by SP Edwards
Marr shook his head.
‘She’d stick my head in a deep fat fryer.’
‘That’s comforting; good to know we’re not risking much.’
‘It’s the truth. My wife doesn’t do passive aggressive.’
Sam leaned over and took the not-yet lit cigarette from between Marr’s lips.
‘You’ll forgive me being cautious, then.’
Sam threw the cigarette in the nearby bin, and Marr smiled. He knew it was childish, but sometimes he just couldn’t get over what was happening.
The first time he and Sam slept together, it really had been just a drunken mistake. A stinker of a conference on changing government policy, a nasty break-up for her and a bottle of stolen scotch behind the bar.
Things proceeded from there.
When it had carried on after the conference, though…well, Marr couldn’t honestly say he’d fought Sam’s advances off. His fellow DI knew what she wanted. Sure, if you saw a transcript of the conversation, you’d say she talked him into it. But if you were there? Well, you might not.
‘You’re already a cheater, Steve,’ she’d said, not looking at him; tossing the fact out there like it was nothing. ‘Done. There’s no going back. Whatever happens now, you’ll always have done it.’
Half an hour later they’d been back at her flat, and he was a cheater for the second time.
Would he be able to defend himself if he’d left it as one, single, drunken mistake?
Probably not. He’d been lucid enough that he could have stopped if he’d really wanted to. But he hadn’t. No, Marr had been having far too much fun enjoying the feeling of Sam’s body against his, her voice in his ear. The way she’d turned away from him to slide her skirt down…
His thoughts were interrupted by Sam’s mobile, ringing on the table next to the bed. She got up to answer it, Marr not wasting the chance to run his eyes over her body.
Before answering, she turned to him, catching him in the act, and smiling. Then, she held the phone to show him the screen.
It was Brooke.
Marr nodded, and stood up to get dressed.
On his way home, his own phone rang. He saw his wife’s name in white letters, and his breath caught in his throat.
‘Hi love,’ he said, putting the phone onto hands free.
‘Your dinner’s burning’ she said.
‘Well, that’s a shame. Luckily I’m going past the Shining Dragon on the way home. Though I suppose after that prawn curry we had last weekend, you’re probably not in the mood for takeaway.’
Lizzie had been up throwing up continually for the last week, and Saturday’s dinner was blamed.
‘Well thank you for bringing that pleasant memory up. Luckily, I’ve got a blue stick right here that’s happy to take the blame away from the prawns.’
There was a squeal as Marr braked hard. He did so without thinking, and was lucky there were no cars behind him on the road.
Holy shit.
Lizzie was laughing gleefully, enjoying the silence.
‘You’re…you’re kidding,’ Marr said.
‘Afraid not. Your promotion was well timed; means we can afford to do up the spare room.’
Marr imagined a cot, and painted blue walls.
Then, with his gut full of concrete, he thought of a hotel room at a conference. And a bottle of whisky, stolen from behind the bar.
‘Christ…’ he said, unable to come up with anything better.
Lizzie laughed again; gleeful, amused, as if nothing would bother her again.
‘I’ll pour you a drink’ she said, before hanging up.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rather than head to the station the next morning, Marr decided it was as good a time as any to go and see Gregor Stanic, Anna’s fiancée. Stanic lived in a fairly central location: a house off one of the roads tailing away from the train station. Being a freelancer, it probably made sense to have good access to London.
Marr managed to find a space on the road and pulled up outside the house. He checked his watch. Eight-thirty. Probably a bit too early, but he wasn’t interrupting much: Gregor Stanic was unlikely to have slept at all.
It took seconds for a tall, well-built man to answer the doorbell. There was no skirting around the fact that Anna Markham’s fiancée was a handsome guy. His black hair was straight and cut high-and-tight, and there was just a hint of stubble around his square jaw. If it wasn’t for the dark circles around his eyes, Stanic could have come straight from a movie set.
Marr held up his identification.
‘Living room’s on the left’ Stanic said in reply, allowing Marr through. His voice was deep, and controlled.
‘Coffee?’ he asked, as Marr picked the comfiest looking chair in the room and sat down.
‘Black, please’ he replied. Stanic nodded and walked off to the back of the house, returning a couple of minutes later with two steaming mugs of black coffee.
‘I thought you’d come yesterday’ He said.
‘Did DC Alexander not speak to you?’ Marr replied.
Stanic nodded.
‘Yeah, he came. I mean I thought someone more senior would come yesterday. The other one…well, he didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like he was there to break the news and go. So I assumed someone else would come the next day.’
Marr thought back to what he’d been doing at five PM the day before. He’d been off shift, yes, but he could have come if he’d really wanted to.
‘I’m sorry if you were kept waiting,’ he said, acknowledging the point, ‘Unfortunately, a case like this means we’ve got a lot to do in a short space of time if we’re to catch the killer.’
Stanic shrugged.
‘No matter. I tend to be a bit quieter this time of year anyway. Lots of work I can potentially do, but nothing urgent.’
‘You’re an accountant?’ Marr asked, indicating the shelf of text books in the corner of the room.
Stanic nodded.
‘Yes, but I suppose you know that already. It’s tough at times, but it’s still miles better than working for someone else: all meetings and bullshit. I get to choose my own hours, don’t have to beg permission to go to the dentist, that sort of thing.’
‘Sounds good’ Marr thought, thinking that actually, it sounded better than nice. The thought of picking his own hours, working when he wanted…
But then, there was a baby on the way now. Things had changed a bit.
‘It’s good,’ Stanic was saying. ‘But I suppose you’re not here for advice.’
Marr reached down to grasp his coffee, and gave it a sip. It was strong; really strong.
Stanic smiled, for real this time.
‘Too strong for you?’ he said. He wasn’t goading, but it wasn’t a completely passive question either. There was a hint of aggression buried beneath the surface. Not that it meant much: pubs were full of men prepared to mouth off. Physical violence was something else entirely.
Marr shrugged.
‘Tastes fine to me. Tell me about Anna.’
Stanic’s smile disappeared. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. Nervous energy, thought Marr. Stanic would have a lot of that to deal with in the next few weeks.
‘I keep checking my phone, just in case she’s texted me’ he said. ‘I went to the ASDA round the corner last night. I didn’t need anything: I just wanted to make sure it was still there, that the world was still the same. It didn’t feel like it to me. You never think it’ll happen to someone you know, whatever’s going on in the rest of the world. I mean, those stabbings last year…’
Stanic leant back, unable to relax even though he was visibly trying to. He looked like a job applicant who’d been told to act cool before the big interview.
Yes, the stabbings. Only fifteen minutes down the road from Stanic’s home, Marr thought. Three dead, all multiple knife wounds. Broad daylight in the middle of the street. Nothing concrete to connect the cases. The knife had probably been the same, but that was ha
rdly a revelation. Nobody brought to justice yet, as the papers were frequently able to remind them.
Marr sipped his coffee again, getting used to the harshness. Looking at the way Stanic’s legs were now moving up and down, Marr wondered how many mugs he’d already had in the last twenty four hours.
‘Do you know anybody who might have had a grudge against Anna?’ Marr asked, ‘Anyone who would want to hurt her?’
Stanic thought the question over.
‘No, I don’t think so. I mean, some people didn’t like Anna. She was beautiful, young, successful, pretty well off….that’s enough to get you hated anywhere in the UK.’
‘Did either of you have any financial trouble? Weddings aren’t cheap.’
Stanic laughed.
‘You’re telling me, mate. Twenty-five thousand in the hole. But no, we were OK. I’d saved up quite a bit over the last five years; since I met Anna, really. When you know, you know, and all that. Anna’s dad John helped us out with the rest. He said he’d had an investment pay off, but I think he was just being nice. We were free and clear, basically. Had the honeymoon all planned out; Rome and then Florence.’
Nice, thought Marr; very nice. When he and Lizzie got married, he’d still been a DC and she was between jobs. Bare bones ceremony then a week in Cornwall. It hadn’t mattered to him, but it was hard not to wish he’d been able to give her a more lavish day.
But then they’d had two weeks in New York and a week in Ho Chi Minh City when he got promoted, so swings and roundabouts.
‘How did you get on with Anna’s parents?’ Marr asked.
‘Yeah; really good’, Stanic replied. ‘Well, I thought so anyway. John and Michelle; they’re really nice people. Nicer than Anna, to be honest. She had a ruthless streak, and it didn’t come from John.’
‘And Michelle?’ Marr asked, receiving a shrug in reply.
‘Well, she was quieter than John I suppose, but she was always nice to me. I always felt pretty welcome with them; Christmas, family holidays. We never had any problems. I suppose there’s worse people for a daughter to marry than me.’
Stanic smiled weakly.
‘Did Anna get on OK with your parents?’
Stanic shook his head.
‘No. Well, I don’t mean she didn’t: my Dad died about five years ago, lung cancer. Mum died when I was two. Car crash.’
‘Sorry’ Marr said, Stanic raised his arm in acknowledgement.
‘It was pretty tough. I mean mum…well, what you never have you never miss. But dad, well: I really missed having him around. He helped me get my first job, used to give me tips about running my own business. He was the one that recommended I join the army.’
‘You did service?’
Stanic nodded.
‘Two tours of Afghanistan. Then home, once I decided to get married. I met Anna, and then all I could think about if I stayed on was her getting the phonecall telling her I’d been killed.’
‘You must have been youngish?’ Marr said.
‘Joined up on my eighteenth birthday. If dad hadn’t told me to wait, I’d have applied earlier, probably. Two tours and out.’
With time spent studying and learning accountancy, that probably meant Stanic was in his mid-thirties at least. He didn’t look it
‘Anna’s family were OK with you being ex army?’ Marr asked.
Stanic nodded.
‘We never talked about it much. I’d had ex-girlfriend’s parents try to lecture me once or twice about the war, but John and Michelle were fine. I mean I’m pretty well-off and could look after Anna if a fight broke out. Any protective dad’s dream’
Marr smiled. Stanic was probably right.
‘Caroline Marcus. I’m assuming you’ve met her?’
Stanic nodded again.
‘Yeah, I’ve met her’ he said, taking a big sip from his own mug, ‘She’s nice enough. Bit moody sometimes, but she’s a decent person. Anna’s looked after her quite a lot over the last few years.’
Marr’s brow furrowed. Hadn’t Caroline herself said the same thing to Sam?
‘Looked after, how so?’ Marr asked.
‘Don’t know officially, she didn’t really talk about it. Caroline seemed to have some issues, though. Family, parents, whatever.’
‘Did you and Anna see her much?’
‘No, not really,’ said Stanic, though he was looking away whilst he said it. ‘I mean, we worked together for a bit: I don’t think I’d have met Anna if it wasn’t for Caroline. But she wasn’t around much. My work’s pretty time-consuming, so whenever me and Anna got any time together we wanted to be by ourselves.’
‘What did Anna do for a living?’
‘Marketing manager in the city. She had even less free time than I did, what with the commute. Planning the wedding’s been a pain in the arse to be honest.’
‘Did either of you ever cheat?’
Stanic bristled.
‘Anna would never cheat on me’ he replied, his face halfway to a scowl.
‘That wasn’t what I asked’.
Marr watched Stanic over the rim of his mug. His hands were fidgeting again. He took a slight breath in before he spoke.
‘I cheated on her, once. Month after we first got together; some girl from the gym.’
‘Did Anna know?’
‘No, not a chance. Being honest, it was only because I didn’t think Anna was really into me. I just got my chance with Lucy, and took it. She wasn’t something I could turn down, not at the time: I didn’t think that the thing with Anna was going to go anywhere, so I had to keep my options open.
Marr set his now empty mug down, saying nothing but registering the way Stanic had referred to Lucy as something rather than someone.
‘It was dumb.’ Stanic continued, ‘As soon as I realised Anna was serious, I got rid of Lucy.’
‘Got rid of? I thought you said it happened once.’
A sheepish grin played across Stanic’s face.
‘Well, three times to be honest. Third time wasn’t even really planned; it just sort of happened. I think she was trying to persuade me to stick around.’
Persuade me to stick around…
Marr couldn’t help but think of Sam and her flat the night before. Would she try and persuade him to stick around?
Was there really anything to stick around for?
They’d never talked about it. So what, exactly, was going on? Now there was a baby on the way, would Sam just let him go? The get out of jail free card?
Marr had a feeling he already knew the answer. But not because Sam was vindictive, and not because she was some loser: she was miles away from that.
No, Marr got the feeling Sam might think it was wrong for him to get away with it.
‘Did anyone know about your affair?’ he asked Stanic.
‘Affair?’
‘Fling, whatever you want to call it’.
‘No, no-one knew. We didn’t have any mutual friends. Just one of those things; I suppose I was lucky.’
‘Do you think Anna would have Anna have forgiven you?’ Marr asked, the question out before he’d thought about it.
Stanic raised his eyebrows.
‘Why do you ask?’
Marr shrugged, trying to look like it didn’t matter to him. After a moment, Stanic seemed to relax again.
‘I suppose it doesn’t really matter much now’ he said, ‘but I hope she would have. I really did love Anna. If I’d known we’d end up walking down the aisle I wouldn’t have touched Lucy. I just…it seemed worth taking the risk back then.’
Marr nodded, annoyed at himself for knowing what Stanic meant.
‘Where were you the night Anna was killed?’ Marr asked.
Stanic indicated the room they were sat in.
‘Here. Quiet night in.’
Marr said nothing, but retrieved a small black notebook from his jacket pocket.
Stanic nodded.
‘I know. No alibi. Sorry, I really…I just haven’t got anything clos
e to one. You don’t think I did it, though, do you?’
It was a genuine question. Not an outright statement, or an attempt at persuasion.
Marr’s immediate impression was no. Stanic wasn’t a killer. Well, wasn’t a murderer at any rate: those ten years in the army probably weren’t spent building sandcastles.
For the moment, then, it paid to withhold judgement on him.
‘I can’t comment on that right now; I’m sure you understand.’
Stanic nodded, but looked disappointed. With most murders, the victim knew the killer: it was the husband, or the boyfriend, or the fiancée. Stanic probably knew that, and wanted to get Marr on his side.
‘Gregor, it would help a lot if you could provide any information, anything at all that could be useful to us. Can you think of any reason why Anna would have been out at Hendon House at that time of night?’
Stanic shook his head.
‘I haven’t got a clue. She didn’t text me to say that she was going there. You can check my phone: I haven’t heard from her for a couple of days. She wanted a little break before the wedding, you know: to make it that little bit more special.’
‘And you didn’t mind that?’
‘No, not really.’
‘And you can’t think of anyone she’d been arguing with? No disputes at work, no furious caterers who didn’t get the contract?’
Stanic shook his head.
‘Not at all. I mean, it was chaos. I guess most weddings are. But no, nothing like that. I won’t pretend I wasn’t glad to get away from it for the last couple of days, though. Nothing like sitting on your arse and watching the football for an evening or two.’
Marr smiled.
‘Don’t remind me’ he said.
‘United fan?’
‘For my sins. It’s tough this season; real tough. I don’t think having Giggsy around helps, either: it just reminds me of what used to be.’
‘Wouldn’t worry about it’ Stanic said, ‘I’m still not entirely over King Kenny leaving.’
They talked for a few more minutes about football before Marr made his excuses and left, still unsure about Anna Markham’s nearly-widower. He’d not seemed too badly shook up, but then he was exactly the sort of man who would bottle it all up.
