by Roberta Kray
Ava frowned. ‘But she didn’t even know that Squires was dead when she… when she did it.’ She sat back and folded her arms. ‘No, that doesn’t add up. If she was in love with him, then surely she’d want to stick around, make sure he was okay.’
‘Unless…’ Hannah said.
There was a short pregnant silence while the ‘unless’ settled over the room. Ava instantly knew what was being implied: people killed for love or because they had been rejected. Was it possible that Lydia had followed Squires to Belles and shot him in the back? It seemed unlikely, but not impossible. It was true that Lydia had been grief-stricken, but had that been a sign of a guilty conscience or simply the response of a girl who was already in a highly emotional state after losing her mother?
Suddenly, Tash realised what her girlfriend was suggesting. ‘No, no way! That’s ridiculous! How could you even…’ Tash glared at Hannah, her eyes brimming with anger and tears. Then she looked over at Valerie Middleton. ‘She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Lydia was a gentle person. She was kind. She wouldn’t harm a fly.’
‘But you’ve got to admit, it was hardly a normal reaction,’ Hannah said.
Tash turned on her again. ‘And what would you know about normal!’
Ava winced. If Hannah had any sense she’d shut her mouth and keep it shut before she completely alienated Tash and blew their relationship right out of the water. But of course, Hannah couldn’t let it go.
‘I’m only saying. I’ve a right to say what I think, haven’t I?’
‘Not when you’re thinking those sorts of things.’
‘And since when did you become an expert on Lydia Hall? You hardly knew the girl.’
‘I knew her a damn sight better than you did!’
DS Higgs glanced slyly from one to the other, her lips slightly parted like a hungry predator sensing a good feed coming. Ava had disliked her the first time they’d met and her opinion hadn’t altered. She was always wary of cops – she’d seen too many of them as a kid – but this one made her more uncomfortable than most. There was something cold, almost reptilian about the woman. Before the exchange between Tash and Hannah got out of hand, and things were said that couldn’t be unsaid, Ava quickly tried to defuse the situation. ‘Come on. We’re all upset. Let’s not… Lydia wouldn’t have wanted this.’
‘Some of us are upset,’ Tash said, glancing pointedly at Hannah.
Hannah glared back at her. ‘Meaning?’
It must have been crystal clear to everyone, especially Hannah, that Tash’s feelings for Lydia ran deep. Normally, Ava wouldn’t have volunteered any information to the police – it went against the grain – but now she saw it as the only way to stop Tash from blurting out something she might later regret.
‘Guy Wilder might be able to help. He was friendly with Lydia.’
DS Higgs’s gaze slithered back to her. ‘Guy Wilder?’
‘Yes, you know, from the wine bar on the high street. He might be able to tell you more about the family. When she first moved here, she was trying to find people who might have known her mum and someone pointed her in Guy’s direction.’
‘And did he know her mother?’ Higgs asked.
‘No, I don’t think so. He’s too young. But like I said, they became friends. She might have mentioned something to him, something useful.’ Wilder, she was sure, wouldn’t appreciate her tip-off to the cops, but hopefully he’d never find out it was her.
‘How friendly?’ Higgs said.
‘Pardon me?’
Higgs scowled, suspecting that Ava knew exactly what she meant. ‘Did they go out together? Where they ever in a relationship?’
‘Oh, no, I don’t think so. Well, if they were, she never said.’
Ava could see DI Middleton’s brain ticking over at this new piece of information. She felt slightly bad about landing him in it, but they would probably have found out eventually. All she was doing was speeding up the process. Anyway, a man who sent a dead rat through the post didn’t deserve too much consideration.
The inspector raised her chin a little, her interest piqued. She was about to say something when a phone started ringing. It took Ava a few seconds to realise it was hers. ‘Sorry,’ she said as she reached around the chair to her coat pocket, pulled the mobile out and checked the screen. It was Chris Street. Typical of him to ring back when the cops were here.
Ava stood up and looked over at DI Middleton. ‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘I won’t be long, but I have to take this.’ She went into the kitchen, closed the door behind her, pressed the button and lifted the phone to her ear. ‘Finally,’ she said, skipping the niceties. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call since this morning.’
‘Nice to talk to you too. What’s the problem?’
‘The problem is…’ And Ava embarked on a fast somewhat garbled account of everything that had happened since she’d talked to him last. She kept her voice low, sure that DS Higgs was straining her ears to try and hear what was being said. Every now and again he’d say, ‘Slow down, slow down,’ but eventually she got to the end. There was a long pause after she’d finished as though he was still trying to digest it all.
‘So what are you saying? That this girl Lydia killed Squires?’
‘No. I don’t know. Maybe. No one seems to know anything for sure.’ Her fingers gripped the phone more tightly and there was a slight tremor to her voice that she couldn’t control. ‘But the police have latched on to Squires repeating the name Ava at the hospital. They think I had something to do with the shooting.’
‘He can’t have been talking about you.’
‘Try telling that to the cops. I mean, put yourself in their shoes: I work for you, Danny was with Squires at Belles, and Squires kept saying my name after he was shot. They’re hardly going to write it off as coincidence. And I was in on my own last night so I don’t even have an alibi.’
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘That does look bad.’
‘You see?’
‘You can’t even get a date on a Saturday night?’
Ava scowled down the phone. ‘Oh, I’m glad you think it’s so damn funny.’
‘Hey, I’m only trying to lighten the mood. You need to stop stressing. If Old Bill had you in the frame you’d be down the nick by now. They’re just going through the motions. Look, do you want me to come over?’
Ava hesitated, but then made up her mind. ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not with the law here. And I don’t have a clue how long they’ll be. Just have a word with Danny and see if he can shed any light on it, will you? Maybe Squires mentioned another Ava to him or… Jesus, I don’t know. Just try and find out anything you can. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? I’ll pick you up at the usual time.’
They said their goodbyes and Ava hung up. The events of the past twenty-four hours were starting to catch up with her. Things had been happening at such a pace that she hadn’t really had time to absorb them, but now she found herself thinking of Lydia and the stark cold truth of her death. Could she have done more, done anything, to stop her from killing herself? The horror of it all was slowly sinking in.
Ava had to gird herself before going back into the living room. When she did, she was relieved to see that the two officers were on their feet and preparing to leave. Tash was still sitting on the sofa, her face pale and drawn. Hannah was preparing to show the officers out. But just as she thought the ordeal was over – at least for now – DI Middleton turned, fixed her in her sights and said, ‘Just one last thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘I was wondering why Lydia didn’t call you last night. Why did she call Tash instead?’
Ava drew in a breath. It was the second occasion that she had faced the question. The first time, when Hannah had asked, she had come up with a glib response about her mobile being on recharge, but that wouldn’t do for the cops. When they checked Lydia’s phone, if they hadn’t already done so, they’d see that she hadn’t even tried to ring her. Instantly Ava saw how bad th
is could look. They might come to the conclusion that she hadn’t been called because she was involved in some way, because she already knew about the shooting, because… But Ava didn’t have time to run through all the dire possibilities. The inspector was still waiting for a reply.
‘Erm, I’m not really sure.’ Ava, starting to panic, rapidly searched for a plausible answer. ‘But, well, it might have been because when I saw Lydia on Friday, I mentioned that I was going to Norfolk this weekend to see my mum. Perhaps she thought there was no point in ringing me if I was that far away.’
‘But you didn’t go,’ Middleton said.
Ava met the gaze of the inspector and fought against the urge to look away. ‘No, I changed my mind.’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘The weather,’ replied Ava, surprised by how easily the lie rose to her lips. ‘I didn’t want to drive through the snow.’ From the corner of her eye she was aware of Hannah staring at her and she sent up a silent prayer that once, just for once, the woman would keep her big mouth shut.
39
Noah, who was ostensibly making preparations to open the bar, was actually eavesdropping on the conversation that was taking place on the leather sofas directly in front of the counter. The two police officers had arrived five minutes ago. Initially, he thought they’d come about the shooting at Belles. It was common knowledge, especially among the local constabulary, that there was no love lost between Guy and the Street family.
Although the news of Lydia Hall’s suicide had come as a shock – sudden death was always shocking – it had not entirely surprised him. Lydia had always seemed a brittle, fragile kind of girl, highly-strung and prone to extreme emotions. He had not known her long, only a few months, but long enough to be aware that her mental state was not an entirely balanced one. He was pretty sure that she had provided the dead rat that Guy had sent to Terry Street.
DI Middleton was the cop doing most of the talking. She was a tall, attractive blonde in her mid-thirties, dressed in a tailored, navy blue suit that flattered her curves. ‘So, you think her mother’s name was Karen Hall?’
‘Yes,’ Guy said. ‘Karen, I’m pretty sure it was Karen. Lydia thought I might know someone who had known her mother. Of course my mother probably did, but as you’re aware…’
Noah watched as Middleton gave a nod. Lizzie Street had been murdered several years back and wouldn’t be telling anyone anything. ‘But the name wasn’t familiar to you?’
‘It didn’t ring any bells, but it was a long time ago. I think she said that her mother left the area when she was about sixteen. I doubt if I was even born then.’
‘What do you think Lydia hoped to achieve?’
‘Achieve?’ Guy echoed. ‘I don’t know if she wanted to achieve anything. I think she was just… just searching for somewhere she could call home. I got the impression that she’d had a rather unstable background, that she’d moved around a lot, never settled anywhere. Perhaps she was just looking for some roots.’
‘Do you know if she had other family?’
‘She didn’t mention anyone.’
‘Did she have a boyfriend?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘But you were friends. Didn’t the subject ever crop up?’
Guy sat forward, resting his hands on his knees. Since hearing the news, two short, deep lines had engraved themselves into the space between his eyes. ‘Well, I’d say we were friendly rather than friends.’
‘I’m not sure I understand the distinction.’
Guy made a loose gesture towards their surroundings. ‘I run a bar, Inspector, which means I get to meet a lot of people. And talk to a lot of people. I did have a few chats with Lydia, but to be honest it wasn’t anything more than that. When she first came here she didn’t know anyone. I suppose I felt sorry for her. She came across as… I don’t know… a bit of a lost soul.’
‘So not close, then?’
‘No, not close, but I liked her. And I’m sorry, really sorry, to hear about what’s happened.’
There was a short respectful silence before the other cop, the harder-faced, younger woman said, ‘Did Lydia ever mention the name Jeremy Squires to you?’
‘Squires? Wasn’t he the man who got shot last night?’
‘Yes.’
‘No, never. Did they know each other?’
‘Apparently so.’
Guy pulled a face. ‘Really? But you can’t think… I mean, she didn’t… there’s no connection between the two events, is there?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. Did you know Mr Squires?’
‘Only by sight. He came here occasionally, not very often.’
‘But of course you do know Danny Street.’
Guy gave a thin smile before raising both his hands, palms out. ‘Not guilty,’ he said. ‘I was here all night until closing. There are plenty of witnesses if you’d like to check.’
DI Middleton joined the conversation again. ‘No one’s accusing you of anything, Mr Wilder.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it.’
‘We’re just trying to shed some light on why Lydia Hall should take her own life.’
‘Well, I wish I could help, but apart from the obvious…’
‘The obvious?’
Guy gave a shake of his head, followed by a long sigh. ‘That she was unhappy. That she couldn’t see an end to that unhappiness. Isn’t that why most people commit suicide?’ He looked at his watch and then back at the two women. ‘I wish I could help you more, but if you don’t have any further questions, I really should be getting on. We’re due to open shortly.’
While Guy showed the officers out, Noah picked a lemon out of the bowl and started slicing it up. He waited until the door had closed before raising his eyes again. ‘Why did you lie to them?’
Guy sauntered over to the bar. ‘About what?’
‘You know what. About Lydia’s past, about her mother, about everything you told her.’
‘Oh that,’ he said dismissively. ‘Why should I help the police? Let them do their own investigating.’
40
By Monday morning the snow had turned to a sleety rain, making the pavements of Kellston even more perilous than the day before. As DI Valerie Middleton walked down from Cowan Road police station, her boots slipping and sliding on the icy surface, she knew that if she wasn’t careful she’d end up on her backside. With her left hand holding on to her umbrella she pulled her right hand out of her pocket to give her better balance. Already she was regretting that she hadn’t brought the car. The cold, nipping at her nose and ears, made her shiver. The breath escaped from her mouth in small steamy clouds.
It was a relief when she finally reached Connolly’s and was able to push open the door and step into the welcome warmth of the café. The breakfast shift was in full swing and most of the tables were occupied. The room smelled of fried bacon, coffee and damp coats. Jeff Butler was sitting right at the back, his head bent in concentration as he tucked into a Full English. She ordered a cappuccino from the counter, waited for it to be frothed and poured, and then went over to join him.
‘Morning,’ she said, pulling out the chair opposite to his. ‘Fuelling up?’
‘Valerie,’ he said. ‘Good to see you.’ He gestured with his fork towards the plate. ‘Comfort eating. The wife’s gone to Oslo on a business trip so I’m having to fend for myself.’
‘Ah, fending. Is that what you call it? Well, I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to come home and find you three stone heavier.’
Butler laughed while he cut into a slice of bacon. ‘So what’s bubbling with the Squires case? You want to go first or shall I?’
Valerie glanced towards his plate and smiled. ‘You eat and I’ll talk. That way your food won’t go cold.’ She took a sip of coffee while she gathered her thoughts. Although they’d liaised over the phone, they hadn’t had a chance of a proper catch-up. Five minutes later, having run through a detailed account of the previous day, she
was done.
‘So that’s pretty much it,’ she said, summing up. ‘The one linking factor between all these events appears to be Ava Gold. Squires reportedly said the name Ava while he was dying in hospital, she’s involved with Chris Street, Danny Street was with Squires when he was shot, and she was friends with Lydia Hall.’
‘But she still denies that she even knew Squires.’
‘Yes.’
Butler mopped up some egg with a piece of fried bread. ‘And where’s the motive? A woman spurned? Lydia has an affair with Squires, gets dumped, shoots him in the back, calls her friends, cries for a few hours and then, full of remorse, kills herself. Where did she get the gun?’
