Stalked By Shadows

by Chris Collett

  Millie went back to Lucy’s house and found her upstairs staring at the computer screen. Her in-box was stuffed with junk emails, mostly with a similar parental theme, along with the acknowledgements for registering with several Internet dating sites.

  ‘I keep getting these replies from some new mothers’ forum.’ She pointed at the screen. ‘But I haven’t joined those sites, why on earth would I?’

  ‘This person is trying to unnerve you, Lucy, that’s the intention. Try not to let it get to you.’ But even as she said it Millie knew what a tall order that was.

  ‘I feel so foolish.’ Lucy dragged her fingers through her hair. ‘I’m meant to be an intelligent and confident woman, yet I feel like a wreck, and all because of a bit of stupid post.’

  As if to underline the point, the phone rang and Lucy jumped out of her skin. ‘It’s him! It’s happening again! How does he know I’m here?’

  ‘He might not,’ said Millie calmly. ‘And I’m here now anyway. Let me.’ She picked up the ringing phone. ‘Hello?’

  A woman’s voice responded uncertainly: ‘Hi, is that Lucy?’

  ‘No,’ said Millie. ‘Can I ask who’s calling?’

  ‘Sure, it’s Tess Maguire. I was actually hoping to catch Will before he leaves. Is he there?’ With the hint of an Irish accent, this woman sounded bright and relaxed. Millie was sure this wasn’t their nuisance caller. ‘Just a moment,’ she said. Covering the mouthpiece, she said, ‘It’s someone called Tess, for Will?’

  Lucy had recovered enough to roll her eyes in response. ‘Tell her I’ll ask him to call her back when he gets in, or to try his mobile. At least it means he hasn’t gone running to her.’

  ‘Did you think he might have?’

  ‘No, not really.’

  Millie did as she was bidden and ended the call. ‘Who is she?’ she asked Lucy.

  ‘She sings with the band,’ Lucy said, making it sound as if that was a bad thing. ‘She calls him quite a lot.’

  ‘Are they close?’ Millie asked.

  Again the defences came up. ‘Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but Will and Tess go back a long time, they’re old friends, and that’s it.’

  ‘I’m not implying anything, Lucy,’ Millie said calmly. ‘I just want to find out what’s going on.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry.’

  ‘What’s bothering you, Lucy?’

  Lucy sighed heavily. ‘The other night, when I called Will, there was a woman nearby. As I ended the call I heard her say, “Kiss me, baby.” It was like she said it when she thought he’d switched off his phone.’

  ‘You sure she was talking to Will?’

  ‘I can’t be sure, of course, but it was very close.’

  ‘Was it Tess?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but I couldn’t be sure.’

  ‘Where do you think Will went last night?’ Millie asked.

  ‘I don’t know. To Leigh’s probably. I guess he’ll go straight to the gig from there.’

  Millie glanced down at the computer. ‘We could really do with taking this in to the station, so that our technicians can do a thorough search of the hard drive. That way we may be able to trace back to where some of these emails have come from.’

  If it were possible, Lucy looked even more stricken. ‘I don’t think Will would like that. He uses it a lot when he’s at home, dealing with correspondence for the band, setting up gigs and all that. ’

  And the rest, thought Millie. ‘Whose computer is it?’

  ‘Well, it was mine before Will moved in, obviously, but -’

  ‘Well, then, with respect, it’s your decision, Lucy. Can I take it now? The quicker we do it, the quicker I can get it back to you. Will may never even need to know.’ Millie was more than aware that she was taking advantage of Lucy’s vulnerability, bulldozing her like this, but there were several reasons why she wanted their technicians to examine Will Jarrett’s online habits. ‘It won’t take long, I promise.’

  What else could Lucy do but cave in? She shut down the computer and between them they disconnected it so that Millie could take it away.

  As Millie turned to leave the room, something glinted out on the street and caught her eye, but, when she peered more closely out of the window, she couldn’t determine what it was that she’d seen.

  Having stowed the computer safely in her boot, along with all the junk mail, Millie waited while Lucy locked up the house, and watched her drive away and back to work. She was just starting up her own car, when, in her rearview mirror she noticed some activity around the silver Honda. A woman was standing behind the open boot, heaving in a wet and dry vacuum cleaner and what looked like a couple of baskets of multi-coloured dusters. She wore a green tabard, and Millie realised that this must be the estate’s ‘little treasure’. Millie wondered if she regularly serviced houses in the area. If she did, she was the kind of person who just might notice what went on. Weighing up the pros and cons of disclosure, Millie decided that the advantages were more. She got back out of her car, warrant card at the ready, and retraced her steps along the road. She suddenly wondered what Suli would think about the idea of them having a cleaner. The parents would disapprove, of course, but he’d probably be OK and it would make her life a whole lot easier.

  As Millie got close to the car a gust of wind snatched a couple of dusters out of the woman’s basket and blew them down the pavement towards her. Millie deftly caught them and passed them back to the woman.

  ‘Thanks.’ The woman smiled. ‘It’s really blowing one today, isn’t it?’ Though not especially tall, she was a large woman and still slightly breathless from the exertion of loading the vacuum. Her hair was tied back behind a head-scarf making it difficult to ascertain her age, though Millie would have said in her sixties.

  ‘No problem,’ Millie said. ‘You do cleaning round here?’

  ‘Yes, and I know what you’re going to ask.’ The woman gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have any vacancies at the moment. I clean for people elsewhere as well as on this estate.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re in demand,’ Millie said.

  ‘It’s one of those things that people never have enough time for these days, and people know I’m reliable and trustworthy. If I had a pound for everyone who’s asked me to do for them . . .’ She shook her head. ‘Everyone thinks I can just squeeze in one more, but I really can’t; not and do a proper job of it.’

  ‘Who do you clean for in this street?’ Millie asked.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Harrison at number thirty-one and Mr Coyle at number eight, and I have a few other clients on the estate, on Woodcroft Road, and Larch Crescent.’ She gestured with her head further into the estate. ‘As far as I know they have no plans to change that arrangement in the near future.’

  ‘So you must spend some time around here.’

  ‘Yes, I’m here three days.’ She was wondering where the conversation was going now.

  Millie lifted her warrant card so that the woman could see. ‘I’m not actually looking for a cleaner,’ she admitted. ‘Or at least I wasn’t. We’re investigating some unwanted phone calls that the person at number nineteen is getting. It’s possible that she may be being followed too. Have you noticed anyone suspicious hanging around at all just lately?’ Millie asked. ‘Or any cars that you wouldn’t normally expect to see?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘No. It’s generally very quiet here during the day. Most people are out at work. And I’d notice anyone different hanging about - they’d really stand out.’

  ‘It’s what I thought,’ said Millie, turning to go, ‘thanks, anyway.’

  At the last minute she turned back again. ‘Out of interest, ’ she asked, ‘if you did have any vacancies, would you go out as far as Hall Green?’

  The woman laughed. ‘I would, but I’m not kidding. I’m completely full at the moment, couldn’t fit another client in.’ She sighed and gave a wry smile. ‘But if you want to give me your contact details ju
st in case -’

  Millie took out a business card. ‘Thanks, and, if you should happen to think of anything, give me a call on that number anyway, will you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Estelle Waters lived in a private flat behind electronic gates, with a security guard who gave Mariner a thorough visual going over before he went in, directing him to the correct one of the three huge blocks. No question here of the lifts not working, and he was elevated smoothly to the fifth floor. Waiting for a response to the doorbell, Mariner could hear the yapping of a small hound, and, as Ms Waters opened the door, a bundle of fur came hurtling out at him, did a couple of circuits of his feet, then bolted back into the flat, where it vanished.

  ‘You’ve got a good guard dog there,’ Mariner remarked, showing his warrant card.

  ‘He wouldn’t last five minutes with a burglar.’ Estelle smiled. ‘All bark and no bite. Please, come in, Inspector.’

  The apartment smelled of furniture polish and some kind of strong floral scent that Mariner couldn’t identify, and heavy dark-wood furniture and dull soft furnishings rendered it dark and gloomy, but for the impressive views from a wide window over leafy Edgbaston, towards the county cricket ground. Estelle Waters was at odds with her surroundings, dressed as she was in light-grey slacks and a pale-yellow sweater and a pair of flat, trainer-type shoes, as if she was just about to go out and play golf. Her naturally greying hair was cut stylishly short, and her lined face had a light, healthy tan. There was a certain gentility and, when she offered him tea, Mariner just knew that it would be Earl Grey served on a tray, with a teapot and bone china cups. Throughout the interview she clutched a crushed tissue in her fist, releasing it every so often to dab at her eyes and nose.

  ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said, when they had settled, Mariner in a hard, overstuffed armchair and she on the sofa opposite.

  ‘It was you who raised the alarm, I understand,’ Mariner said.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Nina and I were supposed to have met for afternoon tea on the Monday, but she didn’t come. She would never miss one of our get-togethers without letting me know why. Then when I rang her house there was no reply, so I knew that something must be badly wrong. I rang around a few people, but no one seemed to have seen or heard from her for a few days. I could have gone round perhaps, but I don’t drive and, whilst it’s not far, it’s not at all a direct journey on public transport. I thought long and hard about contacting your service, Inspector; I’m well aware of the time-wasters you must get, but I felt I was justified.’ She turned her gaze to Mariner, her pale-blue eyes misted with tears. ‘I thought at worst that perhaps she had fallen or something, I had no idea it would turn out to be so awful.’ She brought the tissue to her face to stem the tears.

  ‘It’s a good thing you were so vigilant,’ Mariner said gently. He sipped his tea before saying, ‘You and Nina were obviously close friends.’

  She nodded wordlessly.

  ‘Were you aware of anything that was bothering her?’

  ‘I don’t know about bothering her,’ said Estelle. ‘She’d suffered a bit of ill health recently, and I think the school was getting her down a bit.’

  ‘Why do you think that was?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘It was hard work, and I think was less successful than it had been, but then, getting her MBE, she was thrilled to bits about that. It had given her a real lift. All of us in fact.’ She smiled.

  ‘All of you?’

  ‘Three of us meet up regularly; Nina, me and Madge Llewellyn. It’s a bit of silliness really, we call ourselves the “Golden Girls” and we all go out together regularly, dinner and the theatre, that kind of thing. Madge will be devastated when she gets back. I haven’t been able to reach her yet.’

  ‘She’s away?’

  ‘Yes, on holiday for a month. She and Donald are doing one of those tours of the United States. Madge was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, but just before Christmas she was given the all-clear, so they’re celebrating.’

  ‘How did you all meet?’ asked Mariner.

  ‘Through our husbands; we were thrown together at the same business functions years ago and we just seemed to gel.’

  ‘So you’ve known each other a long time,’ Mariner observed.

  She nodded in agreement. ‘Must be thirty years or more, through thick and thin; my divorce, Madge’s illness. We’ve all supported each other, come what may.’

  ‘Nina must have been glad of that, eighteen years ago, when her husband died.’

  ‘Of course, you must have known Ronnie.’

  It was, Mariner supposed, a reasonable assumption, from her point of view. ‘I knew of him,’ he said, ‘though we never met. That must have been a difficult time for Nina.’

  ‘It was awful; those allegations being made at the same time too, and completely unfounded.’

  ‘You sound very sure of that,’ Mariner said.

  ‘I knew Ronnie,’ Estelle Waters said simply and Mariner could only admire her blind loyalty.

  ‘So you must also know Rachel.’

  Estelle smiled. ‘Yes, all our kids grew up together really. We used to spend time together as families.’

  ‘Was Rachel close to her stepmother, would you say?’

  ‘Oh yes. Nina didn’t have it easy at first, but they grew very close. I think Rachel just regarded her as she would have her natural mother. After all, her own mother wasn’t much of a role model.’ She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. ‘Rachel was quite an indulged child, not surprisingly I suppose, being an “only”. We did witness some spectacular tantrums when she was little, if for any reason she couldn’t get her own way. And it was Ronnie who was the indulgent one, perhaps because of what had happened with her mum. Nina was always quite firm and felt that Rachel should stand on her own two feet, whereas Ronnie would have given her anything.’

  ‘And you can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt Nina like this, for any reason?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘To be honest, Inspector, I’d be quite horrified to think that anyone I know could be capable of such a dreadful thing,’ Estelle said, her emotions getting the better of her again.

  Mariner had one more sensitive area to explore. ‘Nina’s husband had been dead a long time and she was an attractive woman.’ He replaced his empty cup on the tray. ‘Are you aware that she had any male friends?’

  Estelle flushed. ‘Not that I knew of, though I suppose it’s possible. She had her admirers, of course, and there was -’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It was probably nothing. I ran into her once, some time ago, in town and she was with a man then. She said he was her cousin, but there was something odd about the way she introduced him.’ She paused for a moment, thoughtful. ‘She didn’t tell me his name. I remember thinking at the time that it was peculiar. Normally when you introduce someone you say, “This is my cousin Fred,” don’t you? But she just said, “This is my cousin. He’s staying for a few days.” And I got a definite impression that she couldn’t wait to get away from me.’

  ‘And you didn’t know who this man might be?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘What did he look like?’

  ‘Middle aged; about our age, I suppose.’ Mariner hoped by ‘our’ she meant herself and Nina. ‘He was quite tall and thickset, and his hair was dark, but going thin on top. He was well dressed, in a suit I think. In fact, I remember thinking that he looked as if he should be at work, a solicitor perhaps.’

  ‘And how long ago would this have been?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘Oh, it was some time. It must have been soon after Ronnie’s death but I can’t be sure. The time goes so fast when you get to our age.’

  Mariner stood up to go. ‘Thank you, Estelle, you’ve been very helpful.’

  ‘You will catch the man who did this, won’t you?’ she asked, seeing him out.

  ‘I hope so,’ said Mariner. It was the best he could do.

  CHAPTER EIGHT


  Driving over to his rendezvous with Tony Knox, Mariner felt frustrated by the lack of progress. Nina Silvero’s body lying undiscovered for twenty-four hours, and the initial suicide theory had lost them valuable time, and now, coming up to three days on from the murder, they seemed to have gained little ground.

  The dance school was held in one of the many Quaker meeting houses in the south Birmingham area, set back behind a row of houses within an acre of impressively tended gardens. Mariner had hoped to catch Susan Brady before the class began, and was pleased to see that the only other vehicle in the car park was Knox’s pool car.

  Walking across to the building, Mariner updated Knox with the little he had learned from Estelle Waters. ‘How’s it going with the paperwork?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, I haven’t found the signed confession from the killer yet, if that’s what you mean, boss,’ said Knox. ‘The finances all seem to be in order and the bank have talked me through her statements, which seem pretty straightforward. She’d paid off her mortgage and had a reasonable income from her state pension along with the salary she was drawing from the dancing school. Quite a few investments too. The estate will be worth a tidy sum.’

  Mariner’s phone pinged.

  ‘That your admirer again?’ asked Knox. He took Mariner’s lack of response as confirmation. ‘If you don’t want to see her again you should let her know.’