Bread, Dead and Wed
Page 19
“Anyway, she'd been seeing a guy for a while who she was really keen on; he was staying in town for six months to co-write a guide to London’s top fifty restaurants. Sometimes, she'd go off to stay with him at his swanky hotel and I wouldn't see her for ages. Then she'd turn up again, on my doorstep, like she was walking on air. She was so happy.”
She stopped and gulped down a cup of water. “One day, when I hadn't seen her for a month, she came to the house to tell me she wanted me to meet the guy she'd been seeing. She dragged me off to a cafe we used to go to where he was waiting. That was the first time I met Roman and I immediately knew why Naomi was so besotted. Back then, he was one of those people you just couldn’t take your eyes off. And, when he wanted to, he could turn on the charm till you felt woozy—if you were in a room packed with people, he’d make you feel like you were the only person there.
“He took us both to dinner and flirted outrageously with me. I thought he probably flirted with everyone, so I didn’t read too much into it. No one was more surprised than me when he turned up at the house one day.
"He said he’d told Naomi he couldn’t see her any more, because he wanted to be with me. I should have told him to get lost but I was young and easily flattered. I asked him how Naomi had taken the news and he said she’d taken it well, and that I shouldn’t worry about her.
“Then he gave me a thousand pounds and told me he wanted me to spend some time with him; to be his ‘special friend’, he called it. And that’s where it all started. I went out with him and he paid me well for my time. He was odd and quirky; different to the guys I usually met, and he was great company. I stayed at his hotel, he bought me nice clothes, took me to fantastic restaurants, introduced me to celebrities, and treated me better than I’d ever been treated by anyone before.”
The melancholy smile vanished from her face.
“But then I found out that Naomi had no idea Roman and I were seeing each other, and not only did she have no idea, she’d been waiting for him to get in touch with her. She’d been so worried that something had happened to him, she went to his hotel, and found me in his room. That was when I realised he’d lied to me about breaking things off with her. He hadn’t even had the decency to go and see her to tell her face to face. He’d simply dropped her like a stone.
“I told her how sorry I was, but she was inconsolable. Joan said I should give her some time, so I did. When I eventually saw her again, she apologised for not being around, but said she’d needed some time to get over Roman.”
Monique squeezed her eyes shut. “I should have left him as soon as I saw how badly he’d treated her but, at the time, I couldn’t see further than the amazing lifestyle I’d been living and I didn’t want it to stop.” She put her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands.
“Naomi and I arranged to go out. We went to a local pub, drank too much, danced on the tables to live music, and had the best time. We walked back to her hostel, arm in arm, and promised not to leave it so long before we went out again. Then, she went up to her room, wrote a suicide note, and jumped from the window. I was waiting for a cab to take me back to Roman’s hotel when she fell, just a few feet away from me.
“Joan told me later that the note Naomi had left said she couldn’t get over losing Roman, and the thought of him with someone else was too painful. She said she thought it would be best for everyone if she wasn’t around any more.” Monique shrugged. “It was awful. Just awful. Joan was in a terrible state afterwards - we both were - and I spent a lot of time with her. I think it gave us both some comfort.”
She nodded to the newspaper article. “After the funeral, Naomi’s parents did everything they could to get Joan arrested, but there was no proof of any impropriety, so the police couldn’t do a thing. The girls closed ranks around her, and I supported her however I could, but I couldn’t stay forever. Roman and I left London soon afterwards, and I only ever went back if we were in the area and I could snatch an hour or so to visit Naomi’s grave, and see Joan.”
“And you were with Roman until his death?” said Fiona.
“Yes.” Monique leaned back in the chair and looked at the ceiling. “Although I wish I’d had the guts to leave him when he changed.”
“Changed?”
Monique nodded. “Once I’d got used to the good life, he turned on me like he did everyone else. One evening, over dinner, in a beautiful restaurant, while we were eating wonderful food and drinking fabulous wine, he calmly told me that if I ever left him, or was disloyal to him, he’d tell the press that I used to live on the streets, and the things I used to do to earn money, and then he’d take me back to the gutter where he found me.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I might have been able to cope with that but he told me if I ever disappointed him, he’d give the police the evidence they’d been looking for to prove Joan had been running an illegal business from the hostel. Most of the guys who had dealings with her would have done anything to keep their identity secret, but Roman didn’t care who knew that he paid young women to spend time with him. That’s why I stayed with him—I was too scared to leave in case he ever told the police about Joan. If he had, I would never have forgiven myself. I already felt responsible for Naomi’s death—I couldn’t have coped with the guilt if anything had happened to Joan, too.”
She ran her hands over her weary face.
“Anything I used to feel for Roman vanished a long time ago, DS Farrell, when I realised how mean and nasty and downright malicious he was. If it wasn’t for him, I might have some friends, but everyone hates me because they know he used me to find the secrets they were keeping so he could blackmail them.
The only tears I’ve cried since he died have been tears of relief. Relief that I’ll never have to feel his clammy hands on me again, or smell his garlic breath as he puffed and panted in my face, or kiss him while he had food stuck in that ridiculous moustache, and that I’ll never, ever have to touch his disgusting body again. He revolted me in every way - physically and emotionally - but he took me from a life on the streets, and he demanded I show him how grateful I was every single night.
“You think I’m sorry he’s dead? You’re wrong, DS Farrell. But if you think I killed him, think again. As much as I wanted to stab him while he slept for the way he treated Naomi, I saved that fantasy for my dreams. I don’t know who murdered Roman, but it certainly wasn’t me.” She met Fiona’s eyes with defiance. “Is there anything else you need to ask me?”
Fiona shook her head. “No. You can go.”
____________
In the evening briefing, Nathan counted off the suspects on his fingers.
“As far as we know, there are five people, all with very credible motives for wanting to see Roman Haley dead: Gavin Doyle who couldn’t afford to lose his job because he thought his wife would stop him from seeing his kids if he couldn’t keep up the maintenance payments; Larissa Reece, who didn’t want the benefits office to find out she’d been scamming the system, or her sister to find out she’d been having an affair with her husband; Monique Hathaway who blamed Roman for the death of a good friend and wanted to protect Joan Walden from a possible police investigation; Gordon Buckingham who lost the job he loved to Roman Haley, but was miles away when he was killed, and who also had ample motive for wanting to harm Olivia Floyd-Martin, but didn’t; and Olivia Floyd-Martin herself, who had a long-standing rivalry with Roman and multiple reasons to want him out of the way, but who has possibly been a target of malicious activity herself.”
He sighed heavily and dug his hands deep into his pockets as he paced back and forth. “We’ve got the suspects, we’ve got the motives, but we haven’t got the proof that any of them harmed a hair on Roman Haley’s head, let alone killed him. Same goes for Olivia.
“Of course, they’re all denying they had anything to do with his death, but someone’s responsible and if not one of them, then who? I know you’re all trying your best, but we need to try harder. Check and recheck e
very lead we’ve had so far, and every piece of information. I feel like we’re so close but we’re missing something, and until we find it, the last piece of the puzzle is never going to slot into place.”
Chapter 20
“Mummy, it looks really cold out there,” said Molly, her hot forehead pressed against the cold window.
“It is. That’s why I’m wrapping up warm,” said Charlotte, pulling on her windcheater. “I want to walk the dogs before it starts raining too hard, which it looks like it’s going to any minute if those black clouds are anything to go by, but I won’t be long. I don’t like leaving you on your own but if you’re coming down with something, I want you to stay in the warm.” She kissed Molly on the forehead and smoothed a cool hand over her cheek. “Don’t open the door to anyone, understand?”
“’kay, Mummy.” Molly dropped, cross-legged, onto the window seat. “Is Ava coming today?”
“I have no idea, but if she wants some company, she might drop by, I suppose. She doesn’t like being out in this weather, though, because it makes her hair frizzy.”
Molly giggled and did an almost perfect imitation of Ava’s voice. “Oh, my dear, I simply can’t do a thing with it!”
Charlotte chuckled as she clipped the dogs’ leads to their collars. “Right, what mustn’t you do while I’m gone?”
“Open the door to anyone.”
“Correct. I’ll be back in about forty minutes.”
Charlotte stepped out and turned her back to the gale which was growing in strength. Deciding against their usual beach walk, she took a left turn and headed for the town centre, Pippin and Panda trotting along beside her, unbothered by the wind, and pulling at their leads every time a leaf blew past their noses.
The wind dropped a little when they got amongst the shelter of the buildings, a light drizzle starting to fall. She pulled up her hood, shuddering as she walked into the market square and saw Roman’s culinary school, still cordoned off with blue and white police tape.
It was probably something to do with her present condition that the thought his murderer could be walking the same streets Molly rode her bike up and down, and flew along on her roller skates, made her feel nauseous. Even though Molly was never allowed out unsupervised, nutters like the person who had killed Roman Haley were unpredictable at best, and at worst, most likely completely undetectable in a room full of perfectly pleasant people who didn’t harbour any murderous intentions at all: The perfect place for someone with nefarious notions to hide in plain sight.
She walked on and pushed all thoughts of murderers from her mind, focusing instead on a couple who were losing a fight with an umbrella bloated by the wind, which eventually blew completely inside out and out of the man’s hand. As he started to run after it, he was overtaken by a tall figure, his long strides catching up with it quickly.
Charlotte didn’t have to see his face to know who it was. Slightly hunched at the shoulder, with a thick jacket and a long scarf flowing out behind him, Roy Tanner strode towards her after returning the umbrella to the couple. As he drew closer, his eyes told her he was smiling, even though his face was covered by his scarf from the nose down.
“Morning, Charlotte. I thought it was you.” He pulled up his scarf and wiped it across his eyes. “This damn wind’s so strong, it’s making me cry! Anyway, how’s things?” He bent to stroke the dogs and looked up at her.
“Oh, everything’s fine,” said Charlotte. “I’m surprised to see you still here. I thought you’d have left St. Eves by now. Izzy went back ages ago, didn’t she?”
“Yeah. It’s a shame, ‘cos we got really friendly again—we sort of picked up where we left off. I really miss her, actually.” He gave Charlotte a wonky smile. “We’re keeping in touch, though. In fact, I said I’d call her later for a chat.”
Charlotte nodded. “Out of interest, don’t you have to get back to work? Not that it’s any business of mine how long you stay here, but won’t the care home be missing you?”
Roy shook his head. “I don’t work at the care home any more.”
“What? Why? Did they object to you taking extra time off?”
“No, nothing like that. I just realised I didn’t want to go back, so I handed in my notice. No time like the present, as they say. And The St. Eves’ Tavern is hardly chock-a-block at the moment, so they’ve extended my booking. I’m staying on in St. Eves for a while.
“It was probably a little impulsive - although my mother would say irresponsible - but after Roman Haley got bumped off, and Olivia Floyd-Martin had that near miss - it made me realise that you just don’t know what’s going to happen in life, do you? It’s certainly too short to be spending five days a week in a job you don’t really enjoy, that’s for sure.
“So… I’m throwing caution to the wind! It’s been so long since I’ve done what I wanted to do, rather than always what Becky wanted to do, I’m really enjoying myself. I mean, it’s not like I don’t need money coming in - I do - but I’m sure I can find work somewhere. I can go fruit picking, or work in a kitchen, or do odd jobs—I just know if I don’t take this time for myself, I’ll regret it.” He stood up and groaned as his joints cracked. His eyes crinkled at the corners and Charlotte smiled back at him.
“Well, in that case, congratulations on your new adventure! I’m sure I’ll see you out and about. Shame the weather’s not a bit nicer—it’s hardly the Costa del Sol at the moment.”
Roy shrugged. “A bit of bad weather doesn’t bother me. When I was a medical supplies salesman, I used to drive all over the country in all kinds of weather. It’ll take more than a gale and a bit of rain to keep Roy Tanner off the streets.” He winked and stepped back to kick up his heels, bumping into someone who was right behind him.
“Ouch, you clumsy oaf! That was my bloody foot!”
Roy turned to apologise and found himself face to face with Olivia Floyd-Martin, glaring at him from under the fur-lined hood of her quilted coat, which was dripping with rain like a mini-waterfall in front of her face.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. I didn’t mean to…”
“Oh, stop going on about it!” Olivia dismissed him with a scowl and a wave of her hand, before turning to Charlotte, a wide smile spreading across her face. “I was just on my way to see you to tell you the news—you’ll never believe what’s happened!”
“Well, if that smile’s anything to go by, I guess it must be good news,” said Charlotte.
“It’s the best news! Simon called me first thing this morning and asked if I’d go back to work!”
“Really? That’s brilliant!” Charlotte gave her a one-armed hug. “I thought he said you should stay away until Roman’s killer had been found?”
“He did, but I think the consequences of not having me around are starting to affect bums on seats in the rooftop restaurant,” said Olivia, without a hint of modesty. “He knows that place doesn’t work properly without me, Charlotte—no one can run that kitchen like I can; no one’s got my taste buds, or the same standards. I mean, it’s not doing badly, but there have been a few complaints since I’ve been away, and there have been a few dinner services where they haven’t been fully booked, and that’s almost unheard of. Anyway, he wants me to start back tomorrow afternoon, but I’m going back in tonight to do a stock check.”
“Tonight?”
Olivia nodded. “Yeah. At this time of year, the kitchen’s closed and everyone’s gone home by half-eleven, so I’m going in after that. It’ll give me an ideal opportunity before tomorrow to check things over without people bothering me every two minutes. And, anyway, I can’t wait to get back, so the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well, I’m really happy for you,” said Charlotte. “I take it Simon must have got it through his thick head at last that you had nothing to do with the murder?”
Olivia shrugged. “Must have done. He said, ‘As the police don’t seem to be any closer to finding Roman Haley’s killer, and despite you being a pers
on of interest in his murder, the majority of customers are desperate to see you back in the restaurant, so we feel it would be best if you returned to work.’” She rolled her eyes. “That guy is such a moron. Anyway, I must get some kip before I go in tonight. I’ll see you soon.”
She turned and saw Roy still standing behind her and the smile disappeared from her face, to be quickly replaced with another scowl.
“Nasty bruise,” said Roy, pointing to her forehead.
“What are you still doing here?” she said, throwing him a filthy look before stomping off through the puddles without stopping for a reply.
“She’s a charmer, isn’t she?” said Roy, his face deadpan as he looked up at the clock tower which loomed in the middle of the square. “Actually, I’d better get off, too—lots to do. Good to see you.”
He smiled and stroked the dogs before pulling his long scarf over his face again, digging his hands into his jacket pockets and stepping up his pace.
Nice guy, thought Charlotte, as she continued her walk.
____________
“I can’t abide this weather,” said Ava, peering out of the window at the fog that had suddenly descended like a grey blanket over St. Eves. “It makes my lips so dry. And I’m glad I cancelled my appointment at the hairdresser this morning. You know how my hair reacts to moisture, so it would have been a complete waste of money.”
“At least the wind’s dropped,” said Charlotte. “I’ve been back from walking the dogs for ages and I’m only just starting to get warm.”
“Do you think Molly will be alright for school on Monday?” said Ava.
“I’m sure she will. She started feeling a bit dizzy about an hour ago, so she went back to bed, but I’m sure she’ll feel better when she wakes up. She’s been fighting off a cold for a few days now - everyone in her class has had it - so it was only a matter of time before she caught it.” Charlotte yawned and stretched up her arms. “I don’t know why, but weather like this always makes me sleepy.”