by Susan Lewis
Chrissie spun round, and watched him with big, bewildered eyes, as he came down the hall. ‘It’s Avril, Carla’s friend,’ she said. ‘And John Rossmore.’
Richard frowned, though his manner was perfectly hospitable as he said, ‘It’s freezing out there, won’t you come in?’ and, slipping a protective arm around Chrissie, he opened the door wide.
Once they were all in the warmth of the hall that smelt of babies, and something delicious cooking in the kitchen, he offered a hand to John. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, his eyes looking directly into John’s.
‘Likewise,’ John responded.
Seeing them standing there together, the fleeting observation that Carla really knew how to pick her men passed through Avril’s mind, for, in their own individual ways, they were both exceptionally attractive. Then Richard was turning his shrewd grey eyes to her and saying, ‘How are you, Avril? It’s been a long time.’
She smiled, and tried not to be daunted by the extremely unwelcome understanding of just how difficult this was going to be, with him being so friendly, and Chrissie appearing so nervous. ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she replied.
‘Would you like to take off your coats?’ he offered.
Avril glanced at John, then her eyes flew to Chrissie as she suddenly gasped, ‘Oh my God! Something’s happened to Carla, hasn’t it? That’s why you’re here. Something …’
‘Carla’s fine,’ John assured her, putting a steadying hand on her arm.
Her eyes came uncertainly to his, and he smiled in a way that seemed to relax her.
Watching Richard clocking the moment, Avril shrugged off her coat and handed it over. She didn’t miss the appreciative sweep of Richard’s eyes as they glided over the front of her sweater, though she could hardly put him down as a flirt or a lecher when her breasts were hard to miss. Nor, right at this moment, was she finding it very easy to think of him as a killer.
‘Shall we go through to the sitting room?’ he suggested, indicating the way.
A fire was crackling in the hearth, and an assortment of baby toys was scattered around the floor, though there was no sign of the baby. Probably sleeping, Avril thought, perching on the edge of a large leather armchair, and reaching her hands out to the warming flames.
John went to the opposite chair, while Richard and Chrissie sat together on the sofa, and though Richard appeared quite relaxed, the arm he rested along the back of the cushions behind Chrissie seemed almost protective. Avril felt glad Carla couldn’t see it, for taken at face value they appeared extremely close, and no matter how over it Carla might be, this would inevitably be hard to swallow.
‘Would you like some coffee?’ Chrissie suggested.
Avril looked at John. ‘No, thanks,’ he answered.
More seconds ticked by, then Richard said, ‘Well, I’m glad you felt free to drop in.’
It was a joke, not intended to embarrass, simply to lighten the mood and help them get to the point of their visit. Avril wondered if he had any idea what was coming. If he did, then he was the coolest customer she’d ever come across, because his expression was so benign he could be waiting for them to sell him a carpet. She looked at Chrissie, who appeared to be haunted by all kinds of conflicting emotions, but most of all she seemed so eager to be friendly that for the first time in her life Avril found herself smack in the middle of a situation she didn’t know how to handle. She hadn’t thought about how much this was going to hurt Chrissie, in fact she hadn’t considered Chrissie at all until now.
Her eyes went to John. They’d agreed that she would start the ball rolling, but whatever lines she’d rehearsed had just been erased from her memory by that pathetically disarming look on Chrissie’s face. Just no way could she sit here, building up to accusing the woman’s husband of murder, when she seemed about an inch away from a breakdown already.
Chrissie and Richard were looking at John too, and Avril’s admiration of the man scaled new heights as, apparently recognizing her untimely loss of bottle, he went right off script and said to Richard, ‘We want to ask you about your trip to Zanzibar.’
Avril blinked. So did Richard. Then, frowning, he looked at Chrissie, who was looking at him in equal confusion. ‘I’ve never been to Zanzibar,’ he said, turning back to John. ‘But Chrissie has. Maybe she can help.’
Avril’s heart was thumping. He’d never been to Zanzibar! So why tell Carla he had?
John glanced at Chrissie, then, with more courage than Avril knew she could muster, he said to Richard, ‘While Chrissie was in Zanzibar, where were you?’
Richard’s eyebrows shot up, though he didn’t appear to take offence as he said, ‘I believe Kosovo. Why? Is it important?’
‘It could be,’ John replied. ‘Can you prove you were in Kosovo?’
This time Richard gave a laugh of amazement. ‘Do I need to?’ he asked.
To Avril’s confusion John appeared slightly amused too. ‘It would probably be helpful if you could,’ he responded.
Richard took in a breath, then blew out his cheeks. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m sure I can prove it, but first, I’d like to know why I’m being asked to.’
John looked briefly at Avril, then to Richard he said, ‘This might seem an odd question, but did you tell Carla you’d been to Zanzibar?’
Richard was completely taken aback. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’
‘You’ve been filming there recently, haven’t you?’ Chrissie suddenly jumped in.
John nodded. ‘And your research and set-up were invaluable.’
She seemed pleased by that, but then turned to Richard as though wanting him to take over again now.
‘I’m curious,’ Richard said, ‘to know why you think I told Carla I’d been to Zanzibar.’
Again avoiding a direct answer, John said, ‘When was the last time either of you were in touch with Carla?’
Chrissie and Richard looked at each other again, and Richard said, ‘Not since Carla and I broke up. Why?’
‘Have you had any contact by email?’ John asked.
Avril’s eyes were fixed on Richard, watching for the slightest sign of discomfort. To her astonishment, there was nothing more than a continued bewilderment. ‘No, no contact by email,’ he answered. Then, with a laugh that was trying to be polite, he said, ‘I’m starting to wonder if we might need a lawyer?’
‘I’m sorry,’ John said smiling. ‘We’re in a difficult position, but we do need to ask the questions.’ He looked at Chrissie. ‘Have you had any contact with Carla?’ he asked. ‘I mean, via the email?’
She shook her head. ‘For a long time I was afraid to get in touch with her at all,’ she said, ‘and now …’ Her eyes flicked up to Richard. ‘She probably wouldn’t welcome it.’
Richard sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and clutching one of Chrissie’s hands between both of his, he said, ‘I’m afraid all this intrigue is going to be difficult for us to deal with when you’ve gone, so if you wouldn’t mind telling us exactly what it’s about …’
Avril was about to speak when John put up a hand to stop her and said to Chrissie, ‘I’m sorry if this is going to cause you some pain, but I have to ask you, Richard, if you have an arrangement to meet Carla this evening?’
Chrissie’s head spun to Richard, as her cheeks paled, but before he could answer she said, ‘He can’t have, his publisher’s coming for dinner.’
Richard looked at John.
Avril’s tone was challenging as she said, ‘So were you intending to stand Carla up again?’
Richard couldn’t have appeared more astonished. ‘Again?’ he repeated.
Chrissie’s fist was pressed to her mouth as she said, ‘I knew it! Oh God, I knew it!’
‘No!’ Richard cried, pulling her into his arms. ‘It’s not true. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I’ll have to ask you to leave if you’re going to carry on like this.’
‘What were all the emails really about?’ Avril
demanded. ‘Were you just playing with her mind, or was there a purpose to them that …’
‘Stop!’ Richard barked. ‘I don’t know what emails you’re talking about, nor do I know why you think I went to Zanzibar, or why I had an arrangement to see Carla this evening. Carla and I broke up a long time ago, as you well know. There’s been no contact between us since, other than some unpleasant threats in the early days, all from her. I’d hoped she was getting on with her life by now, in fact I even called her at Christmas just to see how she was.’ His arms tightened around Chrissie, as, looking down at her, he said, ‘I didn’t tell you, because nothing came of it, and I knew from her response that she wasn’t ready to see you.’
Chrissie swallowed hard. ‘What makes you think I want to see her?’ she whispered.
Smiling into her eyes, he said, ‘You miss her dreadfully, I know that. And I hoped, if we could repair some of the damage, that it might help you to get strong again.’ He kissed her forehead, then turned to Avril, who was caught between feeling like an intruder, and trying to get to grips with the admission of a phone call at Christmas.
John’s next words showed that he was either well ahead of her, or out of his mind. ‘Someone’s been sending Carla emails,’ he said, ‘using details and references that would only mean something to you two. Can you explain that?’
Still not rattled, though again surprised, Richard said, ‘Maybe if you told me what kind of details or references.’
‘Passages from French classics,’ John replied. ‘Mentions of operas you’d been to together, places you’ve visited …’ Before Richard could answer, he continued with, ‘Do you have any idea where the letters are that you wrote Carla?’
Avril blinked, as she tried to keep up.
Perplexed, Richard said, ‘I imagine with Carla.’
‘Actually, they’re missing,’ John told him. And before the significance of that had any time to register, he added, ‘Did you ever receive a letter from Carla’s mother, just before she died? Perhaps suggesting that she knew about your affair with Chrissie?’
Stunned, Avril watched Richard’s own astonishment give way to a considered response. ‘I don’t recall ever receiving a letter from Valerie,’ he finally answered. ‘Either just before she died, or at any other time.’
‘Or an email from Carla? Since you broke up?’
‘No.’
John looked at Chrissie. ‘Then who’s been sending them?’ he asked.
Chrissie’s eyes boggled. ‘I never send emails,’ she told him. ‘I never use the computer.’
‘I’m sorry,’ John said. ‘That wasn’t meant to be an accusation.’ His eyes returned to Richard. ‘Do you have any suggestions?’ he asked.
Avril watched, dumbfounded, as something seemed to happen between the two men that finally came out in words presumably only they understood. ‘He’s always been very protective of her,’ Richard said.
‘And knew you extremely well,’ John added. ‘Presumably well enough to pass himself off as you on the email, particularly if he had your letters …’
‘What are you talking about?’ Chrissie demanded.
‘Graham,’ Avril said, finally catching up. ‘You’re talking about Graham.’
‘Are you saying that Graham’s been pretending he’s Richard on the email?’ Chrissie cried.
Richard said, ‘How long has it been going on?’
‘Six months, or more,’ Avril answered, still so astounded by the idea of Graham sending the messages that she couldn’t even begin to connect with where it would take them.
‘But why?’ Chrissie cried. ‘Why would he do that?’
John was getting to his feet. ‘I guess we need to ask him.’
A horrible thought suddenly burst into Avril’s head, and, turning to Richard, she said, ‘Just a minute, if you’re not seeing Carla tonight …’
‘Precisely,’ John said, cutting her off. ‘Do you know where they’re meeting?’
‘No,’ Avril answered, her face draining of colour. ‘I didn’t ask. But surely he’ll just stand her up again, because he can hardly pretend he’s Richard in person, can he?’
John and Richard looked at each other. ‘True,’ John said, ‘but I’d be happier if I knew where the meeting was supposed to take place.’
‘I don’t know why you’re all so alarmed,’ Chrissie said. ‘He’d never hurt her. He’s much too fond of her.’
Richard turned back to John, waiting for his answer.
‘I don’t really want to get into it,’ John said, ‘but Graham could have another agenda that’s much less benign than impersonating someone on the email, even if that is benign.’
Avril swung round. Was he saying now that he thought Graham might have had something to do with Valerie’s death?
‘You mean he could intend Carla some harm?’ Richard said.
‘Until we speak to him, I wouldn’t want to venture what he intends,’ John replied, glancing at his watch. ‘But I do think you should call Carla and tell her you can’t meet her tonight. At least if she knows the arrangement’s off, she won’t go to wherever he’s suggested.’
‘Where can I get her?’ Richard asked, reaching for the phone.
Avril gave him the office number, but when he got through it was to be told that Carla wasn’t there. Avril grabbed the phone. ‘Marjie? It’s Avril. Do you know where Carla is? We need to get hold of her urgently.’
‘She went to get her hair cut,’ Marjie answered. ‘You can probably get her on her mobile.’
Avril hung up, and dialled Carla’s mobile. Though it rang, no-one answered, presumably because her bag was stuffed in a locker. Then a recorded voice came on the line inviting the caller to leave a message. ‘Carla!’ Avril barked. ‘Call me immediately you get this message. I’ll be on my mobile.’ Ending the call she looked at John. There really shouldn’t be any urgency about this, but Carla being out of contact made it feel like there was.
‘Did Marjie say if she was returning to the office?’ John asked.
Avril instantly redialled. The answer was no, Carla wasn’t expected back before five, when Marjie was leaving. Then Marjie added, ‘Was it you who just called Carla’s mobile? I heard it ringing, upstairs in the studio. She must have forgotten to take it.’
‘Oh Christ,’ Avril groaned. She looked at her watch. It was a quarter to five. The supposed meeting with Richard wasn’t until seven, so they still had a couple of hours, and Carla was highly likely to turn up at the ménage sometime after five, in order to get ready.
‘Call Graham,’ John said. ‘Ask him if he’s expecting her.’
‘You think she’s going down to Somerset?’ Avril said, confused. ‘Wouldn’t she think it a bit odd for Richard to arrange to meet her there, when they’re both in London?’
‘I don’t know,’ John answered, ‘but there’s enough time for her to get there between now and seven. Or Graham could be on his way up to London. Do you know his number?’
Avril stared at him blankly. ‘Being who he is, he’s bound to be ex-directory,’ she said, turning to Richard. ‘I don’t suppose you have it?’
He shook his head, and was about to speak when she suddenly started dialling again. ‘Sonya’ll have it,’ she declared. A few beats later she made the connection.
‘Avril!’ Sonya cried. ‘Are you coming down? I really need to see you.’
‘Yeah, I’ll be there,’ Avril told her. ‘But first, do you have Graham’s number? I need to call him.’
‘Why?’ Sonya demanded, her voice sounding shrill.
‘It’s a long story, just give me the number.’
‘There are things about Graham I need to tell you,’ Sonya said.
Avril’s eyes opened wider. ‘What about him?’ she responded, turning to look at John.
‘Mark’ll be back any minute,’ Sonya replied, ‘so I probably won’t have time to tell you much, but I found a letter, in the pocket of …’
‘What letter?’ Avril broke in.
&n
bsp; ‘I think it’s the rest of the one Carla found in the thesis.’ Sonya took a breath. ‘Avril, it’s terrible,’ she said. ‘Graham’s wife, she’s not his wife, and the detective … It’s all in Valerie’s letter. Avril, they’ve killed someone, and I’m just really afraid that they … They might have killed Valerie too.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Avril cried. Then, pulling herself sharply together, said, ‘Just give me that number. Now!’
As she dialled Graham’s house, she relayed what Sonya had said, watching the same shock register on all their faces. ‘Damn!’ she muttered, when Graham’s machine picked up.
Slamming down the phone she turned to John. ‘I wish she’d bloody well call,’ she growled.
Taking the phone, he dialled the office again and said to Marjie, ‘It’s John. Tell me, does Carla have Eddie with her?’
‘Yes,’ Marjie answered.
‘OK,’ he said, and rang off. ‘If she’s got Eddie then there’s a very good chance she’s on her way to Cannock,’ he told the others.
‘Or to somewhere between here and Cannock,’ Avril added, unhelpfully.
‘Call Sonya again,’ John said, the tautness of his face belying the calmness of his tone. ‘Find out if Carla told her where she was meeting Richard.’
Having made the connection, Avril asked the question, then turned hopeful eyes on the others as Sonya said, ‘I didn’t know she was meeting Richard, but she did say she was coming down to Cannock tonight.’
‘What time?’ she said.
‘I presume straight from work.’
‘Are you meeting her train?’
‘She didn’t ask me to.’
‘Well, you’d better get to the station and make sure it’s you who takes her to the cottage and nobody else. Better still, take her to your house.’
‘Avril, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?’
‘I’ll explain everything when I see you, just please go to the station …’
‘Which one? I’ve got no idea which train she’s getting, or where she’s going to come in.’
Frustration almost got the better of Avril, but with supreme effort she stopped herself screaming and said, ‘Go to Bath. That’s the most likely. She thinks she’s meeting Richard at seven, so if she is heading to Cannock she should be there around six to six thirty.’
