Fatal Act (26 page)

He didn’t answer.

‘Ian, what’s wrong? How’s Bev? How did she take the news?’

He didn’t answer straight away. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said at last.

The pause told her more than his halting words.

‘I
an, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he repeated miserably. ‘Oh, she was pleased about the promotion, of course, but she’s not keen on moving.’

‘Do you know where you’re going?’

‘York.’

‘York? How exciting!’

Doing her best to sound pleased, she was glad he couldn’t see her dismayed expression. York was a long way off. She had secretly been hoping he would move closer to London.

‘I
wish Bev thought so,’ he was saying. ‘She’s pissed off at having to leave her job, and the house. She loves our house. She’s worked really hard to get everything right.’

‘But you both knew a move was on the cards. It can hardly have come as a surprise to her, after all your hard work.’

‘She doesn’t see it like that.’

The sudden rancour in his tone warned her to choose her words with more care.

‘I’m sure she’ll be fine once she gets used to the idea.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

It was a difficult conversation and for once Geraldine was relieved when he said he had to go. What with Nick and Ian, she wondered if anyone she knew was happily married. She fancied Nick, and was flattered by his attention, but she wasn’t sure if she actually liked him. She certainly didn’t trust him the way she trusted Ian. Not for the first time, she decided she was better off on her own. Relationships were too complicated.

M
EGAN
LET
OUT
AN
involuntary whimper. Clapping one hand over her mouth she wriggled right down into the bed and pulled the covers over her head. She lay very still, alert to the slightest sound. With luck the intruder wouldn’t realise there was anyone there, although if he looked in the room it would be pretty obvious someone was concealed under the duvet. It was stifling in the bed, yet she was shivering. She strained to listen through the bed covers. Someone was clattering about in the kitchen. Silence. All at once her heart began pounding as she heard the bedroom door creak open. Too late she realised she should have grabbed a weapon of some kind before hiding herself in the bed. As it was, she had nothing with which to try and defend herself against her attacker. Her worst fear was that he might slash her face. She wasn’t as pretty as most of the other girls in her year yet Dirk still fancied her, and he wasn’t the only one. If her face was disfigured, her career might be over before it had even begun.

S
he kept her eyes tightly closed, hardly daring to breathe as something thumped down hard on the bed.

‘Megan! Are you asleep?’

She let out a sob of relief. Dirk pulled back the covers and leered down at her. His breath stank of beer and stale cigarette smoke. At least he had probably been telling her the truth about going to the pub.

‘Lauren’s here,’ he announced very loudly.

‘You’re not going to throw up are you?’ She scrambled over to the other side of the bed. ‘Get into the bathroom, you stink.’

‘Angela’s here.’

‘You said Lauren just now.’

‘I know. That’s what I’m telling you. Lauren’s here.’

‘Who’s Lauren?’

‘Listen.’ He spoke very slowly, and his speech was slurred. ‘I brought Lauren back here because she had nowhere to go. Missed her train, you see.’

‘But who is she?’

‘She’s a girl. She’s Lauren.’

Without any further explanation he fell back on the bed, laughing uncontrollably.

M
egan didn’t mind who was with him. He could have brought a whole harem of girls back to the flat for all she cared, she was so pleased to see him. Without warning she burst into tears.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ he grumbled, sitting up and scowling. ‘She only came back with me because she missed her last train. What was I supposed to do? Leave her on her own in the middle of London? I was being chivalrous.’ He stumbled over the word. ‘You should be proud of me. I’m a gentleman.’

‘I am proud of you.’

She flung her arms round his neck.

‘So why are you crying?’

‘I’m just happy to see you.’

‘Well, make us a cup of tea then. It’s freezing out there.’ He leaned forward suddenly. ‘Oh God, I’m going to hurl.’

M
egan helped him to the bathroom and sat on the side of the bath while he threw up. She stared at her face in the mirror. Pasty-faced, with no make-up, her hair a mess from hiding under the bed covers, she hoped Dirk was too pissed to notice how awful she looked. At last he finished and followed her submissively back to the bedroom.

‘I’ll go and make the tea then.’

He grunted in reply. While the kettle was boiling, she went back to the bathroom and cleaned up. As she passed the living room she heard laughter.

R
ecovered from his bout of vomiting, Dirk was sitting on the sofa beside a girl who was laughing at something he was saying. Neither of them noticed Megan, standing in the doorway, watching them. She stared at the stranger. Lauren was very thin. Long skinny legs stuck out beneath her short skirt, and she waved her hands in the air when she spoke, displaying sparkly pink nails. Her blonde hair was dark at the roots, her huge blue eyes emphasised by thick black make-up. She looked like a cheap little tart, and worryingly young. Megan fought against her resentment. She gave Dirk somewhere to live, spent hours going through his lines with him, looked after him when he was sick and cleaned up after him, shopped and cooked for him, and he repaid her devotion by openly flirting with some skinny little bitch who was gagging to shag him.

‘H
ere you are,’ she said forcing herself to sound cheerful as she handed them their tea.

Lauren took a sip and screwed her face up in disgust. ‘It’s got sugar in it.’

Dirk gulped and grimaced. ‘This one’s yours. It’s disgusting.’ He and Lauren swapped mugs, laughing. ‘Trust Megan to get it wrong,’ he added.

Lauren looked up and met Megan’s eye, seemingly noticing her for the first time.

‘Thank you for the tea,’ she said politely, as though Megan was Dirk’s mother.

Megan wondered if she was even sixteen. One of these days, Dirk was going to get himself into a lot of trouble, and serve him right.

‘I
’m going to bed,’ she announced. Turning to Dirk, she asked him if he was going to bring his tea with him. ‘I’ll find a sleeping bag for Lauren if she wants to stay on the sofa tonight.’

Lauren reached out a small hand and placed it on Dirk’s arm. He didn’t move.

‘Good night,’ Lauren said firmly, looking straight at Megan.

Without another word, Megan turned on her heel and left the room. Lying in bed, alone, she promised herself she would throw him out in the morning. He could find some other mug to put up with his selfish carrying on. But by the time he joined her in bed later, she had her jealousy fiercely back under control. However many girls he flirted with, Dirk invariably came back to her. She was going to make sure he always did.

‘W
E
NEED
TO
LOOK
at Piers’ previous lovers – maybe his ex-wives,’ Geraldine announced to the borough intelligence unit the next morning.

She sounded so enthusiastic that several officers looked up from their screens in surprise. Reg and Sam were both in the room and the detective chief inspector stopped what he was doing.

‘What’s your thinking, Geraldine?’ he asked.

She explained the theory Nick had put forward. Sam raised her eyebrows. She looked narked.

‘Nick suggested it? What’s it got to do with him? He’s not even on the case.’

‘We were discussing it last night,’ Geraldine answered shortly.

T
here was no reason why she shouldn’t talk about the investigation with another officer, in general terms. He had been helpful, and his idea might even lead them to solve a case that had been going nowhere. The fact that Sam didn’t like him was of no consequence. Reg was more positive.

‘That makes sense. Come on, I’m meeting Jayne in my office in five minutes, we can see what she has to say about it.’

‘This just gets better and better,’ Sam muttered.

Geraldine didn’t answer. Like Sam, she found the psychological profiler irritating, but any opinion could prove useful when they were floundering.

J
ayne listened intently to Geraldine’s theory. With her head tilted to one side, her long curly hair reached down to her waist. Dressed in her usual ankle length skirt and floaty scarf, the profiler reminded Geraldine of an art teacher she had at school. She struggled to understand how Reg could take her seriously.

‘What do you think?’ the detective chief inspector asked.

‘It’s possible,’ Jayne agreed.

‘Anything’s possible,’ Sam mumbled.

G
eraldine glared at the sergeant, irritated that her colleague felt able to express the thought Geraldine had kept to herself. As an inspector, she felt obliged to conduct herself with some dignity and restraint. But if Sam ever intended to seek promotion, she needed to be more careful. Geraldine had already reprimanded her about her offhand attitude. Jayne scowled, clearly understanding that Sam was sniping at her. Geraldine suspected Sam was annoyed that Nick’s idea was being taken seriously. Reg agreed they should investigate Piers’ ex-wives, while Sam drew up a list of women with whom he had been involved.

‘It’s going to be a long list,’ she pointed out, but she sounded more cheerful now she had something to do.

‘W
hat is it about Nick?’ Geraldine asked Sam as they walked down the corridor, away from Reg’s office.

‘What about him?’

‘What’s between the two of you?’

‘Nothing at all.’

‘Why the constant bitching about him then?’

‘You know why I don’t like him.’

Geraldine nodded. Sam had told her about a stupid sexist remark Nick had once made about an alleged rape victim. But anyone could blunder. Now that she knew him better, Geraldine genuinely believed he had been thoughtless rather than nasty. The comment might have been unforgivable at the time, but Sam couldn’t hold it against him forever.

S
am followed Geraldine into her office, where Nick was seated at his desk fiddling with a pen. He looked up and smiled.

‘Fancy a drink after work, ladies?’

‘No thank you. As if we’d want to,’ Sam added to Geraldine, lowering her voice, yet making sure Nick could still hear her.

‘I think you’ll find Geraldine already has,’ he retorted. ‘In fact, it was more than a drink. How about supper again tonight, Geraldine? My treat.’

Sam stalked off without a word. Geraldine watched her go but didn’t follow or call after her. She had no time for the sergeant’s immature antics.

S
am caught up with Geraldine in the canteen at lunch time.

‘Mind if I sit here, or is this seat taken?’

Geraldine gave a wary smile and gestured to her colleague to join her.

‘You went out with him?’ Sam hissed, leaning over the table so Geraldine could catch her whispered question.

‘It was just a drink.’

‘That’s not what he said.’

‘We were in a pub, we were hungry, and we ordered some crap bar food, as if it’s any of your business. What the hell’s got into you?’

‘Be careful, Geraldine.’

‘What?’

Sam hesitated for a second. ‘You know he’s married.’

‘He and his wife have separated. And we didn’t go on a date. We went for a drink and discussed the case.’

‘S
eparated? Is that what he told you? Listen, Geraldine, he’s a lowlife. He’s slept his way round half the station – it’s a standing joke. He’s always sniffing round the new recruits. He’s married and he’s a –’

‘That’s enough,’ Geraldine interrupted gently. ‘You know you’re raising your voice? I don’t want to hear you gossiping about your superiors, or about any of your fellow officers if it comes to that. If you get a name for being indiscreet it could affect your chances of promotion. Seriously.’

Telling herself she was concerned for Sam’s reputation, Geraldine tried not to feel disappointed at what she had heard. After all, Nick’s affairs had nothing to do with her. She wasn’t interested in him romantically. He was simply a colleague who had given her a helpful insight into the investigation, that was all.

S
am suspected that wasn’t the whole picture, and was still talking.

‘He leads his wife a dog’s life by all accounts.’

‘Whose accounts?’

‘Everyone says it. He’s always chasing after someone or other, and now it’s your turn. I don’t get what women see in him. I mean, he’s OK, but he’s no pin up, is he?’

‘I said that’s enough.’

‘This isn’t just gossip, Geraldine. Ask any of the female officers. And as for telling you he’s separated from his wife, that’s a barefaced lie. I’m not telling you all this to be mean about him, Geraldine. You went out with him –’

‘For a drink after work –’

‘And you ought to know what he’s like. What sort of a friend would I be if I sat back and watched you make a fool of yourself, and maybe get hurt into the bargain, without trying to warn you what he’s like? He’s bad news.’

S
am looked so earnest, Geraldine couldn’t resent her interference. Instead, she thanked Sam for the caution and promised to keep Nick at arm’s length.

‘It’s not as if I fancy him,’ she lied. ‘You’ve got it all wrong if that’s what you think.’

She wasn’t exactly lying, because she wasn’t sure herself how she felt about Nick. But in any case, her feelings were not Sam’s business, however well intentioned the sergeant’s concern might be.

G
ERALDINE
WASN
’
T
SURE
why she had been asked to interview a young woman who had come to the station to report an assault, but she responded to the summons promptly. It would be a welcome distraction from the monotony of filling in time, waiting for something to advance the investigation into the deaths of Anna and Bethany. The girl didn’t stop crying when Geraldine entered the room. Geraldine watched her narrow shoulders shuddering as she sobbed. The female constable introduced her as Cheryl. Geraldine waited another moment and then called the girl’s name. Cheryl looked up, dabbing at her eyes with a damp tissue. Her pale complexion formed a stark contrast to her jet black hair which Geraldine guessed had been dyed, because the girl’s large eyes were blue.