Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set

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Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set Page 13

by Paul J. Teague


  ‘We need to retrace events, Ellie. Who saw us leave together? Did anyone run into us when we came back to the hotel?’

  ‘No, the only person who knew that we were together at the end of the evening was that boring engineer guy. What’s his name? Fergus?’

  ‘Yes, he left the pub before us, he can’t confirm that we returned together. Jenny told me that the CCTV is out over the entrance. There’s no evidence there. What about the pub?’

  ‘It proves nothing, Pete. Just that we left together, at the most. There’s nothing to disprove that we went our separate ways when we got back to the hotel.’

  ‘Okay, so nobody has to know about us going back to my room. Did you leave anything in there last night?’

  ‘We’re not going to be suspects, Pete. We don’t need to do a complete DNA sweep of the area.’

  ‘I know, I know. But come on, Ellie, we’ve reported on these things a million times between us. People make stupid mistakes, that’s how they get caught out lying. We need to make sure we’re telling a white lie here, we mustn’t mess up the police investigation.’

  ‘I didn’t leave anything in your room, Pete. I was just carrying what I arrived with. When the fire alarm went off, I got dressed and picked up my bag. There’s no toothbrush, no condom, no hairbrush.’

  ‘Okay, so we’re clear. Did we see or hear anything? Let’s think it through.’

  ‘There was nothing, Pete. Just normal noises. Comings and goings in the corridor. You were out cold after the sex anyway. I’m amazed you heard the fire alarm. Did you know that you snore a bit by the way? Sexy that!’

  A smile from Ellie. She was teasing again. At least she’d dropped the innuendo about Jenny.

  ‘I’m sure that we’re clear, Ellie. I’ll tell the story as if I came back on my own – there’s nothing there that can mess up the police investigation. They’re definitely going to need to talk to me, but your room is nowhere near the crime area, they’re only going to ask you to come forward if you saw anything unusual.’

  I saw a momentary change in Ellie’s expression – if I’d blinked, I’d have missed it.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s nothing, just a thought, it’s nothing.’

  ‘Are you sure we’re good to go on this, Ellie? We mustn’t foul this up.’

  ‘I was thinking about Tony Miller. You remember I said that I thought I’d seen him in the car park?’

  ‘You said you were mistaken—’

  ‘I was … I’m sure it wasn’t him. What if it was, though? He’s a nutter. And the police know about him already. If it was him, this will come back to bite us.’

  ‘Think it through, Ellie. How likely is it? Did he ever follow you this far?’

  ‘He must have been angry after my brothers got to him. But he backed off. I haven’t seen him for a while. No, it can’t have been him. It’s just my paranoia.’

  ‘I’ll tell them about the door being slightly open, that’s got to have something to do with it. The hotel guy – Derek – saw me leave my room on my own. Did you see him when you left?’

  ‘No, I could hear him along the corridor, but he was on the other side of the fire doors. He didn’t see me leaving your room, I’m certain of that.’

  ‘Is there anything we’ve missed? I want to tell the cops everything, but they don’t need to know about us. Nobody needs to know about us.’

  ‘So long as that wasn’t Tony Miller – and I’m sure it wasn’t – we’re clear.’

  Her face changed again. She was used to being on TV, she knew how to control her facial expressions. But I’d caught a glimpse again, there was something troubling her.

  ‘What is it, Ellie? Come on, I need to know. If it’s going to cock this up, you have to tell me.’

  She looked uneasy. I wondered what else could come out of the woodwork to make this weekend any worse than it already was.

  ‘There’s one more thing I need to tell you, Pete. I’m sorry, I didn’t think it mattered. Not until you mentioned that something had happened. I’ve been trying to decide whether to tell you.’

  ‘Go on, what is it?’

  ‘You know when the alarm went off last night and I couldn’t find my bra? You were out like a light after we’d finished that third time, I think you were still coming round while I was looking for it. Well, I think I must have left it in your room. I can’t find it anywhere.’

  I felt my heart sink. I’d used that phrase many a time, but as Ellie was talking to me, I finally experienced it for myself. My heart actually felt as if it was sinking. I must have looked like a man in shock. Things had just got complicated.

  ‘What’s up, Pete? Your face just turned white.’

  ‘That was supposed to be a single occupancy booking, Ellie. If the police are searching all of the rooms on the ground floor, they’re bound to find it and start asking awkward questions. It’s going to cause us problems if they find that. We might have to admit to what we did.’

  ‘It’s fine, Pete, just say it had been left by a previous guest. It’s easy enough to explain away.’

  ‘But there’s something I haven’t told you yet. My wife came to the hotel last night. She was here to surprise me for my birthday. She must have been right next to my room. I don’t know where she is now. But the police are going to know that she was here. They’re soon going to link her up with what we did last night.’

  As a radio broadcaster, I’m used to juggling a number of different things at one time. I have to be able to read a news bulletin while getting my timing accurate to the second, take a swig of tea while a news clip is running, and absorb the details of a breaking news story in the middle of it all. Even so, this situation was challenging me.

  I had too many things to do, all shouting to be done immediately. I was becoming increasingly worried about Meg’s whereabouts. There had been a death after all, it was probably this missing kid. But where had Meg got to? And why was Alex trying to reach me? It was unusual for her to communicate as directly and urgently as that. The police needed to speak to me as well. Of course, they did. There had been a murder in the room next to mine. Not a murder, perhaps, but certainly a death. And Ellie’s bra was missing. The one thing that could place her in that hotel room with me.

  ‘I have to go downstairs and find out what’s happened. I need to contact my wife.’

  Ellie hesitated, then nodded. I realised that was the first time I’d properly acknowledged to her that my wife was involved.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but you knew the deal, right? You knew there was someone on the scene, didn’t you? I know I’m a shit.’

  ‘Yes, I ... I don’t know, Pete. I assumed you were a free agent, like me with Dave. I know we’d only just split up, and it wasn’t a great thing for me to do ... but I was a free agent. I assumed you were something similar. Divorced or separated or something.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know I’m a dickhead. It falls into the ‘or something’ category. I love my wife, but we’re going through a tough time. What’s happened will probably stop us separating. If she’s okay ...’

  ‘Look, get down there, Pete, find out what’s going on. We can go to confession when we know that she’s safe. Talk to the police and let me know what’s happening. I’ll stay here. I’m sure it’ll be alright.’

  I unplugged my phone and took it with me. I’d find out what Alex wanted on the way down in the lift.

  ‘Check there’s no one in the corridor, would you?’ I asked Ellie. No point making anybody suspicious. She gave the all clear and I entered the corridor and headed in the direction of the lifts.

  Fergus bloody Ogilvy was standing there waiting to get in. The geek from the night before. Engineering department, he had to be.

  ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ he asked.

  ‘All good, thanks,’ I replied, hoping not to get too embroiled with him. ‘How was your session today, as boring as mine was?’

  Fergus smiled.

  ‘Ours was good actually. The use
of Voice Over Internet Protocol in broadcasting. Fascinating stuff!’

  Yeah, I’ll bet! I kept my thoughts to myself, but Fergus had something else that he wanted to say.

  ‘Did that guy catch up with you last night, your mate?’

  I looked at him, I didn’t know what he was talking about.

  ‘Which guy?’

  ‘After I left you in the pub, he walked into the hotel with me. I told him that you were right behind me and that he’d catch you if he waited a few minutes.’

  ‘What did he look like?’ I asked. Surely it wasn’t Jem. Who else could it be?

  ‘Dark hair. Medium height. Tracksuit top. I haven’t seen him again. Oh, actually, I did. Saw him briefly after the fire alarm. What a nuisance that was!’

  I made a point of not knowing anyone who wore a tracksuit for anything other than exercise purposes. Who was this? Nobody I knew.

  ‘Did he ask for me by name?’

  The lift finally arrived on my floor and we stepped in.

  ‘No, he didn’t, now I think about it. Though I don’t know your name either. It’s Max isn’t it?’

  ‘No, I’m Pete. Pete Bailey. Who did he ask for then?’

  ‘He wanted to know if I’d seen Ellie and her work friend. That lady you were speaking to, it was Ellie, wasn’t it? He sounded like you all knew each other. I was a bit merry, I didn’t think anything of it. There was nobody in reception – I left him waiting there. So he was gone when you got back? How long were you after I left you? They were just closing up when I left.’

  Bloody engineer types. So analytical. Fergus was a potential problem. He knew I’d been with Ellie. Time to plant a white lie. I came up with one on the spur of the moment, no time to think it through, but it aligned with what Ellie and I had discussed.

  ‘There was nobody there when we got back to the hotel. Ellie needed to use the toilets before we left, I wanted to hang back and walk her over. We went our separate ways when we got back, nobody was waiting in reception. Strange.’

  A lie. A small one. Fergus would share his information with the police. Or he’d volunteer it when he heard about the death in the hotel. By telling him that Ellie and I had gone our separate ways, it would only confirm our story. Fergus could reveal the presence of this mystery man. It wasn’t Jem, different hair colour. The police would need to know about him, but it wouldn’t involve Ellie and me. The only thing that might cause some difficulties for me was Ellie’s discarded bra.

  The lift doors opened and we walked around the corner into reception. There were police all over the place, my corridor had become a crime scene. Jenny was telling a disgruntled middle-aged man that his room was no longer available and that he’d have to use a hotel elsewhere in the city.

  ‘I booked this room online two months ago, and now you’re telling me that it’s no longer available? So much for your snug-at-night guarantee!’

  One of the police officers standing nearby had clocked him kicking off and came to Jenny’s rescue.

  ‘This is the scene of a murder investigation, sir. The young lady is having to redirect you because we’ve had to close off an entire ground-floor corridor.’

  The miserable git huffed and puffed a bit, then moved along.

  I dismissed Fergus with a ‘see you later’ then walked up to the young police officer.

  ‘What’s going on in there?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m afraid there’s a murder investigation going on, sir. There’s been an incident in the hotel overnight.’

  ‘Can I get back to my room? It’s along that corridor.

  ‘You’re not Mr Bailey, are you? Room 123? We need to speak to you, sir.’

  ‘I know, I know, that’s why I’m here. By the way, you need to speak to a chap called Fergus. Fergus Ogilvy, I’m sure that’s his name. Jenny – the receptionist – can find his room number for you. He just went to the bar. He might have some interesting information for you.’

  The police officer took out his notepad and jotted down the information that I’d given him.

  ‘We may well be able to release your property to you, sir, but we won’t be able to allow you back into that room tonight. If you could wait here, Mr Bailey, I’ll find somebody who can speak to you.’

  ‘Can you tell me who was killed?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that yet, sir.’

  I almost lost my patience but checked myself.

  ‘Are you able to say if the deceased is male or female?’ I tried again.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir. I can’t release any details of the investigation just yet.’

  ‘I’m a journalist, I’m quite used to all of this stuff—’ I began, but he shut me down. He was only young, but he could still spot a bullshitter from that distance.

  ‘Then you of all people will know that we can’t release any details until the body has been identified and next of kin informed.’

  I conceded.

  ‘I’ll wait over here,’ I said, making my way to one of the chairs in reception. Jenny was busy redirecting customers who wanted to check in for the evening. I was desperate to know about Meg. I had to know about Meg.

  My phone had a small charge, enough to make it useful again. I checked for messages from Meg. Nothing. I texted her again. I phoned home. I rang her mobile phone. Nothing. Just answerphone messages. It was infuriating.

  Alex had called and texted again. Several times. I had to see what was up. Another text. FFS Pete, check Meg’s Facebook feed. Then call me. I need to know you’re OK.

  I opened up Facebook. Loads of notifications. All about something Meg had posted.

  You both okay?

  WTF? Is that a joke? Bad taste or what?

  Has someone hacked Meg’s account?

  I went to my feed and scrolled down fast. I passed it the first time. It was sandwiched between a video of a dog singing along to a piano tune and an advert for a hair colouring product.

  Meg had posted something via Facebook Live. I didn’t even know she knew how to use it.

  I recognised where the video had been shot immediately. The thumbnail made it obvious, I could tell from the colour scheme. Meg had made that video in one of the rooms at the Overnight Inn.

  I will never forget the content of that video. It’s stuck in my mind forever, I can repeat the dialogue word for word. It’s a testament to Meg’s quick thinking and strength of character that it ever got shot at all.

  I ignored all of the comments, popped in my ear buds and clicked the play icon. It had been live-streamed at 1:13am, it was the recorded archive that I was able to view. Meg must have sneaked out her phone and tried to capture what was happening, until she was discovered and stopped.

  The video was shaky, sometimes blurred and often pointing away from the action. However, the sound was clear and it was obvious what was going on. The lighting was poor, but not so bad that it made it impossible to work out what was happening.

  The video started in the middle of something, it didn’t have a clear beginning. I didn’t know either of the two people who were being filmed.

  ‘... the fuck up and keep quiet.’ A man’s voice, older I’d guess, definitely not a young man.

  ‘Please, I won’t tell anyone, just let us leave ...’

  The second voice was younger, possibly a teenager, deep voice, newly flowing testosterone. He was scared, very scared. The camera settled and the pixelation sorted itself out.

  It was a room in the OverNight Inn. I could tell by the colour of the carpet, the bed linen and blue lighting at the back of the headboard. It was very distinctive. It was identical to my own room, only the orientation made everything on the opposite side. I guessed that whoever was filming was on the floor, by the radiator under the window.

  I flinched. The fist of the older man went hard into the face of the younger man who was lying on the floor by the edge of the bed. The younger man began to sob – like me, he’d probably never seen any violence in his life.

  He was OverNight Inn staff. This had
to be Jackson. He was dressed in the same light blue shirt as Jenny and was wearing a gold name badge. The video wasn’t sharp enough to catch the name, but it had to be Jackson. Poor kid, he looked terrified. He was whimpering.

  ‘What time is this woman coming?’ the older man asked again. He had dark hair. Was this the man Fergus had spoken to? There was a tracksuit top discarded on the bed. Shit, was this Tony Miller?

  ‘She’s meeting me at two. Please don’t hurt her—’

  Another punch. Jackson’s head was on the floor, so when the blow came, it pounded into him, there was nothing to break its velocity. It was thrown by a violent man. It wasn’t half-hearted or tentative, this man had used violence before.

  ‘I’m going to show her a good time,’ the older man goaded, ‘show her what a real man feels like.’

  Jackson began to struggle. The older man – Tony, it had to be – was kneeling by his side in the dominant position, able to throw a punch whenever he wanted. He put his hand to Jackson’s throat, forcing it down hard. I could see Jackson’s feet begin to move, he was thrashing around, doing his best to find anything that could give him an advantage.

  ‘Don’t want me to play with your girlie? The ladies love it when they get some attention from Tony ...’

  Shit. So it was Tony Miller. Ellie’s stalker had been in the building. He must have come for Ellie.

  ‘... and I’m going to have your girlie. Now, you be a good boy and tell me her name. I like to say their name when I take them. Makes it personal. Romantic. I’m gonna release my hand, keep things nice and quiet now, okay? What’s her name? She got a nice ass?’

  Tony slowly removed his hand. All I could hear was Jackson trying to catch his breath, struggling for air. Tony’s hand hovered over his neck.

  ‘She’s called Moira. Her name’s Moira. Don’t you dare hurt her—’

  ‘Shut your mouth. What kind of a name is Moira? She’d better have a nice ass. Has she got a nice butt with a name like Moira?’

  Behind Tony’s back, I saw Jackson’s left leg lift up and hook the kettle off the side of the desk. I’ll give him this much, he was doing his best to protect Jenny.

 

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