Dan couldn’t answer that one. “They make videos and upload them to YouTube. They make relaxation videos.”
“Relaxation? What nonsense!” said Ronson.
“That’s the lead-in. That’s the surface level of what they do.”
“Go on,” said Ronson.
“They’ve also got another website. That one offers an upsell to a collection of what looks like homemade videos of women in their underwear. That’s all we’ve seen, but it could run deeper than that.”
Ronson shook his head and closed his eyes. “She’s a child, Mr Bradley. Now you see why I hired you?”
“I thought it was a neighbourhood dispute, but it’s more than that to you, isn’t it?”
“Kitty Mellot needs saving from those people. If she was duped by them in some way, if something happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Dan nodded slowly.
“Yes, I can understand that very well,” said Dan. “I’m sorry we invaded your memories, Mr Ronson.” They heard the sound of chatter and laughter from somewhere outside on the street. Dan moved to the window and stood behind the curtain. Below, they saw the bleach-haired couple walking along the pavement, while the Mellot girl and her friend scooted along the street beside them. The Mellot girl’s friend scooted a good distance from the bleach-haired couple, as if she’d been well trained in how to handle strangers. But Kitty Mellot was close to the kerb, laughing with the woman who called herself Jennifer Soul. As the little girl laughed, Dan heard the man’s words clear as a bell. “Look at her when she laughs, Jen, isn’t she pretty?”
Dan kept his eye on them the whole way. He watched the girl separate from the couple as they turned towards their front path. He felt a mite of relief as the girl walked away and joined her friend in the middle of the street. The two girls scooted merrily on their way.
“Don’t worry, Mr Ronson. We’re definitely going to deal with it,” said Dan. And he meant every word.
Twelve
The empty fridge and cupboards had forced Eva and Lauren out in search of both lunch and a safe breath of fresh air. They walked along a back street not far from the office, side by side, looking over their shoulders as they went. After the previous night nowhere felt safe – but staying at the office with Lauren felt just as off, especially after her unsettling behaviour that morning. And no doubt, Lauren’s presence in their flat had to be the reason for Dan’s early morning flit. Eva couldn’t blame him for running out, but what else could she have done with Lauren? Lauren had needed a safe place to stay and after what she had discovered in Romford, Eva owed the woman at least that. After getting home back late, they had drunk plenty of wine to ease their shock and tension.. Eva knew she was the one who needed the drink more than Lauren. The chat and laughter had done something to thaw the wall of ice between them, but still Lauren couldn’t help twisting her in knots. And yet reading the French psych report had changed everything. It was now possible to see Lauren’s behaviour – all of it – the pushing, the controlling, the highly unwelcome flirting, even her dissing of Dan – through the prism of her years of suffering. The psych report implied Lauren’s whole life had been ruined by regret and self-recrimination ever since their falling out… that the falling out itself had been a critical event in Lauren’s life – even more so than in Eva’s. How bitterly ironic. And if the psych report was accurate, then there was bound to be some leftover unpleasantness in Lauren’s personality, especially in the most damaged places. Of course, Eva couldn’t expect Dan to see it that way, but at least she had her own explanation, the reasons behind everything Lauren had done, including the neediness and manipulation. Lauren was driven by fear and suffering. As Eva recalled her years of anger and unforgiveness she now felt pathetic, even more the villain than ever before. She was longer just capable of doing ‘whatever it took’ against her enemies, she was also a cold, spiteful and vengeful person too. The longer Eva spent with Lauren, the more she could see the Eva she had believed herself to be was fading out of existence. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to say the least. Now it seemed Dan was the only remaining constant in her life. But no matter how she sorry she felt for Lauren, there was no way Eva was going to let Lauren kick away her last foundation.
Questions surfaced in Eva’s mind as they walked but she didn’t know how to pitch them. In the end, Eva just let them come. Her words faltered, but they came, nonetheless.
“I know you must have experienced some problems after what happened between us at school,” said Eva. “But I never really thought that you might have taken it as badly as I did. To be honest, I never thought that there would be consequences for you.”
Lauren looked over the shoulder of her hoodie. “Consequences?”.
Eva nodded, and tried again.
“I mean at school… when we fell out. And maybe after that too.
Lauren looked away. Nervy, she looked over her shoulder down the street, her eyes following a car as it passed them by. A woman in a blue Peugeot estate drove by in a hurry – typical Southend. Nothing to worry about. “No…” said Lauren. “School wasn’t so good. And I wasn’t ever quite so academic as you ever were,. And then, after we stopped being friends – the girls I started hanging out with in the last two years – well, let’s just say I took a few wrong turns, shall we? Becoming friends with those girls was one big mistake. Those little bitches helped me make a good few more mistakes after that.”
“Sorry to hear that,” said Eva, recalling Lauren’s dalliance with rugby boy John Tomley.
Lauren sighed. “Yes, too many mistakes with boys… well, men, actually. Horrible, grotesque men they were too, but let’s not go there. We girls were all far too young for that. And those scumbags should have known better. You know, Eva, sometimes I’m so very glad I haven’t got a daughter. This world is a dangerous place.”
Lauren may have been speaking the truth, but the sentiment was enough to put anyone in a bad mood and Eva was determined not to let Lauren drag her any lower.
“You mean you never wanted children, then?, I used to think the same,” said Eva, “I never used to care either, but lately, I’ve been wondering…”
“You? A mother? Come on, Eva, as if pushing around a buggy full of screaming brats would ever go with those stiff tweed suits or beautiful stern face. No. Save yourself. Don’t do it. Stay all the richer for it too. Don’t risk bringing a child into this world. It’s a cold hard place. None of us deserve it.”
Eva winced. A child making a bad accessory to her tweed suits? It was an insult, and at the same time, Eva felt Lauren could be right.
The silence lasted too long before Eva tried again.
“Lauren, did something bad happen to you?”
“What? Worse than Jamie Blane, you mean? That would be difficult.”
Eva watched as Lauren’s face flickered with emotion, and the look she settled on seemed falsely bright.
“Let’s just say I’ve had more than my fair share of problems with the opposite sex.”
Jamie Blane seemed a bad enough mistake. Abuse had been a part of her life. Perhaps there had been even worse suffering in the woman’s unknown past. Lauren looked at Eva, reading her mind in the silence.
“After we parted company I made a great many mistakes. But after we’ve finished with Jamie, I’m going to make amends for all of it.”
“I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“Sorry? Why should you be sorry? In fact, let’s be honest for a moment, Eva, when have you ever been sorry about anything? Yes, I hurt you back at school. Until last night this whole escapade has felt like Eva’s grand revenge.”
Eva stiffened and her face darkened in a mixture of embarrassment and shame. But she took the hit without complaint.
Lauren’s walking pace slowed. “Eva… that was uncalled for. I apologise.”
“And I’m still sorry, Lauren.”
“Then don’t be. Take it from me, being sorry is a total waste of t
ime. I’ve done my walking around in shame, all the sackcloth and ashes bit. I’ve paid my dues. All I want to do now is survive and move on. I won’t let any of them ruin my life again after this.”
Eva let the conversation fade before she tried again.
Then she chose her words with care. “My friend tried to find out a little more about you, Lauren. More about the time after we were friends. From school all the way to your job in the fashion press.”
Lauren’s gaze snapped towards Eva, eyes sharp and curious. She casually swished her wavy hair away from her face, but a tell-tale furrow stayed on her brow. “You never did trust me, did you?”
“Lauren, I didn’t ask her to do it. She did it to satisfy her own curiosity.”
“Let me guess. The pretty little blonde who gives me all the funny looks.”
“Joanne. She gets the bit between her teeth and just—”
“Then she should get the bit out of her mouth and leave me alone. And what did she think she was after?”
“Lauren, calm down. I’m not trying to upset you, we were talking, that’s all. To be honest, Joanne couldn’t find out very much on your media career…”
“Eva, the fashion trade press isn’t nearly thrilling as the stuff on the newsstands. The latest news in denim production isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But the thing is, Lauren, she couldn’t find anything at all.”
“What?” said Lauren, looking confused. “Then perhaps your little friend isn’t as good at this detective business as she thinks she is. It’s all there, out in the open. Sounds like your Joanne looked in the wrong place.”
“I thought so too,” said Eva. “But my friend wanted to understand you better. So that I could understand you too. So she kept looking.”
“What?” said Lauren, doubtfully. “Why would she want to do that? We understand each other well enough, don’t we? We knew each other inside out for ten years.”
They had almost reached the convenience store and Lauren still hadn’t opened up. She decided to push on and deal with the consequences as they came. But there was another feeling too. An odd feeling, like they were being watched. Eva looked around the street, but there was nothing to see aside from houses and parked cars. She put the sensation down to last night’s excesses.
“All she managed to find out, was that you had some kind of incident in France.”
“An incident? Where did she hear that? Incident is the kind of word that can mean anything.”
“And that’s why I’m asking you,” said Eva, looking Lauren in the eye.
“Well, she’s wrong about the fashion press job, she could have got the wrong end of the stick twice over.”
“I’m talking to you, Lauren, not her.”
“And why France?” said Lauren, wide eyed.
“Because that’s what she was told.”
“Your friend doesn’t have a clue, Eva. You can tell her that from me.”
“No?” said Eva. “She’s usually right about most things.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I went to France for a while. But as for an ‘incident’? That word makes everything seem so dramatic. A petty argument can be an incident, Eva. Getting shouted at in the street by a drunk, that’s an incident too – getting a parking ticket—”
“I get the point, but there has to something else. You said you went to France…?”
“Yes,” said Lauren, reluctantly.
“Why?”
“For love. Why else? It was France. Love and a fresh start. I’d made some mistakes. France provided a new beginning.”
“I don’t think I ever realised how hard your life was.”
“Life is hard. But I can tell you’re still obsessing about this incident. But there wasn’t one. The long and short of it was that I met a handsome French student in London, fell for him and followed him back to Paris when he went home. Needless to say things didn’t work out, but I decided to stay anyway. Not long after that, I got a start at La Vie Couture, in one of their less glam publications. There was nothing you could describe as an incident. So tell your little friend, next time she wants the facts about my life, ask me first.”
Eva thought of the translated psych report lying on the floor in Romford. Clearly, Lauren found the matter too uncomfortable to discuss. Just the acknowledgement of her time in France had had to be extracted under duress. Whatever the truth was, it wasn’t going to come out easily.
“Okay,” said Eva, nodding at the convenience store. “This shop isn’t going to give us any cordon bleu, but a pasty and a sandwich might do the job,” said Eva.
A multitude of neon pricing posters covered the shop window, blotting out any view of the interior. They walked inside to find the thin Asian shopkeeper looking down on them from a high counter in front of the cigarette cabinet. The man wore an amiable look and welcomed them with a smile. Eva nodded at him and looked for the fridge. Lauren joined her as she picked through a range of plastic wrapped pastries, Scotch eggs, and chicken bites. None of it looked appetizing, and the bright fridge lights made Eva’s head hurt. “Get whatever you like,” said Eva.
“I’m not sure I like anything,” said Lauren.
They sidled over to another fridge with a selection of sandwiches that looked a little better. Eva settled on the least likely to offend. A simple BLT.
“Have you thought much about what happened last night?” said Eva.
“I’m grateful you took me in. I wouldn’t have wanted that man back outside my mother’s house.”
“I mean about Boothroyd?” said Eva. She kept her voice low so the shopkeeper couldn’t listen in. Lauren picked up a prawn sandwich, turned the packet over and read the list of ingredients. “Only as little as I can,” said Lauren.
“I’ve been thinking about what we’ve got on him. We’ve got an address. We have his name. There will be plenty of CCTV of him driving around in the Sportage, if we need it. Those emails might be gone, but Reva Rentals will have other records. Perhaps they might have some old CCTV footage… but I doubt it. Three years is a long time. But if they did, we could even use it to pinpoint who collected the rental back in 2016. The best footage of all would be from the accident, of course. Hard to believe the police have nothing.”
“2016?” said Lauren. “Eva, stop the big picture stuff. This isn’t a puzzle for you to solve. He’s a killer.”
“But think, if we can join the dots from Boothroyd to that blue Corsa – we might be able to prove he killed Blane’s wife. If we do, Blane and Boothroyd are finished right there. We won’t need emails if we can prove he rented the car and find those witnesses.”
“That’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it?” said Lauren, her face pale and stern. She put the prawn sandwich back in the fridge.
“My leaps are based on logic. That’s how I work.”
“You’re still on the wrong track, Eva,. We need to focus on the here and now. He’s still out there, I know it, and I’m in the crosshairs.”
“But make no mistake, he’ll be feeling the pressure too. We know where he’s based. You knocked him half senseless. We have him on the back foot.”
“So how do we finish the job? That’s what we need to do.
Eva read the glint in Lauren’s eyes.
“We should double-check with the police about the CCTV on the A12. The police report I saw said that the cameras were out, but I should at least ask. I could check with Reva Rentals too.. Then of course, there’s Blane himself. If nothing else works, we’ll force Jamie to confess.”
“Force a confession,” said Lauren. “I like the sound of that.”
“I thought you might,” Eva’s thoughts drifted to getting help with the CCTV footage. She had contacts in that department… Eva was still interested in the 2016 rental. The more they had on the man the better. The more pressure he was under, the more likely he would make a mistake. Eva opened her purse and took out a twenty pound note. “Here. Get whatever you like and grab someth
ing for me too.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
“I just need to make a quick phone call.”
“To Dan? Or to that nosy little friend of yours?”
“Neither of them. You buy those sandwiches and I’ll explain in a minute,” said Eva. She turned and walked for the door. It was time to double-check the police reports. Perhaps there was more information available than she’d been allowed to see. It was worth a try. Eva dialled the local police number and put her phone to her ear. Calling the local police office was like spinning a roulette wheel. You could never tell who would pick up. She looked around the street as she waited, feeling the same low-level tension as before. The local bungalows and semis were quiet and a steady stream of one-way traffic poured past on its way towards the town centre a mile or so away.
“Southend Police, Neighbourhood Team,” said a cop with a deep voice. The Neighbourhood Team? Eva selected her contact accordingly.
“Can I speak to PCSO Bec Rawlins, please?”
“Rawlins?. Who’s calling please?”
“Eva Roberts,” said Eva, gambling. Thankfully, this officer hadn’t had any dealings with her or Dan. He put her through without a fuss.
“Eva?” said Rawlins.
“Bec. How are you doing?”
“Same as usual. Harassed but happy. How’s business?”
“Mustn’t grumble, I suppose. I’d like to, but I’ll spare you. Bec, you know why I’m calling.”
“Of course, Eva. You need a favour. You always do. What is it this time?” At least Rawlins sounded jolly about it.
“Sorry to be so predictable, but I’m stuck again. I’m dealing with a very tricky situation involving a hired hitman.”
“But wasn’t that the North Road incident? The Albany Centre?”
“North Road already seems like a long time ago,” said Eva. “No. This is something else. Is there any chance that you could look at incident reports from a road traffic accident? It happened on the A12 to Colchester, Witham area, in May 2016. I’ve already seen a neat little police report saying there were no working cameras near the accident, but there’s got to be information somewhere.”
Play With Fire Page 19
