by Gwyn GB
They agree to meet at one of the quirky independent cafes in between the mortuary and the police station. The Daily Grind straddles the corner, with big windows showcasing its coffee bar seats, and a warm welcoming feel as soon as you walk through the door. They’re both early, which Claire finds makes her heart spring.
‘My treat,’ she says to Mark, ‘I’m going to be picking your brains.’
‘Yes but I promised to buy you a coffee,’ he replies, his eyes shining and not leaving her face.
In the event, he gets to the cashier before she does and even persuades her to partake in a caramel slice with her latte.
They sit down on some sofas, facing each other but not so far apart that she can’t smell his musty, spicy aftershave. He’s wearing black jeans instead of the usual hospital scrubs and she notices his broad thighs for the first time. The sight and smell of him stirs something in her and she nearly blushes at the thoughts running through her mind. She quickly looks down at the papers she’s pulled out of a file, to distract herself. It’s hard when she has to look into his green eyes. She needs to pull herself together.
‘Thanks for giving me the time for this,’ she begins, trying to keep things completely professional. ‘There have been a large number of unexplained deaths connected to a business we’re investigating. None of them were ever treated as crime scenes because they looked straightforward. We have five that we know of, but potentially there could be more.’
‘Interesting,’ Mark replies, ‘that’s definitely a bizarre statistical anomaly if it’s not murder or assisted.’
‘Exactly.’
‘When were these deaths?’
‘All in the last year.’
‘Mmh OK so we might be looking at an exhumation?’
‘Ah, the good news is you have one in your mortuary right now. Todd Fuller.’
Mark shakes his head.
‘Not one of mine.’
‘No, but could you take a look at him for us?’
‘Of course.’
‘These are all the coroners’ reports and autopsies for the others. If we can find anything about Todd Fuller that suggests he was murdered then we will be in business.’
‘OK message understood and I assume you want this yesterday?’
‘Of course, thank you.’
Mark nods. ‘OK, leave them with me.’ He takes a sip of his coffee and deftly changes tack. ‘So how you enjoying your new DI status?’ he asks, smiling now.
‘It’s good, still a lot to learn, but I love the job.’
‘Were there ever any repercussion over the Jackie Stiller case?’
‘No and that still gets me. If only they’d listened to me.’ Claire feels her jaw harden.
‘You’re never going to win every one you know,’ Mark says, his voice softening, ‘There will always be some that beat you or the rest of the investigating team. The main thing is to learn from it.’
‘Yep I know you’re right, but it won’t happen again on my watch that’s for sure.’
Claire thinks back a year, to the day she walked into Mark’s autopsy suite and saw Jackie on his table. Staying professional then had been near impossible. He’d seen how much it had upset her. Layton Trent had gone to town on Jackie. She looked like she’d been run over by a bus, her cheekbones and eye sockets broken. Every inch of her body showed the blow after blow from an angry man who she’d barely even said a word to - let alone harmed or wronged. His deranged fixation with her had made her life a misery for nearly two years before he’d finally exploded. The authorities failed Jackie, she had nobody to protect her. Claire knows she will always see that broken, battered body and live with the knowledge that she too had failed her.
There’s silence for a few moments, the jumble of thoughts and ideas swirling between them.
‘Booked any holidays?’ Mark asks, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from heavy work stuff.
‘No not yet. I’ll probably pop back to Jersey for a week to see my parents at some point. You?’
‘Toying with the idea of doing one of those eco-travel packages, you know where you get to go somewhere exciting and volunteer to help the locals or wildlife as well.’
‘Wow that sounds good, an awful lot more adventurous than me just going home for a week.’
‘I’ll send you the link to the website if you like,’ he adds.
A vision of herself with Mark saving sea turtles on some endless beach, or building a school in Africa, comes into Claire’s mind. It’s a pleasant thought, certainly one she might explore further now Jack isn’t in her life.
33
Rachel, 17th October 2016
It’s been an incredibly upsetting start to the week at the agency. Rachel, Gary and Felicity watched as the police arrived en masse, and a pale-faced Eddie handed over the agency records and various documents. Turns out that Sandra has been lying to them all and now they haven’t a clue who she really is. Rachel always felt there was a bit of an edge to Sandra, but now she’s thinking back on everything she’s ever said or done to get clues as to why she might have lied about who she is. In truth, she’d always been tight-lipped about her private life, but Rachel hadn’t found that unusual because she also keeps herself to herself. Could Sandra have killed Neil? Could she be her stalker? The big question still is why?
With the office in such a state, Eddie sends them all home early. This is a double-edged sword for Rachel. She loves her job, it’s really important to her, and if word gets out that there is trouble it could mean the end of the agency. On the other hand, she’s glad to get home early as she really needs to take Amber to the vets. She’s been worrying about her all day. This morning her eyes were half closed and she seemed almost wobbly on her feet. Getting home early means it isn’t quite such a rush to get her back out and through the traffic to make her appointment.
Every time she opens her front door she is on tenterhooks. Will there be another letter? Thankfully, today the only thing to greet her on the hall floor is a flyer from a local church inviting her to meet God. In the daylight, the house holds less fear but every noise has her on alert, and she has to cautiously check each room in the house before she feels even remotely secure.
This time it’s a flying visit. She apologises to Reg with a quick cuddle and then she and Amber get back in the car and head towards Wimbledon Village and the vets.
The waiting room is filled with bouncy tail wagging Labradors, perfectly groomed Cockapoos and French Bulldogs, and hissing cats in baskets. Rachel has to queue behind an elderly man at the reception. He’s not got an animal with him and when he turns to leave she sees he’s been crying. She wonders what friend he’s had to leave behind today. The receptionist is trying to answer phone calls for appointments and deal with those waiting. She’s looking flustered.
‘Sorry,’ she mouths to Rachel as she picks up the phone, ‘We’re under-staffed.’
Rachel mouths, ‘No problem,’ back but doesn’t dare put Amber on the ground for fear one of the canine patients will launch themselves at her. Instead, she places her carry cage carefully on top of the reception desk, right next to the multi-coloured knitted catnip filled hedgehogs being sold for a cat sanctuary.
Once the receptionist is able to talk, Rachel gives her name and then retreats to the furthest corner, nursing Amber’s basket on her lap and praying that she isn’t going to get worse with the stress. It seems to take forever for the occupants of the room to be swapped for new arrivals and for their turn to come up. While they wait she reads the posters on how to prevent your pet from becoming obese and why you must avoid ticks.
The vet is a man in his late forties and Rachel is glad it’s someone with experience. He has soft hazel eyes which smile at her reassuringly as she hoists the virtually limp Amber from the basket. Amber’s legs splay slightly as they slip on the Formica top of the examination table. The rabbit makes no effort to correct them or to run away.
‘Let’s have a look at you,’ he says to Amber, an
d Rachel immediately warms to him. A man who talks kindly to animals is a good one in her book. He looks in Amber’s eyes and opens her mouth, showing her orange stained teeth. She is remarkably calm and Rachel realises this might not be a good thing. Then he feels her body, expert fingers searching for any unusual lumps and swellings. He finds one.
‘OK. Put your hand here,’ he says to Rachel, indicating Amber’s stomach.
Rachel feels with her fingers like she’s just seen him do. Underneath her rabbit’s soft fur is a large swelling. She looks up at him fearfully.
‘From what you’ve told me and what I can see, I think she has a large intestinal tumour and it may well have ruptured because she has symptoms of anaemia also.’
‘What can you do?’ Rachel asks.
His face is pure sympathy now.
‘We could try to operate, but in all likelihood she will die on the operating table because she’s so weak and because of the shock. Even if she doesn’t die we might find that the tumour is attached to a vital organ and so impossible to remove. If the operation is successful you are only going to be giving her a few months - at most.’ He stops now letting the words sink in.
Rachel nods.
‘I think the kindest thing for her is to let her go,’ he delivers the final punch-line.
She looks him in the face now and nods again.
‘I don’t want her to suffer, if you really think her chances are that slim?’
‘I do I’m afraid. She’s clearly quite weak already and to be honest she may not last the night anyway.’
‘OK,’ says Rachel quietly and she picks Amber up for one last time while the vet disappears to get what he needs.
Walking back into the house with the basket is horrible. Inside is the dead weight of Amber’s body. Rachel wanted to bring her home and lay her to rest in the garden she loved. She also knows Reg will be looking for Amber, perhaps if he sees her body he’ll understand why she won’t be there anymore. Rachel knows the pain of non-closure only too well.
As she closes the front door her mobile phone buzzes in her bag. She’s had the volume turned off ever since last night’s calls but thankfully there have been no more. Eddie had said he’d let them all know if the office is going to be open tomorrow or not, so she gently places down the basket and rummages in her pocket for the phone.
It’s a text, but it’s not from Eddie. It’s one word,
‘BITCH’
34
Claire, 17th October 2016
When Claire arrives at Rachel Hill’s house to deliver the panic alarm, it takes her a good few knocks on the door before she answers. She spots her peering through the sitting room curtains and reminds herself how terrifying it must be to have someone stalking your every move.
As Rachel opens the door she holds back, hiding behind it and opening it just enough to let Claire in. She’s been crying.
‘Are you OK?’ Claire asks her.
Rachel looks embarrassed and flushes.
‘Yes I’m fine, sorry. Everything just got to me today. I had to put my rabbit to sleep and there’s all the stuff going on at the agency. Then I received a nasty text. I just wish I knew who it is that’s doing this…’
‘They’re texting you?’ Claire asks and Rachel nods, leading her through into the kitchen where the notebook and recent letter sit.
‘I had a series of phone calls last night too and they were here, outside.’
‘Why didn’t you call us?’
‘I went out and shouted at them,’ she looks embarrassed again, ‘and they seemed to go away. The phone calls stopped.’
‘Right let’s have a look at your phone, see where the calls are coming from. I’ve brought an alarm with me, something you can carry around with you at all times. It will go straight through to help, I’ll show you that in a minute too.’
An hour later and Claire and Rachel are sitting at the breakfast bar in her kitchen. Rachel is making another coffee and Claire has just come off a phone call to one of the team.
Claire takes a moment to look around her. Rachel’s kitchen is spacious compared to her own, and completely uncluttered. She doesn’t appear to be into any modern gadgets and equipment at all. The worktops are clean and empty, not like her flat has been with Jack’s stuff everywhere. His water bottle to keep his fluids up when exercising, the juicer so he can whizz up some weird green goo that is going to make him super healthy and strong. Not to mention the fake bar signs… but that was last week. This week her kitchen is also uncluttered and Claire feels a warm glow of contentment about that fact. Not to mention the certainty that when she gets home she won’t have to put up with visitors and impromptu social gatherings when she’s tired.
Rachel sits back down with the cafètiere and pulls her out of her thoughts.
‘Well, they’ve confirmed that the mobile phone used was a Pay-as-you-go and that it was last used in the vicinity of your house. We’ll keep an eye on it now, see if we can track where else they go, but I suspect whoever it is won’t be stupid enough to take it home with them left on.’
Rachel is looking pretty miserable and Claire feels sorry for her, she’s had a crap day. She tries some small talk, albeit with inquisitiveness as its driver.
‘So not into smart phones then?’
She hands Rachel her mobile phone back, a standard Samsung flip phone.
‘No I can’t be bothered with social media and all that stuff. With our clients, I notice they feel more isolated and lonely when they’re hooked on Facebook and Twitter. They see everyone else seemingly having these busy, fun-filled lives and all it does is rub in the fact they’re on their own.’
‘Doesn’t it make people feel connected to someone, even if it is online? I find I can keep in touch with what’s going on back home in Jersey.’
‘It can, and I’m sure it’s great for many people, but if you are someone prone to loneliness and you see a person you care about doing great stuff miles away where you can’t join in, it can just make you feel more isolated. People use it as a crutch, but it won’t solve their problem which is the fact they want a real relationship.’
‘No I suppose not.’
‘You met your boyfriend at work I assume?’ Rachel asks. She’s cheered up a bit now her mind has been taken off the stalker.
‘Err, yes, but actually we’ve just split up.’ Claire finds herself confiding.
‘Oh I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s OK,’ Claire replies, ‘we’d drifted apart, wanted different things.’
Rachel looks at her for a brief moment as though she’s studying her, then her face changes.
‘Why were you all at the agency today?’ she asks her.
‘It’s part of our investigation into Neil’s death. I need to ask you some questions about the agency and about Sandra, would it be OK if I did that now?’
Rachel nods
‘Of course. She called in sick today didn’t she? Is she OK? Nothing’s happened to her has it?’
‘Do you know her well?’ Claire avoids Rachel’s questions.
Rachel thinks a few moments.
‘We see each other five days a week, but actually, I suppose I don’t know her that well. We talk in the office, occasionally we all go out for team drinks and things, but if I think about it I know very little about her.’
‘No idea where she was born, where she went at weekends, what she liked to do in her spare time?’
‘No. No idea at all.’ Rachel looks surprised.
‘And do you have any idea if she might have been seeing someone at the agency? Or if she had a partner at home?’
‘No. She is very business-like, efficient. She really just avoids all the personal stuff. We spend our days talking to people about their private lives so I don’t find that unusual, just think it’s an antidote to all the emotional stuff we deal with each day.’
‘Does she get on with everyone at the agency?’
‘Yes, as far as I’m aware.’
‘Do you and her get on?’ Claire pushes.
‘Yes. I have no issues with her at all, we are friendly. She is OK isn’t she?’
‘These are just routine questions, we’re asking all the staff. Do you have good relations with the rest of them, Gary, Eddie, Felicity?’
‘Yeah, we’re all good. As you know I occasionally meet up with Gary out of hours, he’s a nice guy, but there’s nothing going on between us,’ she qualifies again when she sees Claire’s look. ‘Felicity, we don’t really have much in common and Eddie he’s married and always seems to be busy, but it’s a nice team.’
‘What about clients, are there any you can think of that have caused you any issues, or the other staff, or who have acted oddly?’
‘No-one apart from Rosa McKenna who keeps saying she’s going to sue the agency. I’ll be honest, I told her she shouldn’t have joined. She’s never going to find a meaningful relationship the way she is, she’s too into herself. She’s one of those people who would make someone lonely if they were in a relationship with her - you know what I mean? She’d be so self-absorbed that they’d feel unloved.’
Claire nods and can’t help an image of her father drifting through her mind.
‘I’ve met her,’ is all Claire says.
‘My job is more than just getting people to go on dates you know,’ Rachel is looking upset again. ‘I know some people think working for a dating agency is silly, but we help people. Loneliness is very painful and there have been loads of studies which show it causes physical illness, depression and other mental illness. It’s not just a gimmicky valentines thing. Humans are social creatures, like rabbits, we all need somebody at some point and some people need somebody all the time. We help them find each other.’
Claire can’t help but wonder if the agency will be able to survive the investigation storm that’s about to hit, but she’s not going to make Rachel’s day any worse by mentioning that now.
