Murder Undeniable : a gripping murder mystery

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Murder Undeniable : a gripping murder mystery Page 8

by Anita Waller


  Tessa nodded, deep in thought. ‘What was he like?’

  ‘He was very nice. Thoughtful, complimentary, funny. I really enjoyed his company. And good-looking up to the point that bullet blew away his face.’ She felt tears prick her eyes.

  ‘Let me take you back to the time where that small group decided to go clubbing. Did you know any of them?’

  ‘Not really, I can’t remember their names. Anthony ordered four taxis to take us to Steel, and then they left their car keys at reception. The men said they would be back for their cars when they were sober enough to drive.’

  ‘What did Anthony do with his house key?’

  Mouse looked surprised at the question. ‘Erm, let me try to picture this. I can see us all milling around in the reception at Alhambra, deciding what to do.’ She was quiet for a moment. ‘He removed it from his key ring, handed the car key to the receptionist who tagged it with the registration number, and then he slipped his house key in his jacket pocket. Do you need it to get into his house?’

  Tessa shook her head. ‘No, we’ve already been in there. It was just curiosity really. It wasn’t with his personal possessions. We have his wallet, his watch, his ring, but no house key. It just seemed strange, and I wondered if you’d put it in your bag or something to keep it safe for him.’

  ‘No. I’m sure he put it in his right jacket pocket.’

  ‘Another mystery then,’ Marsden smiled. ‘This damn case is full of them.’

  Leon stepped between the patio doors and joined them. He once again bent to kiss his wife, who responded with a smile. He took every opportunity to kiss her.

  ‘I’ve met Beth,’ he said. ‘It seems you neglected to mention the colour of my skin.’

  ‘Colour of your skin?’ Oh…’ Kat held her hand to her mouth and burst out laughing. ‘It’s ebony, Mouse. No big deal.’

  Mouse grinned in response.

  ‘So, Beth, tell me if anything at all strange happened on that night.’ Marsden attempted to bring the subject back around to the murder.

  ‘I can’t think of anything,’ Mouse said. ‘It was a perfectly normal evening, like a hundred others I’ve attended over the last two years. I recognised one or two of the men there, although don’t bother asking me for their names because I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t, tell you. They don’t use their real names with escorts. I didn’t know Anthony’s until we were forced into that alleyway. He told it to me when he realised things might not end well, and I told him my full name. It seemed the right thing to do.’

  Marsden nodded, as if digesting Mouse’s words. ‘And what will you do now?’

  ‘I’m pulling out of education for a start. I feel as if I’ve suddenly grown up. There’ll be no more of the escort world. I want to work for myself, but I’m taking time to get over this before I make any decisions. I’m selling my house, going to sort that tomorrow if I feel up to it. My two housemates are looking for new rooms, not happily, but it’s my decision. I’ll miss them, but it’s time to grow up.’

  Marsden stood. ‘Thank you, Beth. If anything does come back, please ring me. The clues on this case are a bit lacking, and to be honest, a return of your memory could be a massive breakthrough for us.’

  ‘I’ll see you to the door,’ Leon said, also standing.

  It was as Marsden was walking down the drive that she turned to him. ‘You didn’t know him… Anthony Jackson?’

  He shook his head. ‘Only his name really. He once attended a conference I was at, but we didn’t speak. I just saw his name on the attendees list. I know we were in the same business, but that wouldn’t give us a reason to be acquainted. Quite the opposite, actually.’

  Marsden stared at him, holding eye contact. ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’ The tingle in her spine told her something different.

  Chapter 9

  There was a total absence of moonlight. Cloud cover was thick, and rain was promised for later in the night. He didn’t want it raining yet; oh no, that wouldn’t help at all.

  He pressed the latch on the gate and slipped into the tarmacked back yard of the little house, so close to the Bramall Lane football ground. He had been told she had been released from the hospital, duly mended and spruced up, but he couldn’t risk her memory coming alive with anything.

  He knew she hadn’t remembered who he was yet; his nurse girlfriend kept him well informed for a little bit of the ready supply of drugs he always had. She had provided him with the slag’s address for a relatively small amount of cocaine. But he couldn’t trust that Bethan Walters never would remember, so she had to be dealt with.

  And it was all for the sake of the bigger picture. The day when he would have everything. With Anthony Jackson out of the way in such a spectacular fashion, life had looked good, but the slag had survived. Now she had to go, and properly this time.

  The infiltration into Anthony Jackson’s empire had already begun; he had met with his primary cohorts, had talks with them regarding bringing them across to him and forming one large organisation. They had been cautiously optimistic about it, because they were feeling rudderless. He had to strike now while they were mixed up and worried. But loose ends were no good.

  And this loose end was about to be tied off.

  He stood in the corner formed by the house wall and the dividing wall separating the yard from the neighbouring one; the darkest point. Inside his black balaclava he was sweating; it was a warm night that was about to get much warmer. He carefully lowered his backpack to the floor and removed the two bottles with the fabric sticking out of the top.

  Walking silently to the back door, inspected earlier in the day, he placed the suction cup on the window glass nearest to the lock. The glasscutter scored around it, and a hard thump broke the circle away from the rest of the single-glazed panel.

  The man reached his hand inside and turned the key. The door widened a few inches and stopped, so he re-closed it, removed the chain that was causing the problem and opened the door fully.

  He stepped into the kitchen and listened for any sounds. Nothing, utter silence.

  Quietly he went back to his corner outside, took the petrol can out of the backpack, then returned to sprinkle it on the stairs. He revisited the yard for the final equipment, the two petrol bombs.

  Slipping back inside to stand at the bottom of the stairs, he lit the first one and threw it to the top of the stairs where it exploded, and everything erupted into a huge fireball. The noise it made was horrific and he moved back into the kitchen, lit the second one and smashed it at the bottom of the stairs.

  Then he ran.

  He didn’t hang around to see the outcome; he guessed it might make the newspapers.

  Chapter 10

  The fire service didn’t recover the two bodies until the early hours of the day, so intense was the fire. News of the devastation reached Mouse when a friend rang her to find out if she was okay. They initially had crossed wires because Mouse thought she was asking following the shooting.

  Kat immediately rang Tessa Marsden, who hadn’t been told about it; she explained it came under Sheffield and not Chesterfield, but she would get back to them with any news.

  Mouse felt sick. She knew she had been targeted; it was her house. Whoever had left her for dead wanted to really finish the job.

  Ten minutes later, DI Marsden rang with the news that the fire had started around one in the morning, and two bodies had been recovered; both females, and both had died from smoke inhalation rather than burns.

  ‘No,’ Mouse moaned. ‘This can’t be. They’ve died because of me, because I did this bloody stupid job.’

  Kat pulled her close and held her. There was nothing she could say.

  Kat and Mouse stared at the smoke-blackened shell of the little house. It was an end-terrace property, and the fire service had been able to contain it sufficiently to stop it spreading to the adjoining house, but to Mouse’s eyes it looked destroyed. Like her.

  Three deaths since the night of the Alhambra
function, and once the press published the names of the victims of this fire, whoever was doing it would know she hadn’t been at home.

  ‘I’m scared, Kat,’ Mouse said quietly.

  Kat took her hand. ‘And I’m scared for you. I want us to go now, just to be on the safe side. I’m pretty anonymous because I’ve never lived and worked in Sheffield, so even if somebody is watching you they’re not going to know who I am.’

  ‘What shall I do about my car?’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘It’s across the road on a side street. Couldn’t park any closer the last time I was out in it.’

  ‘Is it okay where it is? No parking restrictions?’

  Mouse shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine.’

  ‘Then we’ll leave it for now. You’re not fit to drive yet, your shoulder is still stiff, and you’re still in varying degrees of pain.’

  Mouse smiled. ‘I’m trying to run before I can walk, aren’t I?’

  ‘You are. We’ll come back in a few days when everything is moving a bit easier on you and get it then. Let’s go home. You’ve an insurance company to ring. This needs fixing.’

  Chapter 11

  He was angry. He’d been smiling when he saw the headlines, and the picture of the blackened house, but then he’d read the accompanying article and the smile had stopped.

  The slag hadn’t been there. Two other bints had, so he had a partial thrill knowing they would have been friends of the slag, but he felt as though it had all been a wasted effort.

  Why the fuck hadn’t he made sure she was dead before he left that alleyway? And where the hell was she now?

  He slapped her across the face. Fran Drummond’s head rocked back on her neck and she cried out. ‘I don’t know where she is. Perhaps she’s gone to her nan’s, that old woman who used to come and see her.’

  ‘Christ almighty. What’s the old tart’s name? Stop pissing me about or I might have to hurt you.’

  ‘Doris Lester, I think. I heard her say it a couple of times to the policeman sat at the door.’ She was crying, he was scary when he was like this.

  ‘Address?’

  ‘No idea, but she caught the same bus as me one time, the 120, and got off at the Birley Hotel.’

  ‘I’ll fucking find her,’ he growled. ‘Get dressed, you’re going home. And stop bloody crying, I can’t stand it.’

  ‘You hurt me,’ she sobbed.

  ‘I’ll hurt you more if you don’t shut up. Now let me think. And get out of here.’

  She grabbed her clothes and ran for the bathroom. She tried splashing water on the redness in her cheek, but it had no effect – another door she would have to have walked into. She dressed quickly and silently opened the door. He was on his laptop, searching for Doris Lester, she guessed.

  Fran let herself out the house without saying another word to him, clutching on to her bag that held the small amount of cocaine he had given her for the “seeing to” she had given him.

  She tried not to think about the trouble she had just hefted on to the slight shoulders of Doris Lester.

  Chapter 12

  ‘How could they know my address, Kat?’ Mouse had been deep in thought on the journey back to Eyam. Nothing was making sense. ‘The police knew it, and so did the hospital, but that’s all.’

  ‘If somebody wants to know an address, it’s not difficult to find it, unless you’re an idiot like me and can’t work the Internet. I tried to find Jackson’s address in Eyam and couldn’t, but Leon did.’

  ‘Can’t work the Internet?’

  ‘No, it stops working when I touch it.’

  ‘Then it’s a good job you’ve got me in your life,’ Mouse responded with a grin. ‘In fact, as soon as I’m up to doing a bit of online shopping, I need a new laptop. Mine was in the house.’

  ‘Was there a lot of work on it?’ Kat’s troubled expression made Mouse laugh.

  ‘Oh, you do cheer me up, Kat. Yes there was all the work from my uni course, and lots of personal stuff but it doesn’t matter. It’s all saved. As soon as I log in to my various accounts, it will all come tumbling back to earth out of a cloud.’

  Kat nodded as though she understood. ‘That’s what Leon says.’

  ‘And Leon’s right. It’s not difficult, but I do believe you need a mind that enjoys technology to benefit from it properly, and clearly you’re not into it.’

  ‘You’re good at it then?’

  ‘It’s the thing I love most. And it’s going to give us answers for this trouble I seem to have found myself in.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because I’m good. Or bad, depending how you look at it. I’m not telling you any more, not yet, because of who you are, that’s not fair. So maybe this afternoon, if you don’t mind, I’ll borrow your laptop, buy one in your name so that it doesn’t show me at your address, and transfer the money into your bank. Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course. We’ve also got an appointment with my husband later.’

  ‘What? With Leon?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kat tried to keep her face straight. ‘At the kitchen table, around four o’clock.’

  ‘He doesn’t want me there.’ Mouse’s voice was flat.

  ‘Rubbish. That’s not it. I’m saying nothing more, and don’t worry, he’s absolutely fine about you staying with us.’

  Kat watched the lights change to amber and put her foot down. She had been constantly watching her mirror all the way home, but there had been nothing to suggest anyone had followed them from the burnt-out house.

  Tibby strolled to the car as they pulled onto the drive. Mouse bent down to stroke her and the cat rolled onto her back. ‘Floozy,’ Mouse remarked. ‘Get up, cat, and I might feed you some treats.’

  Kat turned to lock the car and looked startled. ‘What? Feed me some treats? You have chocolate?’

  ‘Wrong cat,’ Mouse said with a grin, and pointed to the ginger tom now walking away, tail erect.

  Kat shook her head. ‘Come on, we need some lunch, and then you can shop for your laptop.’

  Mouse tried to sleep but her mind was fully occupied. Kat had insisted she had an afternoon nap, but Kat’s insistence came with no instructions regarding clearing her mind of extraneous matter. She was excited by the top-of-the-range laptop, and worried by the burnt-out house, but most of all she was devastated by Millie and Jo’s deaths.

  Millie had arrived in Sheffield from Newcastle, and Jo from Southampton, so it followed that their funerals would be held in their home cities. It hurt Mouse to think that she would never see them again, never have one of their late-night chats where they put the world and Sheffield University to rights, through the alcoholic haze created by several bottles of wine.

  In the end, she gave up and went for a shower.

  It was while she was in the shower that her mind went into overdrive.

  She dressed quickly and ran downstairs, heading outside to find Kat. ‘Kat, I have a worry.’

  Kat looked up from the roses she was deadheading. ‘What sort of worry?’

  ‘My nan. If they found my address, what’s to stop them finding hers? They’ll know by now that I wasn’t in my house, so what do you think the odds are that they’ll go to my nan’s next?’

  ‘I think the odds are pretty high. Will she come here?’

  Mouse stared at her. ‘I didn’t mean that. I’m imposing on your good nature enough. I meant I have to get her away from there to somewhere where they can’t find her.’

  ‘Here.’ Kat was calm. ‘Go and ring her, tell her your worries, and tell her to pack enough for a couple of weeks away. We can protect her. Come on, let’s do it now.’

  She dropped the secateurs on top of the dead flowers in the trug and gave Mouse a gentle push.

  Ten minutes later, it was organised, despite Doris Lester’s protestations that she could handle the little runt. It was only when it was explained that he might not be a little runt, he might be two or three very large runts, that she gave in.

 
‘Only for two weeks, mind,’ she said. ‘Then I’m coming home.’

  Doris looked around the room, decorated in the palest of green, with a small-flowered wallpaper on the main wall and thought how beautiful it was. The handmade quilt on the bed echoed the delicate colours used on the walls, and she couldn’t help but compare it to the reds, yellows, purples and other assorted bright shades her granddaughter had used in her little house.

  The little house that might be too far gone to rise from any ashes.

  Doris wiped away a tear as she bent to put some clothes into the chest of drawers. Mouse seemed to have found a proper friend in Kat, and Doris was truly grateful. She sank into the armchair, soft and yielding and old, and picked up her book. She didn’t want to go downstairs and disturb the girls, she would stay up here, maybe have a little nap.

  Leon was home before four, and within a minute the three of them were sitting at the kitchen table, Mouse trying not to feel like a schoolgirl in front of the head.

  Leon had placed a carrier bag on the table, and both women looked at it. Kat felt sick, Mouse felt curious.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘This is what it’s all about.’ He reached into the bag and took out the gun.

  Mouse yelled, ‘No!’ and half stood, as if attempting to run.

  ‘Sit down, Beth,’ he said. ‘You have no option but to accept this development. This gun will be put into your bedside drawer. I won’t have you and Kat unprotected, and this is the best sort of protection I know. Have you ever fired a gun?’

  Mouse slowly sat and shook her head. ‘I’d never even seen one in real life before one put a bullet in me. What on earth do you expect me to do with that?’

  ‘Shoot somebody if necessary,’ Leon responded. ‘Now listen carefully, because your life, or Kat’s life, may depend on this.’

 

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