Frozen Grave (33 page)

‘Of course. Sure. Well, that’s it then.’ He grinned at her back as he followed her into the kitchen, and found Carter still looking through Lisa Tompkins’s kitchen
drawers.

‘Found anything?’

‘Actually, yes, I have. Follow me.’

He walked back into the lounge and stood in front of a landscape painting of moorland and windswept trees.

Willis took a closer look.

‘Recognize the signature?’ Carter asked them.

Tucker stepped in beside Willis.

‘I do. That’s one by Megan Penarth. The artist I went to talk to. From one woman on the list to another.’

‘We need to talk to all the women now,’ said Carter.

‘I’ll ring Robbo to see how far they’ve got with compiling a route for us.’ Willis made the call then came off the phone. ‘Pam’s emailing it to me now. We
head north-west. Our first stop is Reading.’

Ellerman was on his way home. He left his date in bed; she was someone he’d met in a bar the night before. He’d already thrown up in the middle of the night. He
wasn’t even sure whether they’d had sex or not – all he knew was that it probably wasn’t protected. Now, he couldn’t wait to go – he dressed and got into his car
before the sun was up. He had delayed going home since the letter arrived but now was the time to deal with it all. He arrived at eleven. Dee’s green Mini Cooper wasn’t in the driveway;
he was relieved. It would give him time to settle in before she got back. He needed a shower and a shave. He was still sweating from the hangover. Sitting in the car, he splashed himself with
aftershave and washed down an Alka-Seltzer with some bottled water.

After he got out of the car he stood looking at the garden and the clearing that had been going on and he remembered he hadn’t paid Mike.
He can wait.
He slammed his door shut and
went round to the boot to get his bag out.

Once inside the house, he put his bag down in the hallway and stood listening to the silence in the house. It killed him. It wasn’t peace, it was oppression. It was not a home, it was a
fancy obelisk erected to his failings. A white elephant. He picked up his bag and took it into the utility room and put on the first wash. He zipped the bag back up and went into the kitchen. He
sat at the kitchen table and opened his laptop, logged on to the home network. He heard the key in the lock.

‘Dee?’

‘Yes.’

He heard her moving around the hallway. She didn’t immediately come in. He closed his laptop.

‘Where have you been?’ He kept his voice light and breezy and completely opposite to the way he felt.

She stood in the doorway.

‘Class.’

‘Oh, yes? Which one?’

‘Spanish.’ She held his gaze; he returned it and then smiled. He surreptitiously wiped the bead of sweat that had formed at his temple.

‘How are things?’

‘Okay.’

She turned and went out into the lounge. He was relieved that she hadn’t mentioned the letter but at the same time he was worried. There was no way he was going to bring it up. If she
wanted to bury it under the floorboards, or sweep it under the carpet, then that suited him just fine.

Ellerman moved into his office to work. There were some calls to make regarding the yacht order. By lunchtime he was ready for a break. He’d been feeling better all the time as he forced
himself to settle back into the house, to own it. He heard Dee periodically but she was otherwise quiet. He realized, the last time he came home, that she was using Craig’s room as an office.
Her whole life seemed to be wrapped up in Craig’s. He looked at the history on the printer. She’d printed out articles about Spanish building companies and about property for sale.

Ellerman walked up the stairs. He found her where he knew he would – in Craig’s room.

‘What are you up to?’ he asked.

She hadn’t glanced his way when he entered the room but her fingers froze on the keyboard. She sat at Craig’s desk, overlooking the front garden.

‘Anything interesting?’

‘My car-maintenance course.’

‘Is it time for lunch?’

‘I don’t want anything. You go ahead.’

‘What is there to eat?’

‘Not a lot.’

‘You know I expect a bit more than that. You could at least have some bread in the house.’

‘I wasn’t expecting you home.’

‘No . . . well, change of plan.’

‘The letter, you mean. The women, the lies, the money?’ She kept looking down at the garden.

He stood in the doorway. ‘I explained that to you.’

‘No you didn’t. You told me your version of the truth. That’s not the same thing.’

‘It has nothing to do with you, Dee. I will handle it like I always do. Don’t worry, it will all go away soon; it’s all a pack of lies.’ She turned and looked at him with
loathing. ‘Okay, I admit to having the odd affair but we don’t have a sex life any more. We hardly even rub shoulders, let alone anything else! I have needs. I am a man, after
all.’ She held him with her gaze and he felt her contempt. ‘Bottom line, Dee – everything I do is for you, for
us . . .
Every decision I take, it’s for the best for
us
. I want you to be happy again. I am very close to clinching this yacht deal with the Middle Eastern men. They’ve jerked me around for long enough but they want these boats. Once
that happens, I’ll pay off these whingeing women and you and I will relocate. Put everything behind us – start again.’

Downstairs, the house phone started ringing. Dee walked past him into the bedroom to answer it.

‘It’s the bank.’

Ellerman was seething as he took the phone from her. He listened to the bank manager telling him how much trouble he was in, as if he didn’t know. Then he spent twenty minutes pointing out
the history that he had with the bank. Pointing out the good times that had once been very good indeed. Where was the loyalty? He concluded by saying that the deal for five yachts was almost in the
bag but the manager on the other end of the phone wasn’t interested in promises. By the time Ellerman came off the phone, his face was blanched and he didn’t want to talk to Dee. He
went into his office, closed the door, and pulled out the list of women from his laptop bag where he kept it. He sat in his chair and went through them. The bank were about to call in the loans. If
they did that then Mermaid Yachts would go bankrupt and be forced to close. All he needed was to hang on for the deal with the Arabs. If they smelt an opportunity to pick up the yachts at cost
price they would take it. He had to keep up the appearance that he was a buoyant moneymaking company director.

He felt his stomach start churning again. He rested his head back on the chair and took some deep breaths. The bile was rising in his mouth. He was forced to keep swallowing, breathing deeply to
try to stave off the nausea.

He called out to Dee in the other room: ‘You know if I go down – you do too. We are a fine fucking pair, we two. I may have conned women out of money, Dee, but you were always the
reason in my mind. If I am to blame so are you. You have persecuted me ever since Craig died in the accident. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you, to make amends. All I’ve
ever wanted was to make you happy. This house, this precious shrine to Craig, all goes if I go under and then reality hits. You have to face things, just like me. You can’t keep blaming me,
Dee. Are you listening?’ He heard nothing but silence but he knew she’d heard.

Paula was blow-drying a client’s hair when she heard the chime of the salon door opening. She knew instantly that the two men and a woman were police officers. She also
knew they had come to see her even before Jill the receptionist glanced across at her and pointed. The man at the front, the good-looking, black-haired, stocky one, smiled at her and gave her a nod
that said: ‘We need a word.’

‘Ella, can you finish off for me, please?’ Paula called the young stylist over whilst she excused herself and walked up to the reception desk. She gave her professional smile.

‘Can I help?’

‘Paula Seymour?’

‘Yes.’

Carter showed his badge. ‘Hello, I’m Detective Inspector Dan Carter, and this is Detective Sergeant Scott Tucker and Detective Constable Ebony Willis. We just need a few minutes of
your time. Is there somewhere we can talk?’

‘Yes. I suppose the café next door is the best place.’ She turned to the young stylist. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes, Ella. Okay?’

Paula picked up her coat from behind reception and led the way out and into the coffee house.

Willis went to buy the coffees whilst the others found a private spot to talk. Carter distributed them when she brought them over and then he waited for her to sit down before he took out the
letter. Willis took out her notebook. Tucker observed.

‘Thanks for sparing us some time, Paula,’ Carter said. Willis was thinking that Paula Seymour was definitely expecting them. She hadn’t been the least surprised.

‘What’s it about?’

‘Have you seen this letter before?’ She nodded. ‘Did you write it?’

‘No.’

‘But you got one?’

‘Yes. A few days ago.’

Carter stirred his coffee. ‘Were you expecting us to visit you, Paula? You didn’t seem surprised when you saw us.’

Willis was watching her. To gauge her mannerisms – to form a benchmark of normality. She had a habit of curling in her lips like a child when she was nervous. She looked upwards as she
considered her answer. ‘I thought you might. One of the other women on the list told me you’d been in touch with her.’

‘You’ve talked to some of these women?’ Carter spread the three pages of the letter out on the café table. Willis took notes. Robbo and Hector had given them a list of
questions that they should work into the talk. Some facts that had to be established.

‘I’ve talked to a few. We met up.’ All three detectives looked at her.

‘Oh, really? Must have been quite a get-together. Who did you meet?’

‘Megan, Lisa and Emily.’

Carter looked at the list.

‘Is that Megan Penarth?’ She nodded. ‘And Lisa Tompkins, Emily Porter?’

‘Yes.’

‘When was that?’

‘Last Wednesday.’

‘Where did you meet them?’

‘Here in Reading. Here in this coffee shop. We sat over there . . .’ She gestured to a window table.

‘Just the four of you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Whose idea was the meeting?’

‘Megan called it. It was to decide what we should do about JJ.’

‘And, if you don’t mind me asking, what did you all decide?’

‘We didn’t really. It ended up more of a chance for some people to just say how angry they were. People just wanted to let off steam.’

‘That must have been awkward,’ said Tucker. Carter smiled encouragement at Paula.

‘Yeah, it was. A bit.’

‘It says you’ve been in a relationship with JJ Ellerman for eighteen months. Is that correct?’ Carter asked, looking at the letter.

‘Yes. It must be about that.’

‘Can I just ask you . . . when you received this letter, was it a shock, Paula?’ he continued.

‘Yeah, I guess it was. I mean, I had kept an open mind about things. But we were supposed to be starting a hairdressing salon in Spain.’

‘Did he promise you that?’ asked Tucker.

‘Yes.’

‘And did you give him money?’

‘Yes. We were saving together.’

‘How much money?’

‘Altogether, I’m not sure . . .’ Paula looked nervous. ‘I can’t remember the details.’

‘Tuesday the seventh of January. Can you remember what happened that evening?’

‘JJ came. The girls went to stay with my mum.’

‘Tuesday? Is that a night he usually spends with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘What was he like when he appeared? And what time was that?’

‘He turned up in the middle of the evening, about nine. No – it was quite late really, maybe half past.’

‘How did he seem?’

‘He was okay. He seemed harassed. He’d got cash-flow problems.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘As usual.’

‘And, if you could think back to a few days before that, Sunday the fifth? Where were you that day?’

‘I was here. I can remember. Doing things with the kids. We had a party to go to in the afternoon.’

‘Was there ever a time with Ellerman that you felt threatened at all?’

‘No.’

‘Would you be willing to press charges against JJ Ellerman for defrauding you out of money?’

‘No. I don’t want to do that.’

‘Why, can I ask?’

She shook her head. She looked cornered, flustered.

‘I don’t really want to. I know he’s been a bastard but he’s also been good to me and the kids.’

‘Have you seen JJ Ellerman since you got this letter?’

Paula looked down at her coffee. She nodded. ‘Just briefly.’

‘Have you talked to him on the phone?’ asked Carter.

‘We haven’t talked a lot. I think he’s hoping everything will calm down.’

‘Do you think it will?’

She shook her head. ‘Who knows?’

‘Am I right in thinking that you would be willing to continue this relationship with Ellerman?’ asked Carter. ‘I realize you’ve invested a lot in it.’

‘No. I can’t see it – can you?’

She looked at them in turn and was obviously panicking. The more she shook her head at the thought of it, the more it became obvious that she had no intention of giving Ellerman up.

Carter sat, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, as he smiled at Paula. Tucker sat right back; Willis wrote her notes.

‘I want to ask you to do something for me, Paula.’ Carter decided they’d waited long enough. ‘I want you to resist contacting Ellerman. Don’t answer his calls, or
if you do, don’t say anything about meeting us or the other women. Get off the phone and call us if you are at all worried about anything.’ Carter handed her his card.

‘What’s the matter?’

Carter picked up the letter and turned to show her three names.

‘Olivia Grantham, Gillian Forth and now Lisa Tompkins, all women from this list and now all of them now dead.’

Paula knocked her coffee cup as she brought her hand to her mouth in shock at the news.