The Look of Love

by David George Richards

  “I wonder who they think it is, then?”

  “I hope it isn’t anybody we know,” Louise said thoughtfully. “I’d hate that.”

  “Nah! It’ll be some nutter,” Victoria replied. “Who do we know who would want to hurt Jo? It has to be some nutter. There are plenty out there.”

  Louise wasn’t convinced. “They always say that most people are killed by someone they know. It can be a neighbour or a friend. Or even husbands, wives, or boyfriends. Even parents. You see it all the time on the telly. They appear in tears, begging for someone to come forward to help the police. Then a month later it turns out to be them in the first place.”

  When Louise finished talking Victoria didn’t say anything. Louise looked across and saw her sad expression. What she had said suddenly dawned on her.

  “Oh, Vikki!” she exclaimed. She put her mug of hot chocolate down on the table and quickly embraced her. “I didn’t mean you! Stop thinking like that! Please!”

  Victoria smiled weakly. “It’s alright,” she said as Louise fussed over her. “I’m not upset, really. It just made me think that’s all. Maybe you’re right. Maybe more people are killed by someone they know, or because of someone they know. You have to hate someone to kill them don’t you?”

  “But who could hate Jo?”

  Louise’s question made Victoria shiver.

  They didn’t stay up much longer after that. They finished their hot chocolate and went to bed. They slept together in Louise’s bedroom. But although they shared the same bed, there was no sex that night. It never even crossed their minds as they slept in one another’s arms, both happy and comforted to know that they were not alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Eye Witness

  Mike Geddes turned himself in at the police station within an hour of the news story about Jo’s murder. It was just as well, as several people had already rung in to say that they knew him and where he lived.

  Shawcroft interviewed him that night. Mike was sixteen, with fair hair and a fading black-eye. He was very nervous despite Shawcroft’s insistence that he was only helping them with their inquiries.

  “That usually means you’re going to arrest me,” Mike said.

  “Did you kill Joanne Henshaw?” Shawcroft asked him bluntly.

  Mike looked terrified at just hearing the question. “No!” he said quickly and nervously. “I did nothing! I didn’t even know she was dead until I saw the news!”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  Shawcroft switched on the tape recorder, stated the time and who was present, then started the interview.

  “Tell me what happened when you met Joanne.”

  Mike took a while to tell his story, but slowly, it all came out.

  “I was in the club with a few mates when I saw her dancing with another girl. She was real pretty. A real looker. She had on a dead short dress. She had nice legs. Nice face. I fancied her, so I got one of my mates to come with me and we danced with her and her friend for a bit. She was older than me, and my mates had told me that she would probably turn me down, but she didn’t. Her friend soon went off, but she stayed and danced with me. She seemed to like me. We started kissing in a corner. She was real friendly, real nice. We were kissing for ages. She let me touch her. She wasn’t wearing much under that dress. I liked her lots.

  “When we left together my mates were all dead jealous. We bumped into the other girl, her friend, outside. She was with another girl who was being sick. She was in a bit of a mess. She must have been dead drunk. I didn’t pay them much attention. I’d had a few drinks, and anyway, I was more interested in Jo. I liked her lots, and I couldn’t wait to get her home.”

  “You went home?” Shawcroft asked quickly.

  “No. I wanted to. I was dead eager. She was real nice. But Jo wanted to go for a curry first, so that’s what we did.”

  “Where did you go for this curry?”

  “We went to the Hanaan restaurant in Rusholme. She was dead hungry. I hardly had enough money for the bill. But she just laughed and gave me some of hers. We had a nice time, really. She told me about her friends and what she was doing at University. She didn’t care that I was younger than her. Some girls can be a bit stroppy about that, or if you haven’t got enough money. But she was dead nice. I liked her lots.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “We caught the all night bus to Stretford. I was walking her home when that boyfriend of hers turned up and ruined it all.”

  Shawcroft felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. “What was his name?” he quickly demanded, trying his best to keep calm when he was so eager to hear the answer. “Did Joanne call him by his name?”

  Mike nodded. “Yeah, it was Max.”

  “Could you identify him if you saw him again?”

  “Yeah. He was bigger than me. And angry. He smacked me in the eye and knocked me down.” Mike put his hand up to his bruised face as he spoke. “Jo kept pushing him away. She told him to leave me alone, but he kept shouting at me, and trying to kick me when I was on the ground. Finally Jo told me I better go. I didn’t want to, but he was bigger than me. And he was her boyfriend.” The tears began to well up in his eyes as he began to realise the truth. “He didn’t kill her did he? I liked her. She was real nice to me. He did kill her, didn’t he? If I’d stayed to help her she might still be alive. Oh, shit! I let her get killed! Oh, God! Oh, no…shit…”

  Mike collapsed in a flood of tears. There was no questioning him after that. But Shawcroft already had what he wanted. He was so pleased he telephoned Connors at home almost immediately.

  Connors sighed as he heard the phone ring. He was halfway through his dinner. Pie, chips and gravy purchased from the local chip-shop on the way home, and a can of Boddingtons to wash it all down. He put his knife and fork down and answered the phone.

  Shawcroft said hello, apologised for ringing him so late, then quickly told him what had happened. Connors listened carefully, and didn’t speak until Shawcroft had finished.

  “Hmmm. So, those surveillance tapes from the night-club came up trumps,” he said over the phone.

  “That and the TV broadcast,” Shawcroft replied. “He couldn’t wait to give himself up. You were right all along. It was Max Headly. But now that we have Mike Geddes’s statement, we’ve got him.”

  Connors wasn’t so convinced. “Scott Headly worries me. If he and Max stick to their story, we could still be in trouble. Their parents and their solicitor will stick by them, so it won’t be easy.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Get Max in tomorrow. Organise a line up. If Mike Geddes can pick him out, then I think we’ll have him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Tuesday

  Neither Louise nor Victoria really fancied going to University that morning. But Mrs Thorne had said that classes would resume today, so in they had to go. Louise said that it was probably for the best, anyway. If they stayed at home they would only dwell on it more. Victoria was slower getting out of bed, but she finally agreed.

  “If you want to know the truth,” she said to Louise as they sat together on the tram. “It’s seeing Chrissy that I’m dreading the most. If she attacks me again, I’ll die.”

  Louise had forgotten all about Chrissy. She told Victoria not to worry, but by the time they reached class, Louise was just as worried as she was.

  Chrissy was already there. She was sitting next to Angela, and as soon as she saw them, she stood up and came towards them. Everyone else in the class stared, waiting for the inevitable.

  Victoria braced herself, her eyes closed, and Louise quickly stepped between her and Chrissy. She wondered why Angela didn’t come to help her, but Chrissy answered that question.

  “Oh, don’t worry!” she told Louise. “I’m not going to attack her.”

  Victoria tentatively opened one eye. There was no fist on the way, so she opened her other eye.

  Chrissy stood in front of Victor
ia, her hands on her hips. “I ought to hit you again,” she said. “You do deserve it. You’re a daft, stupid, destructive cow. But Jo getting killed wasn’t your fault. Well, not really. You didn’t help, that’s all. But it wasn’t down to you.”

  Victoria was both amazed and tearful. “But I did split her and Max up,” she protested. “He would have walked her home if not. It was my fault–”

  “It was Max that killed her!” Chrissy interrupted, her voice raised.

  Victoria just stared at her in shock, and Louise was heart-broken.

  “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “Not Max? Not her own boyfriend?”

  “Yes, Max!” Chrissy snapped at her. “The wonderful Max who bought us drinks on Friday night!”

  Louise began to cry, her hand pressed over her mouth. Victoria came out of her temporary shock and put her arms around her, pulling her close. Louise cried on her shoulder. Angela got up and quickly came over to join them. She started to cry too, leaning on Louise’s shoulder.

  Chrissy was filled with remorse for her harsh words. She slumped down in a chair at a nearby desk. “Oh, bugger,” she muttered.

  Victoria looked sadly at Chrissy. “She dreaded the idea that it might be someone she knew. I don’t think I really understood why until now. It’s horrible.”

  “Yeah,” Chrissy said with a sigh. “The worse thing about it is that Jo really liked him. She hadn’t stopped talking about him since she met him. She even wanted me to go out with his brother. She had this weird idea that we might have a double wedding. Soft cow.”

  Louise and Angela bawled out even louder, and the tears started to appear in both Chrissy and Victoria’s eyes. Then other girls in the class started to cry, and by the time the lecturer arrived with Mrs Thorne, the flood-gates had well and truly opened.

  The first lecture of the day was hastily cancelled. The next was at eleven o’clock. Mrs Thorne sent them all off to the refectory to recover until then, hoping that the next lecture could get off to a better start.

  In the refectory, Angela, Louise, Victoria and Chrissy all sat at a table together. Louise and Angela had finally stopped crying, and they had all bought a cup of coffee.

  For a while they talked about Jo. Chrissy had explained how she knew that Max was the murderer. Victoria was still concerned that she had caused them to argue, but both Louise and Chrissy pointed out that Jo had been quick to find another boyfriend.

  “He must have seen them, and he got annoyed,” Chrissy said finally.

  It was as simple as that.

  They were quiet for a while after that. Quiet, and rather sad.

  Chrissy looked up at Victoria sitting opposite her with Louise. “You’ve cut your hair,” she suddenly said.

  Victoria reached up to it. “Yes. It sort of seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with short hair. It looks nice.”

  “Thanks.” Victoria paused for a moment, staring down at her coffee. Then she looked up and suddenly blurted out, “Oh, I’m sorry, Chrissy! Everything you said about me is true! I am a destructive, stupid cow! But it’s going to stop, I promise you!”

  “Where have I heard that before?” Chrissy replied, unimpressed.

  “I mean it this time!”

  “You always mean it!” Chrissy snapped back at her. “You’re always turning over a new leaf! Your life is littered with them! It never means anything!”

  “I’ve changed!”

  “How so?” Chrissy demanded.

  Victoria glanced at Louise, seeing the expression on her face. She looked across the table, and found that Angela was looking at her with that same expression. They both knew what she was going to say. Only Chrissy was sitting there, oblivious to the change that had taken place in Victoria’s life.

  Victoria realised that this was the moment of truth. Dayna and Sam would have called it coming out. She never realised how appropriate those words were, and she suddenly understood why Louise had never been able to tell her. It was like coming out of her shell, like stepping out into the open. They would all know. She would be revealed and exposed. And once done, it could never be undone.

  Chrissy waited expectantly for an answer, which Victoria was finally about to give, when a familiar voice said, “Hey, Tori, baby! Where’ve you been, girl?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Stand-Off

  Shawcroft faced stern opposition from the Headly family when he turned up early in the morning with another constable to pick up Max. Max looked terrified at the mere sight of the policemen, and he retreated rapidly into the kitchen. Mrs Headly rang their solicitor even before Shawcroft had finished telling them why he was there. At the same time, Scott and his father kept Shawcroft and the constable from getting any further in the door. Both Scott and his father were openly hostile, and there was a lot of pushing and shoving.

  “You’re not getting in!” Scott shouted. “And you’re not taking my brother!”

  His father was also shouting. “You have no right to do this! How dare you come barging your way into our house this early in the morning! Our solicitor will hear of this! It’s not right, I tell you!”

  Shawcroft did his best to be diplomatic, but it wasn’t easy. “We have the correct documents, Mr Headly,” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage, dragging the paperwork from his pocket as the four of them jostled about in the doorway. “Your son isn’t under arrest; he is merely helping us with our inquiries.”

  Scott didn’t wait for his father to answer. “Then why him? Hey?” he quickly demanded, shoving Shawcroft back and crumpling up the documents he had produced in the process. “Max was home when it happened! Why do you want to take him in for this identity parade?”

  “Max was Joanne’s boyfriend. We merely wish to corroborate his statement. There is no reason for this hostility.”

  “Then why don’t you want me? I was out late! I could have done it! Why are you pinning this on Max? Who have you got to identify him? Is it that lad you were looking for on the telly?”

  Mrs Headly suddenly shouted out above their voices. “Mr Billing wants to know what the document is! Give it to me! You can’t come in until he’s heard me read it to him!”

  The pushing and shoving came to a halt. Shawcroft handed the crumpled document out to Mr Headly who promptly snatched it and handed it to his wife by the telephone. She began to read it to Mr Billing on the other end of the line. There was a strained silence as they all stood in the doorway listening to her nervous voice.

  Scott glared at Shawcroft. “It is that lad, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not your concern,” Shawcroft replied. “In a moment I am sure your solicitor will confirm that everything is in order. From that point on, if you continue to resist my attempts to bring in your brother, I will arrest you both.”

  Mrs Headly had finished reading the document to Billing. Now she was nodding repeatedly. Finally she said, “Yes, I’ll tell them.” She turned with tears in her eyes and said to Shawcroft, “Henry says that Max can account for his whereabouts at the time of the murder. He also says that all your evidence points at our Scott and not at Max, and that you haven’t at any time told our Max that he was a suspect, and because of this, you have no right to take him.” She paused while she listened on the telephone again. “Henry says you can’t take Max with this document, only Scott, because Scott knew when he was questioned that he was a suspect. But he also says that because it has Max’s name on it instead of Scott’s, you can’t take him either. He says this document is no good.” She handed it back to her husband. “He says we have helped you enough and answered all your questions. He says we don’t have to let you in. Henry says he’s coming over.”

  Scott and his father looked triumphant. Mr Headly slapped the crumpled document against Shawcroft’s chest.

  “Get out!”

  Shawcroft sighed as he took the document and stuffed it in his pocket. He signalled to the constable with him and the two of them backed off.
“I will be back with the correct paperwork, I promise you.”

  The policemen retreated down the driveway. Scott and his father stepped across the threshold and shook their fists at them, bold in their victory.

  Scott shouted, “And I promise you that unless you have more than just one copper with you, you’re still not getting in!”

  And Mr Headly shouted, “Yeah! And remember to cross your T’s and dot your I’s! Or we’ll toss you out again!”

  With the two policemen seen off, Scott and his father slapped each other on the back, returned to the house, and slammed the door shut.

  “That’s the end of that!” Mr Headly said, a smile on his face. But the smile died when he saw his wife. The tears were streaming down her face and she looked absolutely distraught as she hugged the telephone receiver.

  “Oh, Scott!” she wailed. “What have you done? Tell me! Tell me the truth, now! Did you kill that poor girl?”

  Chapter Forty

  Bad Penny

  Louise’s heart sank at the sound of that voice.

  Zach leaned on the table and smiled smugly at them all. “Wow, what a feast! All these beautiful babes at one table!” His eyes fixed on Chrissy and his smile broadened. “Chrissy, baby! You’re looking sweeter every day! How about a lick?”

  “Naff off!”

  Victoria hastily grabbed Zach and dragged him away from the table. She pulled him all the way across the refectory, where she paused looking for another free table. Zach took the opportunity to put his arms around her.

  “Hey, girl? Why so eager?” he said, rubbing his body against hers. “We’ll have plenty of time later!”

  Victoria ignored his remarks, spotted an empty table, and dragged him towards it.

  “Sit down!” she said when they got there.

  Zach sat, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s going on, Tori?”

  “I’ve got something to tell you.”