‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.’ She patted his hand.
But she didn’t look fine. The vacant look in her eyes worried him. If Emma had been there it wouldn’t have mattered, but his sister had already left for the university and Diane would be alone. He hesitated, worry niggling at the back of his brain, he shouldn’t leave her while she was in this state, but what choice did he have.
‘If you’re sure . . . ’
‘I’m sure. You’d better go. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of Tony.’
Ryan nodded. He regretted agreeing to provide a web site for Tony, but it would have been a bigger mistake to refuse. Tony wasn’t someone you could say no to.
Ryan drove past the front of Teasers, and into the alley at the side which led to the car park. It was too early for many cars to be parked there, and he slid his car into a space beside a clapped out Ford Ka. Turning the engine off he got out and looked around for the back door he had been instructed to use.
The door was opened by a smallish girl with magenta streaked brown hair. But even though she was small, she still topped him by about an inch.
‘Tony asked me to come,’ he said, unsure of himself.
She looked him up and down. ‘You’ll be the Carnegie guy, I take it. Follow me.’
The door swung shut behind him. ‘I’m here for the photoshoot. Are you one of the dancers?’
She laughed. ‘Me, a showgirl? You’ve got to be joking. No, it’s Angel who’s been set up for the shoot. I’m Kara.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I just thought . . . ’
‘Don’t think. Tony won’t pay you extra for that. What’s your first name, by the way?’
‘Ryan.’
He followed her up the dark corridor and out into the main entrance hall. Daylight filtered in from window slits above the closed front doors, making the whole place look dingy.
She led him upstairs to the night club. It looked just as shabby, and a far cry from the evening glamour. The place was empty except for a bored looking girl, wearing only a g-string, sitting on the edge of the glass stage.
‘That’s Angel.’ Kara walked towards the stage, followed by Ryan.
The girl looked up at their approach, flicking her long blonde hair away from her face so it cascaded down her back. Her makeup was perfect. Large blue eyes made larger by the eyeliner she wore, pink lipstick with the slightest sheen, and a complexion that looked natural until seen up close.
Ryan wanted to ask her what she used and how she achieved such a perfect result, but didn’t dare.
As if she sensed his interest, she leaned backwards, placing her hands flat on the stage and arching her back so her breasts jutted forward.
Ryan shuffled his feet, and felt the heat rise from his neck into his face. He had never been near a woman who was almost naked. To mask his embarrassment, he slung his knapsack onto a table and started to assemble his camera, screwing the extra lenses into place.
The girl rose and walked over to him, studying what he was doing. He felt her breast brush against his arm, and he almost choked.
‘I’ll be over at the bar, checking stock, if you need me.’ Kara’s voice had a strangled sound and he knew she was suppressing a giggle. She walked off and he was left alone with Angel.
‘What d’you want me to do?’ Angel removed a piece of chewing gum from her mouth and stuck it under a table top.
‘I’ll need you to dance, like you do at night.’ Ryan tried to keep his voice steady. ‘But, for the video, it might be better if you wore something on top.’
‘You mean a bra?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK, give me a minute.’
She returned wearing a black bra that barely covered her breasts. ‘This do?’
Ryan nodded. ‘What about music, what do we do about that? And lighting?’
‘Phil, where the fuck are you?’ Angel shouted into the gloom of the club.
The tall blond guy Ryan remembered from previous visits appeared.
‘Ah, look who we have here,’ he said. ‘I knew you’d come back.’
A tremble shivered through Ryan’s body. His limbs felt like jelly, while the heat rose upwards into his neck and face. Why did this man have such an effect on him?
‘I need the stage set up for the photo shoot, lighting and music,’ he mumbled. ‘The video has to replicate the type of show you have in the evening, plus I want some action photos.’
Phil strode to the end of the room. First the up-lighting under the stage snapped on, and then the glitter-ball started to spin. When the music started, Angel got on the stage and began to dance. ‘Now fuck off, Phil,’ she shouted as she writhed round the silver pole, and turning her head towards Ryan, she said, ‘anytime you’re ready, darling.’
The photoshoot didn’t take long, and Ryan was packing up after it when Kara came over to him. ‘Everything go OK?’
‘Yes. I think I’ve got enough photos and video to add to the web site.’
‘D’you mind if I say something?’
Ryan looked up. ‘No, what is it?’
She looked embarrassed. ‘I saw the way Phil looked at you,’ she said. ‘I wanted to warn you, he can be dangerous. You don’t want to get involved with him.’
‘Oh!’ He didn’t know what to say. His stomach was still churning because of the effect Phil had on him.
‘Just saying,’ she said. ‘Now if you’re ready to leave I’ll show you out.’
He followed her down the stairs and, after thanking her, he turned towards the corridor leading to the car park.
The guy patrolling the corridor reached for the bunch of keys dangling from his belt. ‘You’d be better going out the front, mate, cos your car ain’t there. The old bird who took it said to let you know.’
* * * *
Kate finished reading Bill’s report and slotted it into the file on the John Doe’s murder. It had given her a lot to think about and, while she thought Diane Carnegie could be involved, she was by no means certain. However, it was a strand of the investigation that could not be ignored, although it would have to be handled delicately. DS Murphy was already involved with the family so, despite her reservations about him, he was the logical choice of officer to follow it up.
She walked over to the window that looked into the team room. DS Murphy and DC Blair Armstrong were huddled together at the end of the room, and she observed them pointing to the computer screen. Their body language was animated and she felt her own excitement rise. They’d found something.
It only took Kate a moment to leave the office, and cross the team room. ‘What is it? What have you found?’
‘We’ve got a time for the van arriving, plus a sighting of the victim and his killer.’
‘Good, that will give us something to work with.’ Kate peered over their shoulders. ‘Can you see enough to get a description?’
‘Only of the victim, ma’am, the killer’s face is obscured by a hoodie. I think he knows where the cameras are.’
‘Have you looked at CCTV from inside the mall?’
‘We’ve done the garage, so far. We still have to view the other images.’
‘Well, get on with it. No not you, Murphy, I’ve something else for you to do. Armstrong can continue with this.’
Kate did not miss the expression of panic in the constable’s eyes. ‘You do know how to access the other CCTV files, I trust?’
DC Armstrong froze, reminding Kate of a rabbit paralysed by headlights.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, get Cartwright to help you locate them and you do the inspection of the footage.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ his relief was obvious.
‘Murphy, we are going out to interview Mrs Carnegie’s mother-in-law. We need to find out Mr Carnegie’s whereabouts.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Chapter Eighteen
Jade stepped out the front door pausing to inhale all the aromas bombarding her senses. The scent of next door’s cat, a whiff of smoke
from someone’s chimney, the faintest of fragrances from the spring flowers, even the smell of petrol fumes. She savoured them all.
It was good to be out in the fresh air after such a long time in the dark place.
The sharp wind made her pull her jacket closer to her body, and she clutched the edge of the hood to prevent it from blowing back and revealing her face. She didn’t want the neighbours to see her. It was important to keep her presence hidden.
With that in mind, she walked to a bus stop three streets away from the house. Several people waited in the queue in front of her, which was useful, because she copied them when it was time for her to pay. So much had changed since she was last here and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself.
Leaving the bus at Primark in the city centre, she wandered past Samuel, the jewellery shop, and on into the High Street. Marks and Spencer hadn’t changed much, but the Woolworths store opposite had gone. She used to love wandering round Woolworths with Emma. That’s where they spent their Saturday money, and occasionally pocketed some of the smaller items, for the fun of it.
She turned her face resolutely to the top of the street. It was time she was at the Wellgate Centre, she wanted to arrive before her target did, and she couldn’t afford to spend any more time thinking of how things used to be.
When she left the dark place to return to Dundee, it had been with a specific purpose in mind, and she couldn’t lose sight of that.
The downstairs part of the mall was busy which suited her fine. Pulling her hood closer to her face she joined the crowds. Thinking back to when she had been here before, she remembered the restaurants and cafes were on an upper level so she headed for the escalators. It wasn’t as busy on this level and she wandered along it, stopping now and then to study shop windows, but always alert to the people around her. It was a pity she hadn’t come here before arranging to meet her new mark, Simon he said his name was, because the Wellgate she remembered had been much busier.
Once more she scanned the scattering of people roaming the mall, but couldn’t see anyone carrying a Harry Potter book. Maybe he’d decided to check the place out before making himself known; maybe he’d kept his book hidden until he was sure it wasn’t a police trap.
Jade preferred to see her mark first so she had the advantage, but this time it looked as if she’d have to make the first move. Sighing, she pulled the Harry Potter book out of her knapsack and tucked it under her arm.
The café area was behind her and off to her right. It sat in the centre with shops flanking it on all sides, and was surrounded by a wooden partition that resembled a garden fence. It was too open. The cafes and restaurants she remembered from years before had been much more private. Here, there was nowhere to hide. It had been a bad choice for a meet.
She sauntered over and leaned her elbows on the partition, surveying the afternoon coffee drinkers, but no one seemed to resemble her mark. She frowned, trying to decide whether to join them or give up. But she’d come this far and she was reluctant to lose a mark she’d carefully set up, so she entered the cafeteria area and bought a cup of tea taking it to a seat beside the barrier separating the tables from the shoppers.
She sipped her tea and sized up the other customers, but no one matched her idea of what the mark would look like. He was late, maybe he wasn’t coming.
She placed the Harry Potter book on the table beside her. She would give him another fifteen minutes, then she would go.
* * * *
Bill hadn’t got over his surprise at the DI’s decision to partner him on the interview because, since she arrived, she’d been trying to undermine him. When she indicated they take his car and he should drive, he was even more surprised.
The traffic wasn’t too bad and he drove in silence, while the DI sat beside him deep in thought. He sneaked a look at her trying to suss out what was in her mind, but she was giving nothing away. They were almost at the address Diane Carnegie had given them and he hadn’t a clue how Kate intended to handle the interview, or what she wanted him to do. Maybe this was another ploy to cut him down to size. He tightened his lips and decided he would follow her lead.
He turned off the road, drove through a pair of ornamental iron gates, and followed the tree-lined drive until they reached a fairly large three-storey house. ‘We’re here, ma’am,’ he said, slowing to a stop outside the front entrance.
‘You have your notebook with you?’
Bill patted his pocket to make sure he hadn’t forgotten it. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said with a sigh of relief, glad to have escaped getting the sharp side of her tongue, although he would much prefer to be the one interviewing rather than the note-taker. But it looked like the DI would be in charge and he’d be the patsy taking the notes.
By the time he got out of the car the DI was ringing the doorbell. A curtain twitched at the window on his left, and a few minutes later the door opened.
The woman standing in the doorway was slim and attractive, and appeared younger than the one they were looking for. Her black dress hugged her figure and, although she was small in stature, her five inch heels made her look taller. She seemed familiar, and Bill wondered if he’d met her before, but then realized she reminded him of Joan Collins. As he got nearer, he realized she wasn’t as young as she appeared, and under the makeup she was as old as the ageing film star. Her hair, long and dark, brushed her shoulders in a mass of curls. Was it a wig? Bill found it impossible to tell.
‘Can I help you?’ The woman’s face showed no emotion.
Kate produced her warrant card. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Rawlings, and this is Detective Sergeant Murphy. We’re looking for Mrs Carnegie?’
‘You’ve found her. What can I do for you?’ She looked at them with a lack of curiosity showing in her face, which still showed no movement. Bill moved closer trying to see any tell tale scars indicating she might have had a facelift, but her hair covered her neck and ears. Of course, it might be botox. That would explain the lack of expression.
‘We’d like to ask you a few questions about your son, Paul Carnegie.’ Kate’s voice sounded stiff and unnatural.
‘Oh my! Is he in trouble?’ The woman placed a hand on her chest in a theatrical gesture.
‘May we come in? It would be better than discussing this on the doorstep.’ Kate took a step forward.
‘Of course.’ Mrs Carnegie led them into a large sitting room furnished with a white leather sofa and armchairs, a drinks cabinet in the corner of the room, and a glass coffee table. A large painting of Mrs Carnegie, looking considerably younger, hung above an ornate marble fireplace.
She gestured for them to sit. Kate chose an armchair while Bill perched on the edge of a sofa.
‘Can I get you something? A drink perhaps, or a coffee?’
She moved closer to Bill. Her eyes were deep violet, edged with dark eyeliner, and lids shaded a deeper colour of purple. It gave the impression they were large and glowing, and they were focused on him.
He reached into his pocket for his notebook trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid her stare.
‘No thank you.’ There was an edge to Kate’s voice. ‘If you don’t mind we’ll get on with the interview and then we can leave you in peace.’
‘Interview? Is that what this is? I thought you wanted to know about Paul.’
‘Yes, but we also wanted to check what you remember about your granddaughter’s disappearance.’
‘That was a long time ago.’
Bill thought he detected a fleeting expression of alarm in her eyes, but he might have been mistaken.
Kate leaned forward in her chair. ‘The case has been reopened.’
‘What’s the point of that after all this time?’
‘I would have thought you would have been pleased.’
Mrs Carnegie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Why should I be? Paul was far better off once he got rid of that set of leeches.’
Kate seemed momentarily speechless, and Bill leaned forward in his seat to say, �
��That’s a strange way to refer to your grandchildren.’
Mrs Carnegie ignored him and it was as if she were speaking to herself. ‘He should never have married that bitch. He was far better off living with me. I gave him everything and he left me for her.’ She strode to the fireplace and reached a hand up to finger the portrait. ‘I gave up my career for him and his father.’ She turned to face them. ‘I was a famous actress, you know, and I gave it all up for them. And how do they repay me? My husband ups and dies, and my son leaves me for her.’ She was panting and her eyes had a wild look. ‘It was a good day when Jade,’ she spat the name, ‘disappeared. It brought my son back to me.’
‘I see,’ Kate said in a measured tone. ‘Well, if you can tell us where we can find Mr Carnegie, we’ll leave you in peace.’
Chapter Nineteen
He had been watching her ever since she sat down in the café. At first he wasn’t sure but she brought out the book and laid it on the table. All doubts left his mind. It was her. He circled the café, trying to see her face but it was well hidden by the hood on her jacket, and he hesitated to approach her. After a narrow call last month when he’d almost fallen into a police honey trap, he’d been ultra-cautious.
He slipped into a shop doorway and continued to watch her. He saw the frequent looks at her watch, the impatient tap of her feet, and the resigned shrug of her shoulders when she decided he wasn’t coming.
She rose, tucked the book into her knapsack, slung it over her shoulder, and left the café. He followed and was close behind her when she reached the escalator. His fingers itched, now was the time to find out whether she was genuine.
He descended a step, stretched out a hand and yanked the hood away from her face. His eyes widened and he found it difficult to breathe. Panic beat a tattoo in his chest. The face was not one he wanted to see, for this was no child who had been waiting for him. The escalator continued downward but already he was running, pushing past the others who were in his way. He leapt off the end of it and didn’t stop running until he was well clear of the Wellgate centre.
Missing Believed Dead Page 10
