Taunting the Dead (31 page)

He watched her again, biting at the skin around her nails. She was still deep in thought, still staring at the television. Mark worried about her when she was like this. He couldn’t protect her. She locked him out. And he hated her for it at times.

Even though he knew he’d always be there to pick up the pieces, it still didn’t stop him responding angrily every now and then.

‘Allie?’ he said.

She didn’t hear him.

‘Allie!’

Allie jumped and looked over at him in a daze.

‘I’ve been talking to you, trying to get your attention for the past few minutes. Do you want to watch the news or grab an early night?’

‘You go on up. I still have things to work out.’

‘Great.’

Allie caught the sarcasm in the word. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Mark sulked. ‘I bet you made time to speak to
him
today though, didn’t you?’

Allie looked up. ‘If by
him
you mean Terry Ryder,’ she replied haughtily, ‘then yes, I have.’

Mark mumbled something.

‘I’m sorry, what was that?’

‘Nothing.’ Mark folded his arms and switched the television over to the news.

‘Christ, give it a rest,’ Allie chastised. ‘Sometimes the only peace and quiet I get is when I’m at home. I could do without you moaning about it.’

The television went off. Mark threw the remote down next to her. ‘I won’t bother you any more then. Seeing as you haven’t got time to turn me on, turn off the light when you’re done thinking.’

‘It’s not all about us,’ she snapped. What was it with him this week? All he seemed to think about lately was sex. She sighed. But that was hardly fair if she dared to think about it. He’d asked her if she’d seen Terry. She’d told him she’d been with him today. Was it obvious how much it was affecting her or was he feeling threatened again?

‘It’s not all about you, either,’ Mark answered back before standing up. ‘Here we go again, like a broken record. You work yourself too hard and no matter what you do, it’ll never make Karen better. Sometimes I wish you’d realise this and move on.’

‘Move on to what?’

‘I don’t know! You could have a cushy job somewhere in an office.’

Allie sighed and closed her eyes as he continued.

‘Sensible working hours – safe working hours. Posh clothes, long lunches!’

‘Do you really think that would suit me?’ she challenged.

‘Anything’s better than having to watch you torture yourself, push yourself to the limit to get a result.’

‘But my job is important to me!’

‘I’m important to you! Karen’s important to you!’

At the mention of Karen again, Allie flinched. She hadn’t found time to see her this week and already it was Tuesday.

‘When was the last time you saw her?’ asked Mark.

‘I visited on Friday.’

‘And when do you intend seeing her next? Have you even thought about her once during this investigation?’

Allie looked away guiltily. In actual fact, since Steph Ryder’s body had been found she’d hardly thought of Karen at all. She’d hardly thought of anyone except… She felt her skin reddening.

‘Of course I have!’ she lied, hating herself for it. ‘You know she’s never far from my thoughts.’

‘No, she shouldn’t be. She’ll be waiting to see you.’

Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I can’t do everything.’

‘It’s okay,’ Mark relented. ‘She was fine when I saw her.’

Allie felt relief and annoyance in equal measures. Relief that Mark had gone to see Karen so she’d had a visitor. Annoyance that he’d taken it upon himself to go to see Karen because he knew she wouldn’t find the time. She hardly knew which route to follow to reply. The annoyance won.

‘So now you think you can make up for me, is that it?’ she challenged. ‘And why didn’t you mention it?’

‘I did. You were obviously a little preoccupied to take it in,’ he told her sarcastically. ‘I called in for half an hour this evening.’

‘I – I…’

The fight had gone.

‘How was she?’

‘She was fine. I took a copy of
Hello!
magazine
and read some of it out to her.’

Allie’s eyes brimmed with tears. She couldn’t be mad at him when he was only looking out for them both.

‘I’m sorry,’ she spoke softly, reaching forward for his hand and pulling him near. ‘I don’t mean to let it take over. It just happens.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m here to pick up the pieces. But I can’t keep doing it.’ Mark ran a hand over her hair. ‘It tears me apart to see you like this.’

‘But this is me, Mark. Yes, I do this because of Karen, but also because I want to help other people too.’

‘Fine.’ Mark sighed. ‘You go ahead and help everyone. In the meantime, I’ll head up to bed. By myself.’

Allie heard him stomping around upstairs before finally settling down. She had intended to go through a few more statements, check a few more details but, unable to concentrate knowing she had upset him, she followed him up a few minutes later.

‘Brrr,’ she snuggled into his back. ‘It’s brass monkey weather out there.’

‘Don’t expect me to warm you up,’ he retorted.

Allie turned away from him and lay on her back. What was the point?

CHAPTER THIRTY

Wednesday morning. Even though her officers were right behind her as she drove up the driveway of The Gables, Allie’s heart was pounding at the thought of what they were about to do. They were searching a property on someone else’s say-so. Okay, most leads came through from someone who gave them information but she couldn’t help wondering if Carole Morrison was telling the truth. Had she been blinded by the charmer too?

Matt and Perry stood either side of her when she knocked on the door. Sam stood behind them.

Terry came to the door. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘We have a search warrant for the master bedroom,’ Allie told him, waiting for him to show his true colours.

‘But you’ve already searched it a few days ago!’ Terry’s face was ablaze with fury.

The officers moved in and past Allie. In the blink of an eye, the charmer was back.

‘I suppose you’d like a cup of tea and one of those biscuits that you love, Sergeant?’

Allie saw Sam turn back at the remark. She glared at Terry. Still his cool remained. He was taking the piss out of her, a smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes.
Let’s see how calm you are in twenty minutes.

‘Well?’ Terry was waiting for her to reply. ‘What’s it to be?’

Allie marched past him. Following the officers up the stairs and into the main bedroom, she snapped on plastic gloves before opening a wardrobe door. She pushed the clothes apart like a pair of curtains. Men’s clothes: trousers in every colour, shirts in every designer name. Shoes at the bottom, heels placed neatly on two rails.

As Terry stood behind her, she knocked on the wall. It didn’t sound hollow. She opened the next wardrobe, full to bursting with women’s clothes in no particular order. Grabbing a handful to make room, she slung them onto the bed.

That wall sounded solid, too, as she felt around it. She moved closer, examining the edges for any possible signs of a handle or a hinge. She pressed every inch of both walls to see if anything would push open. But there was nothing.

After a minute or two, she stood up. She paused. If she was wrong about this, it could be a hell of a blot on her career. But if she was right, who knows what they might find in there.

Behind her, Perry stood poised with a sledgehammer.

‘Look,’ Terry said, ‘if you’re hell bent on getting in there, why didn’t you ask?’

Allie glared at him.
What?

He took a remote control from his trouser pocket and pointed it at the wardrobe. A click was heard and, at waist height, a door opened as if on a timer switch.

‘How the hell?’ Allie frowned.

Perry put down the sledgehammer with a look of admiration. ‘Nice,’ he muttered.

Inside the compartment, Allie could see some kind of metal container. It was the size of a shoe box. She placed it onto the floor and looked for a lock but it didn’t have one. She lifted the lid. Inside, it was lined with purple velvet. The first thing she saw was a passport. Confused, as they already had Steph’s passport from the previous search, she took a quick flick through but it was out of date. Steph Ryder stared back at Allie from the photo, the only glaring difference the eight-year age gap.

There was a roll of notes that Allie estimated at five hundred pounds and a few rolls of purple velvet. She opened the first one and found a stone-encrusted locket attached to a gold necklace. Given Steph Ryder’s penchant for the best of everything, Allie could only assume they were diamonds.

‘We’ve been robbed quite a few times when we were abroad on one holiday or another,’ Terry said in way of explanation. ‘Steph wanted something secure fitted at home to ensure she didn’t lose anything precious to her. I commissioned a job from Burslem.’

She wondered. ‘Is there one in your wardrobe, too, that I couldn’t find?’

Terry nodded. Another click of the remote control and a second compartment was revealed. Allie thrust a hand inside but there was nothing inside it.

‘My wife had impeccable taste, Sergeant. Whereas I have nothing of value.’

Allie realised he was mocking her once more. She stooped over the box on the floor again. There were a further three rolls of velvet. She laid each of them out in a line and opened the first one. It contained a vast array of jewellery in the form of necklaces and bracelets. She set it down with the contents on view and unrolled another.

A knife with a wooden handle fell onto the floor. Its blade, approximately five inches in length, was covered in blood. Allie pulled an evidence bag out of her pocket, slipped the knife inside and held it up to gauge Ryder’s reaction. At first, his face was a look of confusion, but it quickly changed to calm.

‘I have no idea where that came from,’ he told her.

Allie held his stare.

‘I’m serious. Allie, if you think for one moment that I’d leave anything behind in my house to incriminate me in anything, then you hardly know me at all.’

Allie took a step closer to him. ‘That’s right,’ she said quietly. ‘I hardly know you at all. And it’s Detective Sergeant to you.’

Terry smiled back at her. ‘Believe me, Detective Sergeant,’ sarcasm dripped from the last two words, ‘I never forgot your rank. But maybe once or twice you might have.’

The words were like a smack across the face. Oh, she would get him for that.

‘I think you and I need to have a chat in private,’ she said.

‘Another one?’

Aware that her team were watching, Allie turned to Sam.

‘Get him out of here.’

Once everyone left, Allie sat down on the bed before her knees gave way. Her rapid heartbeat felt like it was banging out her fright. Panic began to overwhelm her and she breathed long and hard, in through the nose, out through the mouth. She had to keep her cool here. There were too many people who had heard Terry’s allegations and she knew before she could get into her car, word would be out all over the station if she let on how much she had fucked up. What the hell had got into her? And what the hell was her DI thinking in allowing her to get so close?

But she couldn’t blame Nick Carter for this one little bit. This was all her fault. She had been in the same house as a killer. She’d let Ryder get under her skin. What was she thinking?

She held up the knife inside the transparent bag. The weapon inside it couldn’t be connected to the murder of Steph Ryder because she had been attacked with a hammer. So whose blood was this?

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

At the police station, Terry was placed in an interview suite on the ground floor. As he hadn’t been arrested, he said there was no need for his solicitor to be present, unnerving Allie immediately. What wasn’t he telling them that made him so cocksure of himself?

Nick wanted her and Sam to conduct the interview.

‘Make him feel that he’s only helping us with enquiries at the moment,’ Nick said as they went downstairs. ‘If he gets too much, I’ll come in to you.’

Despite Allie’s protests, he sounded her out. ‘I’ll watch from the next room. It’ll all be monitored. I want to see his reaction.’

‘I was hoping no one else would be joining us, Sergeant,’ Terry remarked coolly as they went into the room.

Although his words were loaded with meaning, Allie ignored his jibe. She pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him. Sam sat by her side.

‘Tell me about the knife, Mr Ryder,’ she said.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Detective Sergeant.’

‘So, am I to assume you’ve never seen it before?’

‘Yes, assume away.’

‘Considering your wife has recently been murdered, don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that it was found in a secret compartment in your bedroom?’

‘I don’t see how that can be a coincidence at all, especially since my wife didn’t die from stab wounds. Like I said, I’ve never seen this before.’

‘Would Mrs Ryder ever have had cause to keep a knife covered in blood for anyone?’

‘You’re asking the wrong person. I’m not my wife’s keeper.’

‘Whose blood do you think is on the knife?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘She didn’t tell you about it?’

‘No.’

‘So you had no idea that it was there?’

Terry shook his head. ‘She could have used it herself for all I know.’

‘You think so?’

‘Steph was a volatile woman. It was common knowledge that she liked a drink.’ Terry smiled affectionately as if remembering something about Steph. ‘She was always a handful. I’ve had to clear up lots of odd things for her in the past.’

‘
Odd
things?’

‘Yes. The odd ruined suit or dress she’s spilt drink over. The odd pub mirror she’s smashed in the ladies’. The odd woman she’s ripped a dress off or a bracelet that she’s broken in a tiff.’

‘You paid people to keep quiet about your wife’s crimes?’ Allie was astounded.

‘I’d hardly call them crimes.’ Terry stared at her. ‘Just a few misunderstandings. I helped keep people sweet by paying for the damage Steph caused.’