Lipstick and Lies

by Viggiano, Debbie

  ‘Unfortunately,’ I sighed, ‘it is possible that shit might soon be hitting the fan.’

  ‘Specify shit,’ said Morag, flipping the kettle lid down and flicking the switch.

  And so, over coffee, I brought her up to date. From Stevie’s dazed phone call begging for help, to ringing Charlotte, to visiting the police station and being grilled by PCs Thomson and Smith, to updating Jamie with a doctored version of events.

  ‘And later, when Jamie and I were talking about his work, he happened to mention Selina hasn’t been herself. Apparently she’s been very distracted and snappy. Ethan said it was pressure of work. However, Jamie noted Selina’s concentration was shot to pieces when a neighbour,’ I rolled my eyes meaningfully, ‘rang Selina on her mobile. Jamie said that from her reaction you’d have thought something truly awful had happened.’

  ‘And did Jamie ask Selina what had made her react that way?’ Morag prompted.

  ‘Yes. Apparently the neighbour wanted Selina to look in on him and pick up a delivery. Do you think that’s a truthful explanation?’ I fiddled nervously with my cup.

  ‘Christ,’ said Morag nearly spilling her coffee all over the table. ‘Of course not! That interfering busybody clearly rang her to give her a Neighbourhood Watch update. No doubt Selina is now in possession of my wigs. Forensics might be analysing them this very moment. Looking for our DNA. And – oh my God!’ Morag clutched her mouth. ‘Selina probably now has my car registration number!’ She stood up and began pacing around the kitchen. ‘This is catastrophic news Cass. Selina used to be a police officer. She’s going to have her own connections, isn’t she! Why, she’s probably already fed my car registration details into a police computer somewhere. She could turn up on my doorstep any minute now! Demand to know what the hell I was doing snooping around her apartment block! What if she goes to the police herself?’

  ‘Um, yes, the thought had occurred to me.’ I took another sip of coffee. ‘That’s why it m-i-g-h-t not be a good idea to have another baby just yet.’

  Morag narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m not sitting here waiting for the Old Bill to come knocking.’

  ‘But maybe they won’t. Well, hopefully not anyway. Selina had plenty of time to get the police involved following that pensioner’s tittle-tattle. In which case, how come the coppers didn’t ask about my movements yesterday? Or whether I knew somebody called Morag Harding? They had plenty of opportunity to ask those questions while Charlotte and I were at the police station. As you say, Selina has connections. But so does Jamie. He’s been in touch with his old Superintendent whose influence will speed things up. Charlotte texted me late last night to say the police have checked out Stevie’s house and car. If Selina is so innocent in all this, why hasn’t she been pulling her own strings to have our guts for garters?’

  ‘True,’ Morag considered. ‘Do you still have a key to Stevie’s house?’

  ‘Yep.’ I held up my key ring and gave it a little shake. ‘Ever since I had to let in decorators after Charlotte took a spray can to Stevie’s walls and generally wrecked the place.’

  ‘Ah yes. Wasn’t that revenge for Stevie dumping Charlotte for a well preserved marine biologist?’

  ‘That’s right.’ I drained my coffee.

  ‘You know,’ Morag frowned, ‘one way or another, your ex has led Charlotte a merry dance.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And she’s forgiven him time and time again.’

  ‘She has,’ I agreed.

  ‘You don’t think that this time Stevie pushed Charlotte too far. And she knows more than she’s letting on?’

  I looked at Morag and let out a sigh. ‘I agree she could have a motive – and the police made inference of such when they were talking to us. But then they also implied the same with me. They asked me outright if I had an axe to grind with Stevie because of the unpleasant text messages he supposedly sent me. So,’ I shook my head, ‘no. No I don’t think Charlotte knows where Stevie is or has had anything to do with his disappearance. She was absolutely distraught when I told her he’d rung me begging for help.’

  ‘She could be a good actress,’ Morag didn’t look convinced.

  ‘Yes,’ I acknowledged, ‘she could. The police also made sarky comments about that too. Said it was amazing how often relatives of missing people went on national television appealing for witnesses, sobbing their hearts out, when all the time they’d hidden Uncle Tom’s body under the patio.’

  Morag shuddered. ‘Those two plods sound like a right ball of fun.’

  ‘Believe me,’ I pushed my coffee cup away, ‘they weren’t.

  ‘Well I suggest,’ said Morag draining her own coffee, ‘that if the police have finished doing their stuff, we nip over to Stevie’s place and do ours. Let’s see if we can’t perhaps find something of Selina’s to link her in some way to Stevie. If nothing else we could then ring up Jamie’s old Super–’

  ‘Harry,’ I interrupted.

  ‘Harry, and tell him that his former colleague is having an affair with the missing person and should, at the very least, be questioned about when she last saw Stevie.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ I nodded.

  ‘Well I can’t think of anything else to do in the present circumstances.’

  I stood up. ‘Come on then.’ I rummaged in my big holdall and dug out my mobile. ‘In the meantime, I’ll let Nell know we’re on our way over. As she’s only a few houses down from Stevie’s place, we’ll leave my car on her drive.’

  ‘Let me just clear up.’ Morag began shifting cups from the table to the dishwasher. ‘And anyway,’ she turned back to the table and scooped up the test kits, ‘I’m not going in your car. It’s a tip.’ She dumped all the little packets in her own enormous baby holdall. ‘So go and get Eddie’s car seat, because we’re going in mine.’ Morag slung the holdall over her shoulder and then picked Henry up from the playpen.

  ‘Oh for goodness sake,’ I sighed. ‘A bit of dirt never hurt.’

  ‘Dirt is dirt Cass,’ Morag arched an eyebrow, ‘but your car is pure filth.’

  ‘I’d have thought you’d have been well at home in it then,’ I quipped. ‘Joanie did tell me where you were last night. I don’t need to be Einstein to work out what you were doing.’

  Morag smirked and led the way out of the house.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ said Nell as we stood in her hallway. ‘You want to leave Henry and Eddie here and go for a snoop in Stevie’s house.’

  ‘Clever girl Nellie-Wellie,’ said Morag as she bent down to pat Rocket’s head. The red setter stood at Nell’s heels, optimistically wagging her tail in hope of walkies. ‘And I’ll leave my car on your drive if you don’t mind. Don’t want to draw attention, as such, to Stevie’s house.’

  ‘You couldn’t draw any more attention to Stevie’s place if you tried,’ Nell huffed. ‘There was quite a bit of activity over there last night. Three plods visited. Two went inside and one stood outside, as if guarding the place. They were obviously giving the house the once over. Fortunately Dylan didn’t see anything. He was in bed and asleep, otherwise he’d have been asking what was going on.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ I said with feeling. The last thing I wanted was Dylan asking the twins at school why their dad’s house had been visited by the law.

  ‘Well bring the boys through.’ Nell shut the front door. ‘They can go in Rosie’s playpen. Would you both like a coffee before you go super sleuthing?’

  ‘We’ve just had one,’ said Morag.

  ‘We could have another,’ I said hopefully.

  ‘Let’s search Stevie’s house first,’ said Morag. ‘There will be time for coffee later. And anyway, if you have too many you’ll only be weeing for England. You know what your bladder is like if you overdose on caffeine.’

  ‘Charming,’ I grumbled. ‘Well put the kettle on anyway Nell. We won’t be long.’

  ‘Will do.’ She took Eddie and Henry from us. ‘Come with me boys. You can keep Rosie company.�
�

  We let ourselves out of Nell’s house and walked the short distance to Stevie’s. When I was married to Stevie and living next door to Nell, Stevie had had an affair with a neighbour at the other end of the cul-de-sac and moved in with her. Weeks later, when their relationship had gone pear-shaped, the woman had wanted to move away and start afresh. Stevie had ended up buying her house. In the early days of our split, it had meant the children were never far away from either of their parents. As we walked up the pathway, I was surprised to see the place looking perfectly normal. Somehow I’d been expecting the house to be wrapped in red and white caution tape with police signs prohibiting access. But then again, no accident had occurred. Nor burglary. There was no crime to investigate. Just a person who had seemingly disappeared into thin air.

  I slotted my key into the door’s barrel lock. Inside, post had been picked up from the doormat and stacked neatly on the hall table. The house had a stillness about it. Despite its nooks and crannies being prodded and poked about, the silence signified nobody had lived within it for days. Morag brought up the rear and shut the door behind us. I looked around.

  ‘What exactly are we looking for?’ I asked.

  ‘Who knows? Just peer into every cupboard, pull out every drawer, and be on the lookout for anything...odd. And anything belonging to a female,’ Morag added.

  ‘You’re forgetting this was Charlotte’s home too,’ I reminded Morag. ‘And she still has some bits and pieces here. Who’s to say that a hair clip in the shower isn’t hers rather than Selina’s?’

  ‘We’ll evaluate everything we come across. Let’s check that pile of mail for starters.’ Morag began sifting through envelopes.

  ‘I doubt you’re going to find a letter addressed to Selina,’ I shook my head. ‘I’m sure the police have already examined the mail anyway.’ I moved away from the hall table and took to the stairs. ‘I’ll check the bedrooms. You search the downstairs.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Morag, and moved down the hallway towards the kitchen.

  I walked along the landing. Straight ahead was the master bedroom. I might as well start in that room. I paused in the doorway, surveying the functional rectangular space. Everything was neat and tidy apart from a pair of Stevie’s jeans slung across the bed. Picking them up, I automatically went to one of the fitted wardrobes to put them away. Sliding back one of the wardrobe doors, I found an empty hanger. Clothes hung in a regimental line. At the bottom, shoes were placed in an organised arrangement. Every single pair belonged to Stevie. I slotted the jeans’ hanger onto the rail and shut the wardrobe door. Walking around one side of the bed, I stopped to investigate the bedside table. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. I brushed some dust from my hands. Ahead was the master bedroom’s en-suite. Going into the small shower room, I explored the fitted storage system that housed the sink and ran the length of one wall. Deodorants. Shampoo. Bottles of hair conditioner. Hair-dye. I picked up the carton. Black hair-dye. Interesting. Charlotte was blonde, so my hunch about Stevie colouring his hair was correct. A part of me felt intrusive going through his belongings. Like I was violating his private space. But then again, I told myself as I opened the cupboard over the sink, if the boot were on the other foot and I was missing, I’d be wanting everybody sifting through my stuff for whatever clues they could come up with. I stared at the shelves before me. Toothpaste. A toothbrush. Pink. Not Stevie’s. Quite apart from the fact that he wouldn’t buy himself a pink toothbrush, I knew that Charlotte had taken his toothbrush to the police station for DNA purposes. But surely this particular toothbrush wasn’t Charlotte’s? When a woman moved out, the first thing she’d chuck in her suitcase would be her make-up, skin care products and most definitely her toothbrush. Was this Selina’s toothbrush? Should I pop it in a plastic bag and go off to the police station waggling it at PC Thomson and PC Smith and say, ‘Look! See what I’ve found?’ Or – hang on – maybe it would be best to leave it here. As proper evidence. If I removed it, then it might not be construed as proof of her having been here. Perhaps I should ask Morag’s opinion. I retraced my steps to the landing.

  ‘Morag?’ I leant over the banister rails. ‘Come up here a minute!’

  Morag appeared in the hallway. ‘Have you found something?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  She took the stairs two at a time and followed me into the bathroom.

  ‘Look!’ I pointed at the cabinet.

  Morag’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my goodness! Clever girl Cass.’ She leant across the toilet bowl and whipped a bit of tissue off the loo roll holder.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked. ‘I was referring to this.’ I pointed to the toothbrush. ‘I think it might be Selina’s.’

  ‘Bugger the toothbrush.’ Morag covered her finger tips with the toilet paper and reached into the cabinet. ‘Don’t you recognise this Cass?’ She began carefully nudging a small bottle around on the shelf. ‘When we were peering through Selina’s apartment window, she had identical bottles to this on her kitchen table.’

  I frowned. Flipped back through the pages of my memory. ‘You’re right,’ I nodded.

  Morag kept gently turning the bottle until its label was facing us. She straightened up. Let out a shaky breath. ‘Bloody hell. How did the police miss this?’

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘I do believe,’ she pointed at the bottle, ‘that this is the sort of thing some unscrupulous individuals use to spike drinks.’

  My mouth dropped open. My recent spectacular pass out at the Oxo Tower was still very much to the forefront of my mind. I stared at the label. In neat black typeset was the inscription Gamma-Hydroxybutyric Acid.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  ‘What shall we do?’ I asked Morag. ‘I mean, we can’t exactly prove this stuff belongs to Selina. The Old Bill will think it belongs to Stevie.’

  ‘What the hell is GHB doing in his cabinet?’ Morag frowned.

  ‘I’ve no idea. You know, when he phoned me he sounded so dazed. Like he was drunk or drugged. And now we’ve seen this, I’m wondering if Selina used it on Stevie to drug him. But why would she leave it in his cabinet?’

  Morag fished in the pocket of her jeans and took out her mobile phone. ‘Heaven only knows. But I’m going to take a picture of it on that shelf next to the pink toothbrush. Get out the way Cass and give me some space. This shower room isn’t big enough for the two of us with my elbows sticking out at right angles.’

  I left Morag to it and returned to the master bedroom. I wandered over to the window. Looking out at the cul-de-sac below, I wondered where Stevie was right now. And then I froze. A car had turned into the road. A bright green Mazda MX-5 convertible. And it was coming this way. I watched in horror as Selina’s car bounced gently over the road’s sleeping policemen.

  ‘I do not believe it.’ I paled and stepped smartly back from the window.

  Morag stuck her head out the bathroom doorway. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘We have a visitor.’ I jerked my head at the window. ‘Selina.’

  Morag strode over to the window and peered carefully around the curtain.

  ‘Oh buggerations,’ she hissed. I risked a peek over Morag’s shoulder. Selina’s car had now slowed to a stop outside Nell’s house. A pair of eyes were studying Morag’s car. And the number plate. ‘Oh double buggerations,’ Morag groaned. The Mazda began to move again.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ I squeaked, panic rising. We didn’t have time to make an escape out the back door. Selina’s car was now on Stevie’s driveway.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Morag calmly. ‘Just be quiet and don’t let her see us. She can’t get in after all. She doesn’t have a key.’ With that Selina extracted a bunch of keys from her coat pocket and extended one towards the lock. ‘Triple buggerations. She does have a key.’

  ‘Shit!’ I yelped. And nearly did. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Hide.’ Morag shoved me towards the fitted wardrobe.

  ‘No! Don’t make me
go in there – it will be dark. I hate small dark spaces.’

  ‘For God’s sake Cass,’ Morag hissed, ‘now isn’t the time to get claustrophobic. Get under the bed then.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll fit,’ I bleated. There was the sound of a key slotting into the barrel of the front door’s lock.

  ‘Well take a deep breath and do your best. With my bosoms I’ve no hope of getting under there. I’ll be in the wardrobe. Now hurry up!’

  I flung myself onto the carpet and wriggled with all my might under the bed. Downstairs I heard the letterbox rattle as Selina pushed against the door. I twisted my neck sideways, laying awkwardly on my stomach, chin at a sharp right angle to one shoulder. Tucking an arm behind me, I hoped my feet weren’t sticking out the bottom of the bed. My heart was crashing about in my ribcage, my pulse thudding in the ear that was squashed into the carpet. I couldn’t hear Selina’s footsteps for the noise my cardiovascular system was making. I gulped, and prayed to God she would clear off again very soon. I held my breath in an attempt to be as quiet as possible. It was dusty under the bed and my nose twitched involuntarily. Please God, don’t let me sneeze. But all thoughts of sneezing fled my mind as a pair of slim ankles appeared in the bedroom doorway. My eyes widened in horror. She was here! Just feet from where I lay. The tension was unbearable. I was half expecting Selina to stoop down and peer under the bed. Or cover the short distance to the wardrobe opposite the bathroom, yank the door open and exclaim, ‘Ah ha! You must be Morag Harding. Mind telling me why you were snooping around my apartment block yesterday? And why are you hiding in my lover’s wardrobe?’ Morag would have her work cut out trying to explain she was from the Council whilst nestling amongst Stevie’s suits and shirts.

  But Selina didn’t go to the wardrobe, or look under the bed. Instead she went into the en-suite. Seconds later there was a clicking noise – the bathroom cabinet opening. Then a tinkling as a glass bottle chinked against another glass bottle. Another click – the magnetic lock on the cabinet snapping the door shut. Seconds later, the ankles briefly re-appeared and crossed the distance from bathroom door to bedroom door. And then they disappeared along the landing. My ears strained to hear further movement. There was a brief pause followed by the sound of the front door opening. Moments later it banged shut, the momentum reverberating through the floor on which I lay. I didn’t dare move. Not until I knew for sure she was gone. My neck was aching from the awkward position I was laying in, and my right arm had gone to sleep. There was the sound of an engine bursting into life followed by grinding as reverse gear failed to initially engage. And then the car’s engine slowly receded.