The Catch (45 page)

The same instinct had him relaxing his hold, making it clear she could break away if it was unwelcome, if he’d misjudged. But Cate’s response was to pull him closer, her face turning, guiding him towards her mouth, to the kiss that mattered more than all the rest.

Dan believed it was the most desperate and the most generous, the hungriest and most nourishing kiss he’d ever had. He kept his eyes open, and so did Cate, their gazes locked in silent communication:
Here and now, this is the right thing, the best thing that can happen
.

****

They broke apart, just to snatch a breath, and then they were back together, the kisses long and deep and thrilling. Once or twice a voice in Cate’s head tried to assert itself: This is a mistake. You might love Dan, but you’ll never be
in love
with him. You’ll break his heart.

But those were long-term considerations – and besides, weren’t all hearts broken in the end? More immediate was the pleasure of feeling his body against hers, the way his hands moved, his touch firm and strong; the expert kisses, the way they ignited her lust for sex with him, with
somebody
.

That was the brutal truth – the basic imperative for human contact – but for now Cate was able to brush it aside, even when they paused again and she saw how different it was for him: that hint of a cheeky grin, putting her in mind of a jubilant schoolboy who can barely credit that his wildest dream is coming true.

‘Robbie used to tease me about how much you fancied me,’ she said.

‘He teased me, too. Said I must need my eyes testing.’

‘Well, he’s got a point these days. I’m practically an old woman.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘I look dreadful.’

‘No. You look upset. But you’re beautiful. You always will be.’

She had to kiss him again, before he made her cry. Another of her brother’s criticisms came to mind: that she was too cautious, always having to stop and analyse everything. Sometimes it was better to take a leap into the unknown. As Robbie liked to say:
If something feels right, just do it
.

Cate pulled away from the kiss. Dan looked disappointed until he registered the wicked gleam in her eyes.

‘Bedroom. Now.’

Stemper caught only a brief glimpse of Caitlin’s visitor as the man entered the house. If he’d arrived a few seconds earlier he might have had a clearer look. As it was, he tormented himself with the thought that this could be a contender for the second man in the pub on Tuesday night. If only Traci’s description had been more detailed.

Equally, Stemper couldn’t rule out that the man was a police officer, visiting Caitlin in connection with yesterday’s murder. Loitering near the home of the victim’s former partner was asking for trouble, but of course the Blakes knew nothing about that. No doubt they’d want him to burst into the house and threaten the couple with their lives, which was well within his capabilities, of course. But was it the right thing to do?

Ultimately, he decided, it wasn’t. He explored the area on foot and found there was no access to the back of the building. Keeping a watch on the front was made difficult by the lack of hiding places and a shortage of on-street parking. He had to keep circling the block, sometimes in the car, sometimes on foot. This method held the risk that he’d miss something crucial, but it also meant he was less likely to be noticed.

Right now – to Stemper if not to the Blakes – that was more important.

****

Jed returned while Robbie was still trawling through paperwork. He ignored the key scratching in the lock, ignored a couple of thumps on the door, but finally had to respond to an angry shout.

‘Oy, Robbie. Let us in, ya wanker!’

Robbie didn’t want grief from the neighbours, so he opened up, claiming the lock was faulty. Jed almost spat with disdain. His pupils were dilated, and he was swaying on his feet like a lamp post in a hurricane.

‘Are you off your head?’

‘Day of rest, innit?’ Jed slurred. ‘I’m following the orders of the Lord Almighty.’

He stumbled to the bathroom, left the door wide open while he urinated for about half an hour at full volume, then disappeared into his bedroom.

‘Good riddance,’ Robbie muttered, and got back to work.

According to O’Brien’s journal, the sound files had been recorded at board meetings and small social gatherings when only Templeton’s most trusted colleagues were present. There was a lot of distortion from background noise – chairs shifting and creaking, the clink of crockery, coughs and sniffs and mumbled asides – but through all that emerged stunningly clear evidence that the Templeton group was rigorously fleecing a variety of government departments in the UK and half a dozen other major economies.

‘Fucking civil servants,’ Templeton was heard to say. ‘Doesn’t matter where you go, the top brass are just the same. Fat, privileged, self-important, pompous fools. Isn’t that right, Hank – I mean, you were one yourself once, weren’t you?’

Guffaws from around the table: even Hank, the butt of the joke, was chuckling politely.

‘Well, I have repented of
that
sin, I’m glad to report.’

‘Not before time,’ Templeton said. ‘Still, it’s those inflated egos that make it so easy to get one over on them. They equate job security with professional superiority. And at the end of the day it doesn’t matter if they piss away billions of public money. Nobody’s going to take a penny from their gold-plated pensions.’

Another occasion – a long and boozy lunch. There were a couple of women present, described by Hank as ‘overpriced tarts’, and Templeton couldn’t resist the temptation to boast. ‘Sometimes it feels too bloody easy. There’s no sport in it. They put a contract out to tender, and usually, if you’ve made the right connections beforehand, it’s a done deal. You think of a number, double it, then double it again, and that’s the going rate for the job. And it doesn’t matter if there’s a competitor, because they’re doing the same. In most places there’s only ever two or three companies in contention for the plum jobs – and let’s face it, we all know the score.’

After listening to several more comments along these lines, Robbie was drawn to ponder the significance of the video file. If Hank had secured such rock-solid leverage on Templeton, why would he take the trouble to film the Blakes?

The answer made him laugh out loud.
Hank, you crafty sod ...

His phone buzzed again: Bree. But Robbie had no intention of talking to her yet. He had much bigger fish to fry.

****

Bree had to endure lunch at Singing Hills, a golf club near Henfield, with Jim and a couple of his friends who hated her guts. Using her phone in such company was strictly forbidden. When she tried to sneak a look at it in the car park Jimmy had slapped her arm and said, ‘Leave that alone. You’re not a fucking teenager.’

They were back home around two and Jimmy went for a nap, making it plain that she wasn’t welcome to join him. Bree curled up in front of the TV and checked for messages. Nothing from Robbie. Nothing from Maureen.

Was that good or bad? Bree couldn’t decide.

With a glance at the door, she tried Robbie’s mobile. It tripped over to voicemail, so she texted –
How did it go?
– and waited a whole ten minutes before calling again. Same result.

She felt nervous now, wary of trying Maureen’s number. But the need to know overcame her fears.

The phone rang and rang. She was about to give up when Maureen answered.

‘All right, Bree.’

‘I’ve been dying to hear. How d’you get on?’

A pause. ‘Yeah, it was an eye-opener.’

‘Are you okay? Can you talk?’

‘Nah. Sorry, have to catch you later.’

Bree was staring in dismay at the phone when she heard thumping on the stairs. She just had time to grab a magazine before Jimmy came in, pulling on a jacket.

‘I thought you wanted a lie-down?’

‘Not tired no more.’ He picked up his keys.

‘Where you off to?’

‘Drink with Mike.’

Bree twisted round and sat up, praying that Robbie wouldn’t choose this moment to call back.

‘How long’s that been arranged?’

‘He just rang, said he needed a word. Soon as.’

He left the house without kissing her goodbye, which propelled Bree into a sulk. If Jimmy was going to treat her like this, it served him right that she had Robbie to make her feel warm and wanted. In fact, she was almost tempted to pop over to his flat right now ...

Then she remembered that Robbie had spent the morning screwing Maureen Heath, and her enthusiasm waned a little. And with Maureen sounding so ungrateful ...

Honestly, Bree didn’t know why she tried so hard to help people. She never got the thanks she deserved.

It’s time you put yourself first for a change
, she thought.

****

Dan and Cate raced upstairs, tearing off their clothes with the urgency of desire and perhaps a sneaking awareness that doubts might set in, should they pause to consider what they were doing.

I’ve known her since I was four
, Dan thought.
And I’ve wanted to sleep with her since I was about twelve ...

Only when they were in bed could they afford to slow down, because by then nothing existed except the sensation of each touch. They made love with passion and humour, sometimes solemn and assured, sometimes clumsy and giggling, finding a tempo that suited them equally, their communication enhanced by the deep knowledge of an almost lifelong friendship.

Then the finish, fast and noisy and uninhibited, as though for that moment they were determined to be strangers to one another: perfect strangers.

‘Well,’ said Cate, when they had lain in silence for a few minutes, recovering. ‘That was a bit weird.’

‘I thought it was amazing.’

‘Oh, me too.’ She moved up on to one elbow, placing her other hand on his stomach. ‘It’s just, I’ve always regarded you as ... well, the brother I wish I had, instead of the one I’ve got.’

Dan wasn’t sure what to say, and perhaps Cate sensed his reluctance to bring Robbie into the conversation, for she quickly changed the subject.

‘So when did you and Hayley split up?’

‘This morning.’ He gave her a brief summary of their conversation. ‘She followed me Thursday night, and on the strength of the kiss I gave you in the pub, she concluded that we were having an affair.’

‘But that was a little peck on the cheek!’

‘She chose to interpret it as something more.’

With a rueful sigh, Cate said, ‘And now it’s happened anyway.’

Dan felt his face burn. ‘I didn’t come here with this in mind—’

‘It wasn’t just a sympathy shag, then?’ Laughing, she lay back, staring at the ceiling. ‘Hey, it wouldn’t be so bad, really, if that’s what it was.’

Again, Dan had the uncomfortable sensation that they weren’t quite on the same page. ‘This is the best thing that’s happened to me for God knows how long,’ he said, and he ached when she passed up the opportunity to agree. Instead she looked pensive.

‘But isn’t it horrible how soon all the trouble comes roaring back? I can’t stop thinking about Martin, and Janine, and whether I’m to blame in some way.’

‘Why? It’s not your fault.’

‘Not directly, maybe.’ She told him that Martin had visited, most recently on Friday night, convinced they still had a future together. ‘When he was in the ambulance, he said my name.
Tell Cate
... That’s all he said. You can imagine what it’s done to Janine.’

‘And to you,’ Dan pointed out.

‘That’s not all. On Saturday afternoon I was shopping with Mum, in the North Laines. Right where it happened.’

‘What?’ Dan had to think about that for a few seconds. ‘Are you saying he was following you?’

‘That’s what DS Thomsett suspects.’ She acknowledged Dan’s surprise. ‘He’s involved in this inquiry as well. He was the one who linked the two cases.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He popped in this morning, unofficially. He’s worried because—’ She stopped abruptly, shaking her head. ‘Well, as he pointed out, it does seem a bit sinister. Two men dying in unusual circumstances, and both of them had a direct connection to me just before they were killed.’

Dan, listening in astonishment, said, ‘That’s crazy. There isn’t any link between them. Why on Earth would he think that?’

He was looking at her as the words spilled out, and he saw the way something changed in her eyes and the room went very quiet, and in that silence his blood turned to ice.

‘Why
wouldn’t
he think that, Dan? Nobody knows who killed either of them.’

‘No, that’s true. But it just seems ... unlikely, I suppose.’

Even Dan could hear how feeble he sounded. He shut his eyes. Thirty seconds ago he wouldn’t have wished himself anywhere but here, in bed with Cate. Now he wished he was anywhere else.

‘You do know something, though? About Hank O’Brien.’

He said nothing. Didn’t admit it. Didn’t deny it, either.

‘Tell me. Please.’

Dan sighed. Even if he’d wanted to, lying to her now was utterly beyond him.

He nodded slowly. ‘We killed him.’

All the doubts that Cate had been trying to suppress, and now in one terrible moment they were released and made real. Her brother had lied to her.
Dan
had lied to her.

‘But you were driving. That’s what you told me.’

‘I was.’

‘Then how did it happen? Was it deliberate?’

‘Not really. At least, I don’t think so.’ Dan rubbed his head: a touch of the Stan Laurel, but not remotely endearing in this situation. ‘We spotted him up ahead, walking in the road. As I went to pass him, Robbie grabbed the steering wheel.’