a blue people-carrier and waited. The car park was emptier here away from the big supermarket that dominated the far end. A Mini pulled up and a couple got out. A woman in a scruffy coat carrying several carrier bags shuffled towards the bus stop at the far end of the car park. Abigail was beginning to wonder if this was another of Lucas’s games when she spotted a dark-haired man in a loose grey jacket and blue trousers. He halted by the parade of shops and appeared to search the car park, his head turning this way and that. She couldn’t decide if it was him. He was certainly about the right age. Before she could call out to him, he ambled in her direction. It was Lucas. She felt her anger bubbling again. The lousy son-of-a-bitch had a casual air about him that made her want to scream at him.
He approached the passenger window and tapped on it, indicating she should open the door. There was no way she intended letting him into her car. Instead, she rolled down the window and leaned across to speak to him then stopped in horror. It wasn’t Lucas. How could she have believed he was? This man was older and his face was unshaven. His eyes were green, not ebony black. Before she could react, he reached into the car, grabbed her handbag and raced away. She let out a howl of annoyance and without even thinking about what she was doing, she threw open her door and shot off after the man. Her money, credit cards and mobile were in the bag. She wasn’t going to let some degenerate run off with them.
She ran quickly, made ground and was in reach of catching him when he dived into an alleyway that led to the shopping centre and tossed her bag into the air. It fell to the floor, spilling its contents. She drew to a sharp halt and knelt down, grabbing at her purse and lipstick and mobile which seemed unscathed. When she looked up, the man had vanished and she was alone in the alleyway. Her phone rang and an icy hand gripped her heart as she answered it. She held the phone to her ear and heard a faint whisper, ‘Bye, bye, Mummy.’
She turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could back to her car. As she raced, she already knew what to expect, even though a desperate hope kept her legs moving, pumping with all the energy she could muster to get back. The rear door was wide open. Her breath rose and fell in fearful gasps but it was too late. She could already see what she dreaded most. The back seat was empty. Izzy had gone.
49
It was almost midnight when Robyn telephoned Ross. He wasn’t too pleased to be woken up.
‘It’s silly o’clock,’ he grunted. ‘I hope this is important.’
‘It’s about the rabbits. The one on Christina’s bed and the others – the one at the scene of Lucas’s murder and the dog toy.’
‘Great. You’ve woken me up from a dream in which I was eating my way through a giant beefburger to talk about toy rabbits.’
Robyn ignored him. ‘I think there might be a fourth rabbit. What if Paul Matthews’ death wasn’t an accident? What if someone killed him and left a toy rabbit hidden at the scene? What do you think?’
‘You are asking me if Paul Matthews was murdered and didn’t accidentally trip up and hit his head, even though that verdict was reached by professionals. And, that an experienced crime scene officer might have missed something as obvious as a toy rabbit? I say it’s most unlikely and good night.’
‘No, listen. Don’t hang up. It’s possible. A killer could have set up a trap for Paul. It’s possible it was made to look like an accident. Think about it, Ross. Paul, Lucas and Mary all dead within a few weeks of each other. It’s odd. What if the killer left a clue at the scene that was missed?’
‘It’s a long shot, Robyn. I think you are sleep-deprived and if I had been the officer at that particular scene and you made a suggestion like that, I would be most put out. I might even report you.’
‘Yes, you are right. I couldn’t accuse a fellow officer of no
t doing a good job. Thanks, Ross. Sleep well.’
‘What, that’s it?’
‘Yes, go back to bed. I couldn’t go down official lines over this.’
‘No. You’d upset lots of people.’
‘Yes. I agree with you. You’re absolutely right. Thank you. Night.’
There was a pause during which neither hung up then Ross said, ‘I get it.’
‘Get what?’
‘You want me to comb the area to see if there’s a stupid, stuffed toy rabbit, don’t you?’
‘No. I couldn’t ask you to do that. That would be presuming too much: after all, this is my case. I’ll have to figure out another way. Or, I could do it myself. If I leave now, I could get there in a couple of hours and be back in time to interview Zoe Cooper. Mulholland needn’t know. She’s already warned me not to go off on a tangent. It’s not a problem. I’ll figure a way of looking for it myself.’
Ross sighed. ‘I give up. I’ll do it.’
‘Do what?’
‘I’ll go back through the route that Paul Matthews took that day and see if I can spot a toy rabbit but I’d like you to know that I think it’s a dumb idea and I am most unhappy about it. It’s a long route, isn’t it? I’ll have to take my walking shoes. Is this some ploy to get me to exercise and lose more weight? Did you and Jeanette come up with this idea?’
‘No. But some fresh air will put you in a good mood.’
He muttered some inaudible response.
‘So you’ll check for me?’
‘Yes, I will. Now can I get some beauty sleep before my big adventure?’
‘Night, Ross and… thanks. You’re the best.’
‘I know I am. Now go to bed and stop annoying folk.’
* * *
Robyn sat back in her chair. It was unlikely she would sleep. The case was beginning to get to her. Zoe’s name cropped up too often for her to be ignored. And, Zoe was quite possibly the last person to see Lucas Matthews alive, if the concierge who spotted them leaving the hotel was to be believed. Yet Zoe had claimed she didn’t know the man and couldn’t place when or where she had seen him. She was either an expert liar or telling the truth. Robyn would find out soon. She had arranged to talk to Zoe Cooper first thing in the morning.
50
Now
Learn to track one phone and you can track them all. It’s a piece of cake when you know how to do it. All I needed to do this was to find out the phone’s IMEI number. I discovered that by opening up Abigail’s mobile and typing ‘*#06#’. It let me install spyware which can track her movements and allow me to monitor every text or email she sends and receives.
It was easy to get hold of Abigail’s phone. She always keeps it in her handbag or on the table in the kitchen or wherever she happens to be. I’ve had numerous opportunities to slip away with it for a few seconds to get the IMEI and add the hacker code and spyware. Now I can see who she phones and I can read all text messages and even better I can delete them and call logs. Moreover, I’ve even fitted a tracker on Abigail’s posh Range Rover which I purchased from a detective agency’s website. I know where she is at any time.
At the moment, she is driving away from the doctor’s surgery in town. Oh dear, I expect the doctor has uncovered the ipecac I slipped into her drink. It was only a matter of time. I had hoped she would blame Zoe, after all, I have been setting Zoe up for all of this, but it appears dear, confused Abigail has misread the clues I have given her and is now going to meet Rachel. I hope she isn’t going to involve that new-age hippy and blab about everything that’s been happening. I wouldn’t put it past that woman to work everything out.
Abigail now knows what it’s like to be branded a liar and to lose her friends. The whole Facebook hacking scandal worked rather better than I expected. It seems not many people like show-offs, especially rude ones.
I’ve succeeded in rocking her world and she is showing the signs of strain. It’s been enjoyable watching her crumble little by little. I had a head start as she was already exhausted from looking after her baby so it hasn’t taken much to push her towards the edge – a few calls suggesting her husband was playing away shook her enough to make the rest of the plan work. However, I have not quite succeeded.
I’ve tried hard to destroy her relationship with Jackson but I can’t seem to quite crack that particular nut. I can’t understand why not. The photographs I sent Abby of Zoe having a mad, drug-induced sex session with that old fogey Gavin were very convincing. Much better than photoshopped pictures. I had considered photoshopping but you can’t beat real photographs. That’s one of the problems with the photographic industry these days. Anyone can produce a fabulous photograph using software. It takes the skill away from real photographers.
I had to watch the entire sick-making video to get the stills I needed. Old Gavin had the time of his life but poor Zoe seemed to be doing all the hard work. Never mind, she’ll have enjoyed the practice.
I managed to create two pictures from the video that were ambiguous enough to convince Abigail that Zoe was having sex with Jackson although I had to crop some of Gavin’s head. Of course, I also had the money shot with Zoe snogging Jackson. I was sure that they would be sufficient to convince Abigail her husband was being unfaithful, yet she is still with Jackson. Neither has moved out of the house. I deleted the email and the call log. I figured I could cause plenty of distrust if there was no evidence. Jackson must have thick skin or really be blinkered by love. I don’t know why it hasn’t worked. Anyway, I’m moving on now. I’ve had enough of playing about and tormenting Abby. It is time for the endgame.
51
Zoe was standing outside the station by the café, a cardboard cup of coffee in her hand. She was dressed in patterned Lycra leggings and a crop top. She spotted Robyn getting out of her car and waved.
‘We’ve got twenty minutes,’ she said. ‘The next train after that will make me late for my first class.’
‘I won’t keep you. Thanks for seeing me.’
Robyn took in the high cheekbones, large grey eyes and elfin features. She got the feeling again she was missing something vital but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She’d thought hard about how best to question Zoe and decided on a friendly approach instead of bombarding her with questions.
‘It’s about the night you went to the Sky Bar at the Aviator hotel and met up with Jackson and his friends.’
Zoe’s face dropped. ‘How much do you know about that?’
‘Maybe you should tell me. I have one reported sighting of you leaving the hotel with Lucas Matthews and another version of what happened.’
‘Lucas Matthews. That’s the man who was asking about me at Keep Fit Gym, isn’t it? I told you before, I have never heard of the man. I genuinely do not know him and I definitely did not leave the Aviator hotel with him. I may have been drunk but I would have known if that had happened.’
Robyn nodded. ‘I thought that would be the case. Your whereabouts have been confirmed for that night.’
‘So you know I spent the night with a married man,’ Zoe said, looking down at her cup.
‘You don’t need to be worried about that. I think everyone concerned will keep quiet.’
Zoe breathed a sigh of relief. ‘It’s troubled me ever since it happened. I never, ever mess about with friend’s husbands, or any husband for that matter. I usually stick to single guys. I’ve only recently begun seeing a guy at work – Adam – and I wouldn’t want him to find out I’d been putting it about. I’m hoping this relationship will work. That night was a dreadful one. I’m an absolute lightweight when it comes to alcohol and I’m normally teetotal. I only drink when there’s a celebration and then I usually stick to one glass of wine or a spritzer. I’m careful about how much alcohol I consume. Obviously, I need to be in a fit state to do the job I do. Besides, I don’t much like it. I think the cocktail I drank had far more alcohol in it than I thought. It went straight to my head and I lost all my inhibitions.’
‘
Why were you drinking that night?’
‘Oh, a friend invited me to join her at the Propaganda. She’d got a new contract and wanted to celebrate. It’s one of the liveliest bars in Fleet and has a DJ at weekends. It has nice leather sofas too. We tried a cocktail each. I had an espresso martini and she had a pornstar martini. No idea what was in them. She chose them and they tasted really good. We decided to move on because it was a Tuesday evening and they hold salsa lessons on Tuesdays at the bar. We didn’t fancy that and the place was becoming noisy, so she suggested we went off to the Aviator and the Sky Bar where they make some of the best cocktails. We phoned for a taxi and by the time it arrived, I was starting to feel quite squiffy. I got worse on the journey there. I remember giggling a lot but I can’t remember at what. I laughed so much I nearly peed myself. I think the taxi driver was glad when we got out.’
She shrugged helplessly.
‘By the time we got to the Sky Bar, things were getting hazy. I remember saying hello to the guys – Jackson, Stu and Gavin. I’ve known them all for ages. I love them to bits. I’ve trained them all at some stage. Pilots have to maintain their fitness so, around about the time they have medicals due, they usually do a crash course in fitness with me. Then, after that it gets very muddled. I can’t really tell you how I ended up with Gavin. I don’t think either of us intended it to happen. He was about to escort me downstairs and take me home, and he was so kind and gentle. I think I pushed him against a wall and kissed him and before I knew what happened, he responded and, well, you know the rest.’
Robyn nodded.
‘Wish I hadn’t. I’ve ruined a good friendship there. It’ll be so difficult to behave normally around him if I get invited to one of their barbecues or bump into them. It’s a good thing I work in London now. I might consider selling up here and rent closer to work, especially if things work out with Adam. The commute is a fag most days.’
