“Selfish, evil, liar!” she wailed. “You used me like he used me! I hate you for that! I hate you! I hope you die!”
Zach slumped to the ground next to her. He stared at her as she sobbed and tore at the grass. He didn’t say anything and she just cried. They stayed like that for some time. Her sobbing and him sitting and waiting. Finally, when her sobs had diminished, Zach spoke.
“You’re a daft bitch, Tori,” he said more calmly. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that you didn’t like it?”
Victoria sniffled and rubbed her nose. “I’ve never liked it. I just thought it was me, because of my dad.”
“And this girl, the one from McDonalds, Louise, wasn’t it? When you do it with her, you like it?”
Victoria nodded.
“And you think that makes you a lesbian?”
“Yes.”
“Then why does everyone else knowing about it make you feel dirty?”
“Not dirty, just–Oh, I don’t know, I just felt so ashamed with all those people looking at me.”
“Then you can’t be a lesbian.”
Victoria looked up. “What do you mean?”
“If you really were a lesbian, you wouldn’t feel dirty or ashamed. Come on, Tori, I know babes, and I’ve met some really strange ones, and I’m telling you, they know what they are and they ain’t ashamed!”
“But I liked it!” Victoria insisted. “I felt okay, I felt happy. And Louise loves me!”
“Crap!” Zach said. “She’s been filling your head with crap, Tori! Get with it! If anyone is using you, it’s her. You say I have to get you drunk, well, she’s getting you drunk with words.”
“It’s not like that!” Victoria said desperately. “She loves me!”
“And I don’t?”
They were both getting worked up again, but now Zach’s words made Victoria pause. She stared at him, and slowly, she shook her head.
“You don’t love me, Zach,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m like a prize possession to you, a favourite cushion to sleep on. No, you don’t love me.”
“Don’t I?” Zach replied. “I killed your dad for you, didn’t I? I remember how you were so grateful. ‘I’ll love you forever’ you said. Forever didn’t last long, did it?”
“You can’t keep hanging that over my head, Zach. I’m as guilty as you are. It’s over.”
Zach grabbed her arm. “I can be better than her. Now that I know I can go easy on you. We can make it work. You’re not a lesbian, Tori, I know you’re not. We can work this out. You’re the only girl I ever loved–”
“Ha! That’s a laugh!” Victoria interrupted him.
Zach shook her. “Listen to me! I’m serious! Yeah, I chase the babes, I admit it. But it doesn’t mean anything, and I hardly ever catch any. You know what I’m like, Tori; you’ve stayed at my place. But you’re the same as me. You go out, you chase the boys. It doesn’t mean anything for you either. We get on because we understand each other. Don’t drop me, Tori. This Louise has got you all confused. Yeah, the sex is good, but it can be good with me too. Show me what she did, show me what you liked. I can do it, Tori! Just give me a chance! Don’t drop me! Please!”
Victoria stared at him. He looked so desperate. He was pleading with her. She had never seen him like this. Never. Could he be telling the truth? Could he love her?
Her time with Zach could never have been described as tranquil. But what he had said was true. They did get on, in their own strange fashion. And they did understand one another. Until Louise, he was the one person who had known.
Victoria was all confused; she didn’t know what to say, or what to think anymore.
She shook her head. “I need time to think.”
“Okay, you do that. I can wait. Where are you staying? I went to your flat in the halls at the weekend. They said you’d left.”
“I’m staying with Louise.”
“Move out!” he said firmly.
“What?”
“Move out. You don’t have to stay with me, I’ll understand. Find some place on your own. Sort yourself out. Give yourself time to think, like you said. But get away from her, or you’ll never get her out of your head. Okay?”
Victoria stared at him again. She nodded. “Okay.”
“Good!” Zach stood up. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your flat. I’ll even help you pack.”
He held out his hands and helped her to her feet. He wiped the tears from her eyes and face, and then brushed the grass from her clothes. Finally he smiled at her.
“Hey, baby, I like the new look with your hair. It’s kind of sexy!”
Chapter Forty-Four
The Shere Khan
Wilmslow Road in Rusholme had a character all of its own. It had been taken over by the Asian community in Manchester many years before. It was always full of life, even late into the night. Traffic always backed up, and cars were parked everywhere, as no one seemed to heed the yellow lines. All along the road from Saint Mary’s to Platt Fields Park there were restaurants, jeweller’s shops, sweet shops, grocer’s shops, and clothes shops. In fact there was every kind of shop and emporium. At night, the shops and restaurants were lit up, and the whole area glowed with the brightness of neon lights.
When Shawcroft got to the Shere Khan, it was nearly half-past eleven, and the restaurant was preparing for the onslaught that was lunch time on a week day. All the other restaurants on Wilmslow Road were doing the same. Shawcroft had to follow the waiters back and forth across the restaurant as he asked them questions. So far he had had no luck.
“Please look closely at these pictures,” he pleaded with another waiter as he chased him among the tables.
“We’re very busy! You come at the wrong time!”
“Please. It involves the murder of a young woman.”
The waiter came to a reluctant halt. He sighed and took the photofit pictures. There were three of them. Scott and Max Headly and John King. Shawcroft was very aware of how poor they were compared to actual photographs. But they were all he could get.
The waiter stared at them for a moment. “You said Friday?”
“Yes. Very late. Maybe one, or two o’clock on Saturday morning.”
“I not here then.” He suddenly turned and shouted to another much younger waiter. “Pravin! You were here on Friday night! Come look at these!”
The younger waiter came over. The first waiter handed him the three photofit pictures. “The policeman wants to know if they were here on Friday night,” he told him, then promptly walked away.
Shawcroft was left with Pravin. Pravin stared at the pictures. Then he nodded. “Yes, they were here. They came late, after one o’clock.”
Shawcroft couldn’t hide his delight. “You remember them?”
“Yes. They sat over here.” Pravin headed for a table by the window. Shawcroft followed him. “They made a lot of noise. And they were always looking through the window.”
Shawcroft stared through the window. The Shere Khan was situated on the corner of Wilmslow Road and Walmer Street. Across Walmer Street, on the other corner, was the Hanaan restaurant. Shawcroft could see tables and chairs plainly visible in the window facing him, more waiters bustling about.
He turned back to Pravin and said eagerly, “You said ‘they’. Which ones? Show me which pictures.”
“All of them.”
Shawcroft was momentarily stunned. “All three of them?”
Pravin now looked puzzled. “No, two. This one and this one.” he indicated John King’s picture, then the two of Max and Scott.
Understanding dawned on Shawcroft. He pointed at the pictures. “These are pictures of three different men, not two.”
Pravin looked surprised as he stared again at the pictures of Max and Scott. “But they are very much alike.”
“I know. They’re brothers. Was it one of them?”
“Yes.”
“Could you say which one? It’s very important.”
Pravin continued to stare
at the two pictures, holding one in each hand. He was very thoughtful, but in the end he shook his head, handing all the pictures back to Shawcroft. “He was one of them, but I cannot tell the difference from these. Do you have any better pictures?”
“No,” Shawcroft replied in dismay as he put the pictures in his pocket. “Do you think you could tell the difference between the two if you saw them both for real?”
“Oh, yes. I would remember him easily. He was very bad tempered. He kept getting up and trying to leave. His friend would pull him back. He disturbed the other customers. I would know him for sure if I saw him again.”
Shawcroft’s spirits rose once more. “Do you know what he was angry about?”
“It was something to do with his girlfriend. She had broken up with him or something like that. He was very angry.”
Shawcroft smiled. “He was talking that loud?”
“Yes. Very loud. And he swore a lot. We were glad when he left. His friend paid the bill.”
“Did you happen to over hear his name?”
Pravin nodded. “His friend called him Max. He spoke the name many times.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The Achilles Heel
When Detective Sergeant Connors made his request to take Chrissy out of class, Mrs Thorne was reluctant to agree.
“They’re only just settling down after the shock,” she told him. “Is it really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so,” Connors replied. “We now have a strong suspicion of who the murderer is, but we need Miss Davis’s help in confirming that suspicion. You wouldn’t want to stand in the way of us catching this man, would you?”
There wasn’t much Mrs Thorne could say after that, and that’s how Chrissy found herself in a police car with Connors. She had been surprised to see him when he turned up in class with Mrs Thorne. But the feeling of surprise had quickly turned to one of apprehension when she was singled out.
Connors explained why he had come to collect her as they drove back to the police station.
“You and I both know that Max Headly is the murderer. However, proving that is going to be another matter. His brother is protecting him. They’ve swapped stories, and if they stick to their guns they could prove difficult to overturn.”
“What happens if that lad turns up?” Chrissy asked. “The one in the news last night? Won’t he be able to prove it was Max?”
“He has turned up, but unfortunately, it’s not as simple as it sounds. You see, with their stories reversed, our evidence all points to Scott, not Max, and their solicitor has been able to use that fact to prevent us from getting Max into an identity parade. And even if we did get Max into a line up, and our boy did pick him out, it’s still his word against both Max and Scott.”
“Get other witnesses,” Chrissy said. “Somebody must have seen Max that night.”
“We are pursuing that very option. But even then, our only option would be to get both brothers into a line up. And there’s no guarantee that any witness would be able to pick out Max from his brother. Both brothers do look very much alike.”
“Scott’s taller.”
Connors looked across at Chrissy. He nodded his head slowly. “Yes, and he also has an Achilles Heel.”
Chrissy stared at him. “You mean me?”
Connors nodded. “He was very moved by your message. The thought of losing you hurt him.”
“He doesn’t have me to lose,” Chrissy was quick to reply.
“But your attitude and feelings for him mean a lot to him. He’s in love with you Miss Davis, and somewhere in your heart you feel the same.”
“Rubbish!”
“Is it? Then why were you always quick to defend him?”
“But that’s–”
Connors pressed on before she could finish. “Why were you with him at his house when DC Shawcroft went to pick him up?”
“That was just–”
“And why did you say Scott was taller when I said both brothers were alike?”
“Because he is!” Chrissy finally managed to complete a sentence.
“But you could have said Max was shorter,” Connors was quick to reply. “You didn’t. And why? Because it was Scott you were thinking about.”
Chrissy stared at him angrily and shouted, “You bugger!” Her expression changed from anger to shock as she realised she had insulted a police officer, in his police car, on the way to the police station. She quickly clamped her hands over her mouth.
Connors merely smiled. “What I am, Miss Davis, is devious. Very devious indeed. If you’re up for it, I’m going to give you the chance to have it out with Scott Headly, once and for all. I think he’ll listen to you. I think you are the only one who could convince him to change his story.”
“If I’m so in love with Scott,” Chrissy said bitterly. “What makes you think I’ll agree to do your dirty work for you?”
“Because if you don’t, he could very well face a murder charge and a long spell in prison while his brother, the real murderer of your friend, goes free.”
Chapter Forty-Six
The Look of Love
Louise wasn’t at home when Victoria and Zach got there. And for some reason, the front door wasn’t locked. That turned out to be rather fortunate, as Victoria didn’t have a key. However, she was sure that Louise had locked the door when they left that morning; she was always very fussy about things like that. She said so to Zach, but he didn’t sound very concerned.
“Hey, maybe the babe came back,” he said. “Who cares? Where’s your stuff?”
Victoria pointed to her bedroom. Zach went over to the door. He paused by the broken lock and turned to smile at her.
“Hey, Tori, I never had to break your door down to get what I wanted!”
Victoria was suddenly embarrassed. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Sure, babe! Sure!”
Victoria didn’t bother explaining. She pushed past him into her room and pulled out her suitcase, bags and hold-alls. She started to pack.
Zach wanted to help her, but he dwelled once too long on her knickers, even holding one up and saying, “Hey, sexy undies!”
Victoria snatched them off him. “Why don’t you go outside and keep an eye out in case Louise comes home? I don’t want an argument.”
“You’ll have to tell her sometime,” Zach said with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“I’ll tell her tomorrow, at Uni. But not today.”
Zach did as she asked, pausing in the doorway to look back at her and smile as Victoria finished packing on her own.
When she was finished, she picked up her bags and suitcase and took a last look around the room. Why did she feel so sad? She went out into the lounge and stared at the sofa and the television and video. She remembered how she and Louise had sat and watched films all Saturday night.
Was she doing the right thing?
But what had happened was a big change in her life. She needed to think, and Zach was right, she needed to do it away from any influences. If her feelings were genuine, then everything would work out right, wouldn’t it?
Victoria sighed. She walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. She put her bags down and closed the door behind her.
Picking up her bags and suitcase again, she walked purposefully down the stairs. She was halfway down when the front door opened. For a moment she thought Zach hadn’t done his job properly, but then she thought it might be Rosanna. She hadn’t warned Zach about her, and she prepared herself for the worse.
It was a man.
He was about average height and slightly overweight. Although he was probably only in his mid thirties, his brown hair was already receding. He had a large box wrapped in brown paper under his arm.
Although she had never met him, Victoria knew instantly that this was David Williams, Rosanna’s husband. As he walked up the hallway, she walked the rest of the way downstairs, and they met at the bottom. Victoria couldn’t help being curious.
�
�You’re Dave, aren’t you?” she asked hesitantly.
He smiled at her. “And you must be Victoria.” He glanced at her bags and suitcase. “Leaving?”
She nodded. “And you?” she indicated his bulky package.
“Ah! Toaster,” he replied. “I thought I’d pick it up and get it home so Rosie can use it when she gets back. She’s probably still out shopping, so I just have enough time to unpack it and fit a plug before she gets here.” He paused a moment as he looked at her more closely. “Have you and Louise split up?”
His question was unexpected, and Victoria snapped at him.
“That’s none of your business!”
She knew she had over reacted as soon as she spoke. It unnerved her and she quickly pushed passed him and walked towards the door.
David turned and said, “You’re perfectly correct, of course. If you want to do something very stupid it is totally your business.”
Without really knowing why, Victoria stopped at the door. Without turning she said, “Why am I being stupid?”
David took a few steps towards her. “Because you’re throwing something very valuable away. And once done, it’ll be lost forever.”
Victoria turned to face him. “What’s it to you?” she asked. “What gives you the right to comment?”
David smiled. “Experience. You see, Rosie and I have been married for over ten years. During all that time, we’ve always made sure that we tell each other ‘I love you’ at least once everyday. That isn’t to say we haven’t had our fights. Sometimes quite bad ones, too. But we’ve always made up; because we both know that we love one another. And that’s the secret. Love. Not sex, or money, or power. Just love. The problem is, most people don’t recognise it until it’s too late. They think sex or money are more important. They’re not. Love is the most valuable thing you can receive in life.”
Victoria stared at him. His eyes were blue, and he was smiling at her. His look and manner were very disarming, but something about those eyes and that smile made her feel that he was looking right inside her head. Why was he telling her these things? Why did he have to come home now?
The Look of Love Page 28
