Exposed

by Roberta Kray

  Dear Ann-Marie,

  I am sorry to contact you out of the blue. I am writing about my husband, Tom Chase, who I believe you were friendly with many years back. I’m afraid Tom is in serious trouble due to something that happened in Budapest in the late 60s. Do you remember meeting a man called Jack Minter? If you do, I would be very grateful if you could contact me at the above address or give me a call and I will ring you back.

  Best regards,

  Eden Chase

  Max’s hands had started to shake even before he reached the end. He had waited two long years but here it was, finally, in black and white – irrefutable proof that the Tom Chase he had confronted in Covent Garden had known Ann-Marie. Although he hadn’t been in doubt, having it confirmed in this way was a bonus he hadn’t expected. But what the hell was Eden Chase playing at writing to Juliette? Shock and surprise at the content of the letter yielded quickly to fury. He leapt to his feet. He needed answers and he needed them now.

  ‘I have to go out.’

  His mother stared up at him. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing, nothing at all.’ Max pushed the letters into his jacket pocket. ‘I just remembered. I’m supposed to meet a client at seven.’

  ‘Where do you have to go?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Where are you meeting them?’

  Max flapped a hand, plucking a location out of the air. ‘Leicester Square.’

  ‘You look pale. Are you sure you’re all right?’

  He nodded, forcing a smile. ‘I’d better go. I don’t want to be late.’

  She continued to gaze at him, knowing something was amiss, but not probing any further. ‘I’ll see you later, then.’

  Max hurried through to the hall, grabbed his car keys and left the house. It was only when he was sitting in the car, about to switch on the ignition, that he realised he no longer had an address for Eden Chase. She wouldn’t be at Pope Street. Damn it! Where had she gone after the fire? How could he find out?

  He remembered the place in Kellston, the flat she’d let herself into after being interviewed by the law. It was a long shot. There was no saying she’d be there, but someone might be, someone who could – with the right kind of persuasion – point him in the right direction.

  Max’s face was grim as he started the engine and pulled out. However long it took, whatever it took, he was going to find her. He wouldn’t sleep until he’d hunted her down.

  44

  Eden wasn’t sure what she was searching for as she trawled through the pile of old press cuttings with their reports of trials and convictions. What was she hoping to achieve? She was working on the premise that she’d know it when she found it: a clue, a tiny detail, something to shed light on why Archie Rudd was accusing Tom. But she didn’t seem to be learning much other than Rudd clearly wasn’t the most successful criminal in the world. When all his sentences were added together, he had probably spent as much of his life in prison as he had out of it.

  Although her gaze remained fixed on the pages, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering. The phone call from Castor loomed so large in her thoughts it overwhelmed everything else. She was desperate to hear what Tom had to say, and at the same time dreading it. There was no doubt it was important. She screwed up her face. God, more than important. Life-changing, perhaps. Earth-shattering. Her stomach shifted with fear and foreboding. She couldn’t bear to think the worst, but what if —

  The sound of the doorbell cut across her angst, making her jump. Who could that be? Other than Caitlin and Elspeth, no one knew she’d moved in – and Caitlin had left hours ago. She’d be at Greenham Common by now, giving support to the cause and offering legal advice to those who needed it. There was no reason either why the accountant would be calling round at seven o’clock in the evening. No, she wasn’t going to answer it. She sat very still, holding her breath, as though whoever was at the door – even though they were a floor down – might sense any movement from inside.

  The bell was pressed again, three long insistent rings. Eden remained motionless. Whoever it was would be able to see the light on behind the curtains, but she didn’t care. Hopefully they’d give up and go away. But no sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the bell started up again. More long rings, one after another. She flinched at the noise. Like a full-on bombardment, it was impossible to ignore.

  Eden held her ground for a couple of minutes but it soon became clear that her visitor would not concede defeat. Could it be DI Banner? Perhaps he had tracked her down and wanted another of his ‘chats’. Eventually, unable to bear the noise any longer, she pushed back her chair, went out into the hall, put on the light and stomped downstairs. She was so annoyed by the disturbance that it didn’t even occur to her, until she was opening the door, that it might not be the brightest idea in the world. By then it was too late.

  For a moment she didn’t recognise the man who was standing out in the pouring rain. He was tall, over six foot, and broad across the shoulders. He was also soaked. His hair was slicked down to his head and the front of his shirt was almost transparent. She frowned. But then it suddenly came to her. She started and shrank back, realising it was the undertaker from across the road, the man who had scared her so much when she’d first come to look at the flat.

  ‘I’m Max Tamer,’ he said.

  Eden’s fingers curled nervously around the side of the door, ready to slam it shut if he took a step closer. She stared at him, nonplussed. ‘Sorry?’

  He stared right back, his face tight and grim. ‘Max Tamer,’ he repeated, as if the name should mean something to her.

  Eden gave a small shake of her head. ‘I don’t —’

  ‘I’m Ann-Marie’s husband.’

  The announcement took Eden completely by surprise. It was the last thing she’d expected to come out of his mouth. She sucked in a breath. ‘What?’

  Tamer reached into his pocket, pulled out a blue airmail envelope and held it up. ‘I think we need to talk. Can I come in?’

  Eden now understood what he was doing here, but she still hesitated. There was so much she wanted to know, but the guy scared her. She peered around him. ‘Is your wife with you?’

  ‘No. She couldn’t come.’

  Eden wasn’t sure what to do next. On the one hand, she didn’t want to be alone with him, but on the other, he could have some important information as regards Jack Minter. In the end this outweighed any concerns for her personal safety. She nodded and stood aside.

  They walked up the stairs in silence. Eden studied his back as they ascended, noting the tightness in his shoulders. The guy was tense, coiled. She could see the stiff straining muscles of his neck above the collar of his jacket. Had she done the right thing by inviting him in? Well, it was too late to change her mind now.

  They went into the living room and she gestured towards the sofa. ‘You’d better sit down.’ She thought about offering coffee, but quickly dismissed the idea. This was hardly a social visit. Instead she said, ‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’

  Tamer sat down and gave a shrug.

  ‘Yes,’ she insisted. ‘You were here. You were standing across the road. I was at the window and…’

  ‘I was following you,’ he said.

  Eden blinked at the admission and the matter-of-fact way in which it was delivered. She felt her anxiety ratchet up several notches. ‘You were what?’

  Tamer gave a thin, unapologetic smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not some crazy stalker. I suppose you could say I was choosing my moment. I wanted to talk to you but… There’s always a right time for everything, isn’t there?’

  Eden couldn’t think of any useful response to this explanation. There probably wasn’t one. And as for not being worried, it was way too late for that. ‘I thought you were the undertaker,’ she murmured.

  This time he was the one who was startled. He stared up at her, glanced away and then looked back. A red flush spread across his cheeks. ‘Huh?’


  Eden didn’t bother to explain. Instead she tried to steer the conversation in a more productive direction. She wanted to get to the point. The sooner she did that, the sooner she could get rid of him. ‘So Ann-Marie got the letter.’

  ‘Her parents got the letter.’

  ‘Right.’ Eden sat down in the armchair, perched on the edge and waited, but Tamer didn’t go on. She saw his gaze slide around the room, taking in the shabby furniture and the brightly patterned curtains, the worn carpet and the table covered in photocopied pages from the newspaper library. ‘So does she remember meeting Jack Minter?’

  Tamer answered her question with another. ‘How long have you known?’ he asked.

  ‘Known what?’

  ‘About the relationship between my wife and your husband.’

  Eden gave a mirthless laugh. ‘You make it sound like they were having an affair. I mean, it was years ago, wasn’t it?’

  ‘When did he tell you about her?’

  Now it was Eden’s turn to blush. She felt the heat rise and spread over her face. Did she tell the truth, that Tom hadn’t told her anything at all, or did she lie and pretend she knew more about the relationship than she actually did? In the end, she settled on vagueness as the best way forward. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure. I think he might have mentioned her in passing.’

  ‘In passing,’ he echoed softly, raising his eyebrows.

  Eden stared at him. She wondered if he was one of those jealous, possessive husbands who couldn’t bear the thought of his wife having slept with anyone else – even if it had been before they’d even met. ‘Yes. And then I found her address on the letters and thought she might —’

  ‘What letters?’ he interrupted, quickly sitting forward.

  ‘Just some letters she wrote to Tom when he was in Budapest.’

  ‘Do you have them?’

  ‘No. There was a fire where I used to live. They were all destroyed.’

  Tamer hissed out a breath. ‘But you read them, right? You know what they said?’

  Eden shook her head. ‘They were in French. I couldn’t… I only went through them hoping to find a mention of Jack Minter, but there was nothing.’

  Tamer thought about this for a while, his gaze fixed on his feet, and then slowly raised his head. ‘Maybe that’s because Jack Minter doesn’t exist,’ he said provocatively.

  ‘How would you know?’ she snapped back.

  ‘How do you think?’

  Eden had a sudden disturbing thought that made her guts twist. ‘Is that what Ann-Marie says?’ She raised a hand to her mouth and worried on her fingernails. ‘Is it?’

  Max Tamer sat back and crossed his legs. ‘Your husband’s a liar.’

  Eden was reminded of her meeting with Annabelle at the studio. You think you can trust him, but you can’t. He’s a liar and a cheat. But she wouldn’t be swayed by what other people told her. Everyone had an agenda. She wasn’t exactly sure of Tamer’s yet, but she figured they were getting there. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning he doesn’t tell the truth.’

  ‘Perhaps you could be more specific.’ Eden spoke with a confidence she didn’t feel. All the time, in the back of her mind, Castor’s phone call was niggling away. The summons from Tom had put her on edge; she felt uneasy and fearful, as if what remained of her fragile world was about to come crashing down.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘How about this for starters: I paid a visit to your husband’s studio two years ago and he denied ever having known Ann-Marie. I showed him a picture. He lied through his teeth. He even claimed he’d never been to Budapest.’

  Eden pulled a face. ‘I don’t understand. Why would you be asking him about Ann-Marie? It’s old news. It all happened ages ago, back in the sixties.’

  ‘Surely the more important question is why he lied about knowing her?’

  ‘Not really,’ Eden retorted. ‘It depends on how you asked. If you stormed in there, all guns blazing, he may have presumed you were about to accuse him of something – like having an affair with your wife, for example.’

  ‘Why? Did he make a habit of it?’

  Eden glared at him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m just trying to make a point. He may have thought… well, that you were itching for a fight. Perhaps he felt threatened. Perhaps he took the easy way out. I’m not saying it was the right thing to do, but…’

  ‘Ah, so that’s the line he’s going to take.’

  ‘There isn’t any “line”.’ Eden gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘I’m just providing you with a different interpretation. Anyway, I still don’t understand why you went to see him in the first place.’

  ‘Because I was looking for my wife.’

  ‘Ah,’ Eden said, believing that she’d finally caught on. His wife must have left him, done a bunk. ‘And you thought she might be with Tom? Why would you think that?’

  ‘Because one of her work colleagues told me she’d bumped into an old friend from Budapest. What can I say? He seemed the most likely candidate.’

  ‘She could have met lots of people in Budapest.’

  ‘At the time she was working round the corner from your husband. A bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?’

  ‘There are millions of people in London.’

  ‘But not so many who used to live in Hungary.’

  A silence fell over the room and the two of them watched each other warily. Eden wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, what he was actually doing here. ‘I didn’t even know Tom back then,’ she said.

  ‘Do you know him now?’

  The jibe hit home and Eden scowled at him. Hadn’t she been asking herself the same question recently? ‘Well enough.’

  ‘I could almost feel sorry for you.’

  Eden bristled. ‘Don’t waste your pity. I don’t want it. Just get to the point. I take it there is one?’

  Max Tamer briefly closed his eyes and opened them again. ‘My wife – Ann-Marie – went missing three years ago. She went out to lunch, bumped into a friend from Budapest, went for a coffee, returned to work and never came home.’ He paused before adding, ‘Is that direct enough for you?’

  ‘You’re saying that she left you?’

  ‘Not voluntarily.’

  ‘What exactly are you insinuating?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not insinuating anything,’ he said. ‘I think your husband killed her.’

  Eden’s response, a reflex born of pure shock, was to bark out a laugh. ‘What? Are you mad?’ Instantly, she saw his face darken. ‘Tom wouldn’t. He could never do anything like that. Why would he?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear what I said? On the same day she met your husband, she disappeared for good.’

  ‘You don’t know she met Tom. And even if she did, it doesn’t mean that he… For God’s sake!’ Eden jumped up, went over to the table and leaned against it with her arms wrapped around her chest. She stared across the room at Tamer, her heart racing. The guy was mad. He had to be. ‘You said she went back to work after seeing this friend so even if it was him, how could he have done anything?’

  ‘I think they made arrangements to meet again after work.’

  Eden swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice calm. ‘Or maybe she just left. People do. They do it all the time.’

  ‘What? Leaving everything behind – her home, her family, her job, her clothes, her passport?’ Tamer shook his head. ‘From that day, nothing, not a penny, has been taken out of her bank account. No, it didn’t happen like that. We were happy. We had a good marriage. Your husband took that away. He murdered my wife.’

  ‘Why would he? Why would Tom do that?’

  ‘Why did he leave Paddy Lynch to die?’

  ‘He didn’t,’ she snapped. ‘That was a man called Jack Minter. Why do you think I wrote that letter? Ann-Marie spent time in Budapest, and Tom shared a flat with Minter; she must have met him.’

  Tamer’s voice was cold and ugly. ‘Well, we’ll never know now, will we?’

  ‘If you’re so sure Tom killed
her, why haven’t you told the police?’

  ‘There’s no rush. It’s not as though he’s going anywhere.’ He kept his eyes fixed on Eden. ‘And anyway, they weren’t much use first time round. As I’m sure you’ve already gathered, the law isn’t always on your side. No, I figured I’d sort things out myself.’

  Eden stiffened at the words, hearing the menace behind them. Max Tamer’s methods of sorting things out were unlikely to be pleasant. She tried to read his face, but it was closed down, impenetrable. Fear prickled her scalp. The best course of action, she decided, was to try and placate him