The Green Room

by Faith Mortimer

“Liam, I honestly didn’t—I never thought he’d do that, go so far. He swore it would only be an informal chat. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Liam exhaled deeply and stared at a spot behind me. “He obviously changed his mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients to see.” He turned on his heel and barged from the room, leaving the door swinging behind him.

  Finishing my account of that morning, I glanced down at my hands clasped tightly together on the table in front of us. I could see the whites of my knuckles and forced myself to relax. Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids and I swallowed hard.

  “Oh, Ella, how dreadful,” Teresa said, her face a mask of dismay. She grasped hold of my arm. “Listen. Keep your cool and concentrate on work. I’m sure it’ll blow over. We both know Liam never holds a grudge, especially against you—he’s always had a soft spot for his favourite nurse, Sister Mallory. That’s probably why he was so irate. In his mind, he’s been betrayed whether he’s guilty of something or not. Look, isn’t he taking leave soon? I bet when he returns, he’ll be refreshed and calm, and everything will be back to normal.”

  “I hope so,” I replied, my voice wobbly, indicating how miserable I felt. Teresa was probably right, she usually was. But being betrayed by a friend was distressing, and I felt awful. “I’d hate to have made an enemy and I like Liam. I just can’t get it out of my mind. I could kill Michael for handling this so badly.”

  Teresa sat back, her head on one side. “You know, although I’ve never really cared for Michael, I’ve always thought he was an honest copper. He seems to have carried his enthusiasm a bit too far this time. I wonder why? He must really have thought Liam was guilty.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I only told him what I saw and my suspicions.”

  “It’s as if he took an immediate dislike to Liam and judged him to be guilty.”

  I finished my tea, pushed my cup aside and rested my elbows on the table. “He’s a real pain at the moment. He seems to take a dislike to all my male friends. He hated Tim on sight, too. It’s as if Michael hates everyone at the moment, and all poor Tim has done is rent the apartment next to mine.” I sighed and made a face. “Michael made such a fuss about Tim taking down some of Mum’s photographs as if that was a major crime. He’s acting like a big child.”

  Teresa frowned. “Have you considered Michael might actually care more for you than you realise? Could he be in love and not recognise it? Maybe, this is his way of hitting back because you decided to cool it and do your own thing. I know it’s kind of extreme, but strange things happen when you’re in love. Hey, don’t look like that, I’m just thinking out loud here.”

  I shook my head as I gave her another of what she called my ‘withering looks’.

  “Maybe. No, I don’t believe that at all. You said yourself many times Michael only has room for number one. No, I think he thought he could nail Liam as the murderer, take the credit and be promoted to detective. It’s what he’s always wanted, but for some reason he’s never got there. I get the impression he’s as idle as anything when it comes to routine police work and only gets excited when there’s something big on. I know he sat his sergeant exams years before I knew him, but failed. I asked why, but he got very irritated with me, and I never learnt anymore.”

  “Okay, I understand all that, but what about your tenant friend, then? You’ve just told me Michael hates all your male friends and tried to blacken Tim’s name and warn you to stay away from him. Yet, the only thing he’s done wrong is apparently take down a few photos in his flat. It doesn’t make sense to make such a fuss over something so trivial. I bet you a tenner, Michael still has the hots for you.”

  “I suppose he might, but I’m sure it was only sex. Teresa, believe me when I say he truly didn’t feel anything for me. Can we please just leave it now? Only I have to get back to work, and I’d like to forget all about it and concentrate on the rest of the day’s theatre list.”

  “Yeah, of course.” She paused as an idea entered her head. “The photos…what were they of?”

  “Didn’t I say? Just old pics of actresses Mum took. Some were years old. Dad suggested she made a study of British actresses as a kind of niche for herself when she started out as a budding photographer. She won an award for best photographer one year.”

  “Does Michael know what the photos were of? Has he seen them?”

  “Yes, he’s seen them, and yes, he knows they’re studies of actresses, but we’ve never discussed them, as far as I can remember. I have a few similar ones in my own place, but apart from glancing at them from time to time, he’s never made any memorable comments or asked questions. Why?”

  “I don’t know, except I was wondering if he knew one of the actresses.”

  “I don’t think so. He would have said something, surely? He recently learnt my father’s mother was an actress but never queried it. As we’ve both said, Michael is only interested in himself.”

  She nodded. “You’re right there.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six - Ella

  “But can’t you remember who’s in the photographs, Mum?”

  “I’ve told you…off-hand, not all of them. I probably have the negatives somewhere, and I could dig them out, but I don’t have time right now. I promised Mary I’d go with her to visit her mother in hospital. Poor old thing’s had a stroke and it’s a bad one. Mary needs moral support.”

  “How sad…poor lady. But if you do find time later, can you look through them?”

  “Maybe,” she replied, wandering round the lounge as though she was looking for something, and I knew I was wasting my time. When Mum had other things on her mind, it wasn’t easy to distract her. Not that it was important. I just had this idea to ask her who had been in her collection of photos and then look them up on the internet. Something would have come to light then, wouldn’t it? Although Tim said he would tell me why he had removed them when he was ready and that I just needed to be patient, the whole thing grated on my nerves.

  Mum suddenly pounced on the sofa cushions and pulled something free. “At last! My phone. I knew I had it in here last night. Right, I believe I have everything now.” She turned to me with a beam and then frowned. “Talking of photos, you never did tell us what Tim said about the ones he took down. If he doesn’t want them, I can always store them somewhere until he leaves us.”

  I stifled a sigh. “He has them safe, and he’ll put them back in his own time, but it will be soon. He wouldn’t say why he took them down. He just said to trust him and he’d tell me when he was ready. I don’t think it’s that big a deal, Mum. We’re reading something into nothing.”

  “Hmm, I’m not so sure you’re telling me the truth. I haven’t time to argue now. I have to be off. See you later, perhaps?”

  “I am telling the truth. For goodness’ sake. Why is everyone so edgy? I may see you later when you get back from the hospital…I’ve nothing planned this evening. I presume Dad’s out?”

  “Yes, he’s meeting a couple of old school friends down at the theatre for a few drinks. You know what he’s like. He’s there that often, anyone would think he has shares in the place.”

  “I see. Are they attending a play? I don’t even know what’s on this week.”

  “No, he hasn’t the stomach for it at the moment, he says. Not since the last couple of murders. He says the police are keeping tabs on the place. He said he’s seen Michael in the vicinity on one occasion. Very briefly and in the background…he’s probably working undercover or whatever they call it on TV. Now, talking of Michael, remember his warning. Whatever you do or wherever you go, be vigilant. Michael may not be flavour of the month, but it’s admirable he has your safety in mind, and I think he’s a darn good copper. It’s nice to know in this day and age, and you should remember that. You’ve been warned. Oh, and before I forget to remind you, remember we’re going down to Bournemouth tomorrow for a few days. We haven’t decided how long to stay—it depends on the weather. Make sure you lock up at night, and I took the l
iberty of telling Michael we’re going away. He said he’s happy to keep an eye on things, even though you’ve split up. Now, I must get moving or I’ll be late. Can you see yourself out, dear?”

  She kissed my cheek and was on the way through to the kitchen within seconds, leaving me speechless and with no opportunity to argue about involving Michael. I closed the hall door behind me and wandered back upstairs. Mum never ceased to amaze me, and I mulled her words over in my head. My parents’ few days’ break away in Bournemouth had come as a complete surprise. Mum really was getting a bit odd and vague as she got older. Her last conversation was a bit startling, as she had always been so level-headed and not prone to panicking. Maybe it was just mothers looking out for their daughters.

  I passed Tim’s closed door. He mentioned the day before that, as he was tied up most of the day and evening, I wasn’t likely to see him. Apart from the initial pang of disappointment, I wasn’t too worried, since I had plenty to do at home and the changeable weather wasn’t conducive enough to entice me outside. It would have been nice to have seen him, though, as our paths hadn’t crossed much more recently. I made myself a cup of hot chocolate and after tidying my flat, decided to have a relaxing few hours and read, curled up on my sofa beneath a soft throw.

  I thought back to my conversation with mum. It was annoying that she couldn’t remember the names of all the actresses in the photographs. Teresa had queried whether Michael knew my grandmother had been an actress. At the time it had passed through my mind that she could have been right. But so what? Everybody had their favourite actors and actresses.

  Ten minutes later, my phone went and I saw it was Michael. I debated whether to ignore his call, as I was still smarting after Liam’s angry outburst, and then decided perhaps I should see what he wanted. As well as confronting him about Liam, I did want to know what really happened. Michael was strange, though. Considering we were a non-item, he was certainly persistent.

  “You want me to come over now?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m in Guildford. I need to talk to you. Or I could come to you if you prefer.”

  I thought rapidly and glanced over at the window. The rain was lashing against the glass. Did I really want to go out in that? Then again, I didn’t much like the idea of Michael coming over to mine. It was over between us, dammit. I no longer had to put up with his size tens under my dining table or lounging on my furniture.

  I suppressed a sigh. “Okay, I’ll meet you. The wine bar at the top of the High Street. You can order me a large glass of Cabernet for my trouble. Give me ten minutes.”

  I brushed my hair, checked my make-up and picked out a heavy-duty waterproof jacket. Despite driving into town, it was raining that hard, I would have got soaked in my light coat just walking from the nearby car park to the bar.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven - Ella

  The wine bar I chose was always a popular place, and that night, even with the foul weather, was no exception. I zigzagged my way through the taken tables and chairs until I espied Michael sitting at a small table right at the back of the room. The noise coming from the punters was deafening, and because of the dreadful weather, everyone was indoors. I wondered how the smokers among the groups would cope.

  Michael gave a brief wave, and I dodged round the nearest throng to his table. “Hey, Sweet pea! You made it then. Where have you parked?” He stood up and helped me remove my dripping coat before hanging it on a nearby hook. He paused and then kissed my cheek lightly.

  I flicked my damp hair back out of eyes and sat in the vacant chair opposite him. I saw he had already bought me the glass of wine I requested. “Hi! Behind the Civic Hall.” I glanced round. “God, it’s busy in here tonight. The recession must really be over. You did great to find free chairs let alone a table.”

  We picked up our glasses simultaneously, and I took a sip of wine. “Thanks!” I eyed Michael over the rim. He was dressed in his usual sweater, blue denims and thick-soled walking boots. I met his gaze and almost flinched. His expression was cool, icy even. I wondered what he wanted to talk about. I decided to ask my questions first before he launched into whatever he had on his mind.

  “So, you hauled Liam in. I understand he wasn’t very happy over your treatment.”

  Michael glanced to his left and then right, before shifting his weight in his seat. His cool politeness vanished, and I wondered why I suddenly had the strong feeling he looked shifty and wasn’t going to tell me the whole truth. What had he done now? “McAllister wasn’t very forthcoming when we first invited him in for a little chat. He refused to answer any questions at first, and when we politely asked for a DNA sample, he demanded his solicitor. Eventually, we made him see sense.” He replied and drew himself upright in his chair. I wondered to whom he was trying to justify his actions: himself or me.

  “We? Do you mean your inspector?”

  “Of course. Who else, Ella? What are you insinuating?” Again, his glance shot off round the room while he fiddled with his pint.

  Something in his tone made me wary, suspicious even. I recalled Liam saying your boyfriend and his pal had me dragged into the station in the dead of night and questioned. Would he have called Michael’s inspector ‘his pal’? I doubted it—another constable, more like. “Nothing. I was just pointing out how annoyed Liam was.”

  Michael took a gulp of bitter and placed his glass down on the table with a thud. “I don’t know why he’s bleating now. We let him go, didn’t we? Mind you, we advised him to stay in the area. It felt good winding up the arrogant, overpaid bastard.”

  I blinked. I began to suspect Michael could be a bully, but he had never given me any real indication of it before.

  “I don’t think you can say that about Liam. He’s certainly not overpaid, considering the hours all hospital registrars put in. Arrogant? Maybe a trifle over-confident, but deep down, Liam’s a great guy. Lousy conditions, overwork and stress are horrible bedfellows.”

  Michael narrowed his eyes and leant nearer. “I thought you had the hots for your lodger fellow? Now I learn you fancy Mr Supercilious Surgeon too. You’d better watch it, Ella, or you’ll be getting a reputation as Miss Spreadseasy.” He laughed at his vulgar joke.

  I didn’t need this. “How dare you? What type of low-life are you to say a thing like that?” I went to pick up my bag, but his arm shot out, and he caught me by the wrist.

  “Don’t be stupid. I was having a laugh. Sit still and finish your wine. It bloody well cost enough.”

  I wasn’t convinced and shook my head. Some laugh. My voice was low but firm when I replied. “Let go of my arm, Michael. One more word like that and I’m out of here. Apologise now or I walk.” I felt my legs shake under the table, I was that riled up. What a bastard he was being. What had brought that on? I thought there was more to what he was saying, and as much as it pained me, I wanted to find out. For one thing, had Liam’s interview even been legal? And who was his pal? I bet it was just another constable. It would have worked to their advantage to have Liam come in during late hours when there were few members of staff around. No wonder Liam didn’t have his solicitor present.

  “I said I was joking, okay? All right, I’m sorry. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.” I replied, flashing him one of my looks. “Now, get to the point. Why did you want to see me?”

  Michael shrugged. “This and that.” As I went to stand up, he held up a detaining hand. “All right, I’ll tell you because even though we’re not together any more, I still care for you. I wanted to warn you that we believe the Surrey Punisher’s drawing his net ever closer round Guildford. He’s killed three victims in short succession, and we believe he’s working up for more. He’s concentrating in this area. He’s done with the rest of Surrey. We know that. This is his playground.”

  “More? But what about further news coverage? Hardly anything’s been mentioned today or yesterday…” I whispered in horror.

  He nodded. “Those on high have been trying to keep most of it under wraps. T
hey don’t want to start a panic. But yeah, we’ve been over all the clues which all point to our conclusion.”

  I wondered what clues and which conclusion but guessed Michael would never tell me, even if he could have. He always liked having the upper hand. Nevertheless I asked, and was surprised when he answered with a faint smirk.

  He leaned forward and indicated I do the same. “For your ears only, Ella. You must swear not to tell anyone or that I’ve told you this.” He said this with a tiny trace of a smile, and I guessed he was enjoying feeling important. He continued. “Not only does our perp rape and strangle his victims, but he enjoys paraphilia, or to put it into simple terms, raping with a little sexual deviance.”

  “How awful.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “I don’t think I want to hear any more.” My voice sounded strangled in my throat.

  “Like many killers, he takes a little souvenir from each victim. So now do you understand when I tell you how important it is for you to be ultra-careful? No woman is safe.”

  I knew I blanched and bit my bottom lip to stop it quivering. My stomach felt like it had swooped down to my knees. Michael’s next question threw me. He sat back in his seat and picked up his pint.

  “Are you still seeing Tim Coleman? Your mother seems to think so. She told me she’s worried about your well-being lately. You’ve taken to doing erratic things.”

  “Yes, I gathered you spoke to her. She told me. But when was this exactly?” I suddenly realised just what else he had said. “And what erratic things am I meant to be doing?” I know I must have looked as indignant and shocked as I felt. Who was the underhand one now? Or come to that, erratic? Michael’s mind was all over the place. What was going on?

  “Ella.” He laid a hand on my wrist again, only very gently this time. His eyes warm and concerned. “Please listen to me. We’ve all got your interests at heart. Your parents are worried you’re getting too close to him. You’re developing a fondness which might not be reciprocated.”