by Philip Cox
On the floor, there was a small pile of newspapers. Amy checked the dates: they were from just before she died. She must have left them there to throw away. Or recycle. And what was this?
After a while, Tom came slowly down the stairs. Amy looked up at him. He looked despondent.
‘Any luck?’ she asked him. He shook his head as he reached the foot of the stairs.
‘Nothing. Just clothes and stuff.’
‘Well, it was worth a shot.’
‘There is a loft door, but we need a step ladder to get up there. We’ll have to come back with one.’
‘What about the keys? I thought we had to get them back to Jane today.’
‘I said we’d try to if we had time. But I’ll get a copy cut first in any case.’
Amy nodded and looked around.
‘Not sure though,’ Tom continued, ‘how likely it is she’d have stuff in the loft.’
Amy said nothing.
‘But then again,’ he went on, ‘if you wanted to hide something...’
He paused a moment, looking around. ‘What about down here?’ he asked. ‘Did you find anything?’
‘Maybe,’ she said, picking up a sheet of white A4. ‘I found it down there, with a load of newspapers waiting to be chucked out.’
‘What is it?’ Tom asked, walking over.
Amy handed him the paper. On it were two postcodes, and a number, circled.
‘Postcodes?’ Tom said, studying the paper. ‘SE18 3BR: that’s obviously somewhere in south-east London, but this other one... What’s IP? And what about these - one, two, three - eight numbers? A phone number or something?’
‘Don’t know,’ Amy said. ‘But one thing I do know: that’s Jimmy Khan’s writing.’
Tom looked up. ‘Jimmy Khan? Isn’t that the guy who -’
‘That’s right. So for some reason just before Lisa died - or just before he died, rather - Jimmy gave Lisa these two postcodes.’
‘Satnav!’ exclaimed Tom, slapping his hand on the paper.
‘Satnav?’
‘Yeah; you use it to -’
‘I know what a satnav is,’ said Amy, ‘but -’
‘I reckon,’ Tom continued, ‘that Jimmy and Lisa were on to something. Jimmy found out something to do with these locations and one of them or both of them were going to go there.’
‘You need to hire a car,’ said Amy.
‘With a satnav,’ Tom added. ‘I think that’s all we can do for now. Time to be getting this back to Jane, after I’ve had a copy cut.’
‘Was that a thank you and well done I heard?’ asked Amy as Tom opened the front door.
‘Sorry,’ Tom said and leaned down to kiss her.
Just as their lips touched, Tom shouted, ‘Wait a minute!’ and ran back upstairs.
‘What?’ Amy exclaimed and looked up the stairs. She could see him run into Lisa’s bedroom. She heard some furniture being moved and Tom cry out.
She was just about to follow him when he appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Bingo!’ he cried out, coming down the stairs holding out something small. As he got further down, Amy could see it was a key.
‘What’s that? she asked.
‘Take a look.’ Tom held out the palm of his hand. Amy picked it up. It was a small key, embossed with serial number B61.
‘A locker key! Where did you find it?’
‘On top of her wardrobe. I remembered that was Lisa’s favourite place for hiding things. She used to keep things there when we were married. You know: birthday cards; presents; letters from divorce lawyers, that sort of thing. I had to feel around on the top a bit, but it was there.’
‘That’s why there was nothing when I looked in her locker. Just a book and an umbrella. So, she did have two lockers.’
‘It looks like it,’ agreed Tom. ‘And it very much looks like whatever got her killed, is in that second locker.’
Chapter Thirty
Tom sat back in the train as he and Amy made their way back into Central London. ‘Quite a successful morning,’ he grinned at Amy.
She nodded. ‘Yes; it feels like we’re finally getting somewhere. So what’s the plan now?’
Tom leaned forward. They were the only occupants in their own seats, two facing two by a window, but three of the seats across the aisle were occupied. Not that the occupants were giving them any attention. Two African women were chatting animatedly and one of their daughters was absorbed in her MP3 player.
‘Once we get into Liverpool Street,’ he said quietly, ‘let’s quickly grab something to eat. There’s a heel bar on the concourse, so I’ll get a duplicate key cut. Then we might as well go straight back down to Jane and Sully’s to drop the key off and get a copy of whatever contacts Lisa had in her filofax.’
‘What about that locker key?’ Amy asked.
Tom sighed and looked out of the window. ‘You don’t want to go back there, do you?’ he asked.
Amy said nothing; just stared out of the window.
Tom was about to say something, but stopped himself. Thought for a moment, then leaned forward and tapped Amy on the knee. ‘Does your office open weekends?’
‘No,’ she replied, looking at him a little mystified.
‘It’s Friday today, isn’t it? The offices will be empty tomorrow, won’t they?’
‘Think so. I’ve never worked on a Saturday myself, but people like Fleming and Gerald might go in.’
Tom sniffed and sat back. ‘Doubt it,’ he said. ‘Very unusual for a chief executive or whatever he is to be in the office at weekends. What say we both go in tomorrow?’
She nodded, reluctantly.
‘Does your firm occupy the whole building, or just one floor?’
‘It’s a tower block. We’ve got the fifteenth and sixteenth floors.’
‘Even better. If there’s somebody on a reception desk, you’ll still have your pass, security tag, or whatever you use.’
Amy nodded.
‘You could tell him that you’ve popped in to pick up some paperwork.’
‘How do I explain you?’
‘You - you could say I’m your boyfriend coming in with you as you think the place is creepy empty. Something like that.’
She nodded again, staring out of the window again. Tom leaned forward and rested his hand on her knee.
‘Don’t worry; I’ll be there with you. And any sign of trouble, and we’ll both be out of there.’
She looked over at him. ‘I’ll be okay,’ she said, unconvincingly.
The train had just pulled into Stratford, and the seats next to them were soon occupied, so they ended their conversation. Not much later, they were walking off the platform and onto the Liverpool Street station concourse, Tom pointed over to the heel bar.
‘I’ll get the key sorted out,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go over to Upper Crust and get us a couple of baguettes? Meet you over there.’
‘No,’ said Amy, pulling her bag strap tighter.
‘All right; a sandwich or something.’
‘I don’t mean that. I mean I don’t want us to get separated.’
‘It’s only - sorry; let’s get the key done, and then some lunch. Then we’ll head on back down to Croydon.’
A Circle Line trip round to Victoria while they ate saw them on their way back over the river.
‘We really need to get hold of a car,’ Tom yawned. ‘All this train travel is wearing me out.’
‘Won’t we need one anyway?’ Amy asked. ‘You know, when we check out those postcodes that Jimmy gave Lisa.’
‘We will, yeah.’
‘Where can we - or you rather - get one from?’
‘I rather fancy there’s a place at home. Along the High Road. We’ll check it out when we get back. Then we can go to your office tomorrow, and look into those locations Sunday.’
‘We’re here,’ Amy said, as the train pulled into South Croydon.
‘Good. Don’t want to spend too long down here,’ replied Tom as they
alighted.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Amy, looking at her watch. ‘It’s only half three. How do you know anybody’ll be in?’
‘I sent Jane a text while you were asleep. Sully’s working from home today, so he’ll be in.’
‘Okay. Right.’
‘I’m quite pleased about that, actually.’
‘How so? You get on with Jane, don’t you?’
‘I do,’ said Tom slowly, as they walked away from the station. ‘It’s just she seems a bit funny about us having all this stuff.’
‘Maybe she feels as it’s her sister’s stuff...’
‘I know. I’d probably be the same. Still makes me a bit uneasy, though. That’s why I want to leave as soon as we can.’
‘Fine by me.’
‘You might want to wipe that streak of mayo off your face before we get there.’
‘What? Oh!’ Amy said, quickly wiping the corner of her mouth. ‘Is it gone?’
Grinning, Tom nodded as he rang Jane’s doorbell. He had to ring a couple of times before Sully answered.
‘Come in guys. Sorry to keep you waiting.’
As they walked into the flat they were hit by the smell of something cooking. It smelt very nice.
‘Something smells nice,’ said Tom.
‘What? Oh, right; thanks,’ said Sully. He led them into the lounge. The dining table was already set out for a meal for two. Blue placemats, with silver cutlery laid out, two wine goblets and a large bottle of Trezanti Rosso.
‘It’s our Friday night ritual,’ explained Sully. ‘Jane normally cooks when she gets in from work, but I am able to work from home some days, so on Fridays, we push the boat out, and I cook.’
‘What is it?’ asked Amy.
‘Beef Bourguignon. My speciality. Every time I say I’m going to cook it, Jane usually says something like frigging beef casserole again, but always eats it. Anyway, that’s what’s on the menu tonight.’
‘Well, it does smell nice,’ said Amy.
‘Thanks,’ smiled Sully, rinsing and drying his hands. ‘Now, Jane called to say you were coming. You wanted to see Lisa’s filofax, yes?’
‘Yes, that’s right, if that’s okay,’ said Tom.
‘It’s over here.’ Sully walked over to the sideboard and picked up a small black leather pouch.
Tom opened it up and flicked through the pages. ‘It’s Lisa’s contacts I wanted,’ he said. ‘There aren’t as many as I thought. Sully, have you got a pen and a sheet of paper? Rather than taking this away, then bringing it back again, I could just jot down her contacts.’
‘Sure thing.’ Sully leaned into the kitchen and came out with a sheet of A4 and a pen. ‘Take a seat. Do you guys want a coffee or something?’ he asked, while Tom and Amy started copying the names, addresses and contact numbers.
Tom looked up. ‘No, thanks. Be out of your hair as soon as we can.’
There were only a dozen or so contacts to copy, so it did not take Tom long to make a list. He fastened the filofax shut, and handed it back to Sully.
‘Thanks. I’ve got all I need. And can you give this back to Lisa as well?’ he enquired, fishing the original key to Lisa’s house out of his pocket.
‘When does Lisa get home?’ Tom asked as they made their way to the door.
‘Oh, not until after six. The meat should be really tender by then. Just the way she likes it.’
‘Well, tell her I said thanks, and I’ll be in touch at some time.’
‘Will do.’
‘And the food smells delicious,’ Amy added as they stepped into the hallway.
‘Thanks. I would invite you both to stay, but as it’s Friday night - well, you know...’
‘See you again,’ said Tom, as he and Amy walked down to street level.
*****
The wind was getting colder and stronger and it was beginning to rain. Tom and Amy quickened their pace as they walked back to the station.
‘That beef really did smell good,’ said Amy. ‘And we had two egg and tomato baguettes.’
‘That was our lunch. We could push the boat out tonight.’
‘And have what? You going to cook a Beef Bourguignon?’
‘Was thinking more of a beef curry. Takeaway.’
‘Going back to that meal,’ Tom said, as they stood on the platform. ‘There were two wine glasses, weren’t there? Large ones. And the wine – I’m no connoisseur, but I bet it was expensive.’
‘Mm. Why?’
‘Well, when Jane came to see me, just after Lisa - you know, she told me about her and Sully. She told me she was pregnant.’
‘How far gone?’
Tom shrugged. ‘She didn’t say. But said they’d need a new bedroom in the spring.’
‘So you’re asking why Jane is drinking large glasses of red wine?’ said Amy, as they climbed onto their train.
‘Something like that, yes.’
‘Perhaps she’s not drinking any wine herself. Perhaps - there could be loads of explanations, Mister Suspicious.’
‘Maybe you’re right. But another thing - she said they lived in a house. A two up, two down -’
‘Like Lisa’s?’
‘More or less. But they’re in a third floor flat. A very nice one, I grant you, but not a two up, two down.’
‘Are you sure that’s what she said?’
‘Of course. Why would she lie about where she lived? The sort of place she lived in?’
‘Maybe they are looking for that sort of place. When the baby comes, I mean.’
‘Yeah. Guess you’re right. She did seem all shaken up by Lisa’s death, after all.’
‘Well, there you go.’
‘Yeah,’ Tom said again. ‘Not really relevant to what’s in her filofax, though.’
As they spoke, they pulled in to Victoria. By the time they arrived, the rush hour was in full swing, and they had to push past the crowds to get to the tube station entrance. Tom held out his hand to guide her through the throng: she took it without hesitation.
‘So we’ll get the car tomorrow?’ Amy asked, as they waited for the train.
‘I think so,’ nodded Tom. ‘Once we’ve done that, we can get over to your office.’
‘You’re still coming in with me?’
‘Sure. Don’t worry. And we’ll take a look at what’s in that other locker. Then, on Sunday, we can check out that list of Jimmy Khan’s.’
‘What do you think it can be all about?’
‘The postcodes? Obviously locations. IP - I wonder if that’s Ipswich?’
‘Ipswich. But that’s miles away.’
‘I know. Can’t explain it. We’ll go online when we get back. Check where we’ll be headed.’
The rush hour extended their journey time by almost an hour. By the time they were walking back to Tom’s flat, it had been dark for over two hours and the cold wind and drizzle made the walk back very unpleasant. As they passed a parade of local shops they stopped off at an empty Indian restaurant and bought two takeaway dinners. Back at Tom’s, they quickly unwrapped the food and demolished it in less than five minutes.
‘Jesus, I was hungry,’ Tom said, leaning back in his chair.
‘Me too,’ agreed Amy, starting to collect the empty foil containers. As she stood to collect the dishes, Tom put his hand on her arm.
‘Wait,’ he said quietly, and eased her down to him. They kissed gently.
‘First things first,’ Amy said, pulling away and returning to the clearing up. ‘We do have all night.’
Tom laughed, and sat back in his seat. As he watched Amy clean up and switch the kettle on, he reached to his back pocket and pulled out the list he had copied of Lisa’s contacts.
‘What’s that?’ Amy asked as she saw him reading through it. ‘Is that from Lisa’s filofax?’
Tom nodded, as he studied the names.
‘Anything of interest there?’
‘Not really,’ he answered. ‘Jane and Sully, her doctor, her parents, some friends - I recognise a
couple of the names - and this one... Mm?’
‘What one’s that?’ Amy asked as she sat down with him.
‘It’s someone - a guy I think, by the name -,’ said Tom slowly, as he read out the name, ‘called Pawel Walczak. Don’t know if I’ve pronounced that right.’
‘Sounds Polish.’
‘Hm. Think it is.’
‘What’s special about him?’
‘I don’t know him, but look where he lives. 23B Penywern Road.’
‘Is that one of the postcodes on the list?’
‘No, that was SE something. This one’s in Earls Court.’
‘And?’
Tom looked up. ‘When Lisa fell in front of that train, she was at Green Park. On the westbound Piccadilly Line. You go westbound on the Piccadilly, after half a dozen stops you get to Earls Court.’
Tom paused and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I wonder if she was headed there.’
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Why do you think she was going to see him?’ Amy asked. ‘Who is he anyway?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Tom shrugged. ‘But think about it: it all happened on the westbound Piccadilly platform at Green Park. I originally assumed that she had maybe dozed off on the way to Waterloo and had got off at Green Park to turn round and go back. She couldn’t have let me know because there’s no signal on the tube. It wasn’t until I went to see the police that they told me where it happened. They couldn’t offer any explanation; neither can I. But here is one of her contacts who is on the Piccadilly westbound. Bit tenuous, I know, but it’s a thought.’
‘Check her call log. See if she called him before.’
Tom retrieved Lisa’s phone from the lounge and switched it on. ‘Only one bar left,’ he said. ‘I’ll try and charge it afterwards.’
Once the phone had booted up, Tom went to the call log.
‘Right. There’s her call to me just after four. Another one to me at 17:24. Then: here we are - 17:28 to another number. What’s this Pawel guy’s number?’
Amy read it out to him.
‘Yes; that’s it. She tried to call him just before half five. Then me one more time five minutes later.’
‘Why did she call you the second time? I thought you were going to meet at six?’
‘We were. But I don’t get it. She never called me at half five.’
