Urge to Kill (1) (31 page)

‘So we—’ Matt stopped, still trying to get his head around Fluff and Jenny.

Fluff turned to look at him.

‘Our affair?’ Matt asked.

‘Was delicious,’ Fluff replied.

‘Then how…why?’

‘It just happened.’

‘Oh God. Was it me…did I…?’ Matt stuttered.

Fluff laughed. ‘Turn us both into lesbians? Don’t be silly. It was nothing to do with you. Big head.’

‘Well I hope not, or Eppie is not going to be happy.’

CHAPTER 45

C
live was excited as the lift rose upwards. He was squashed behind two young women giggling about some party and the boys they had fancied. He didn’t like the way one of them kept glancing in his direction, so he pretended not to notice. There was no way he was going to encourage them. He couldn’t risk another Anne.

It was a relief when the lift emptied. He looked towards Ben’s desk, but he, as usual, hadn’t arrived yet. Feeling unsettled, Clive tried to get down to work while looking up at every opening of the lift doors. The last time they had been in the office together, it had been as mere colleagues. Now that they were lovers, would everyone immediately be aware of their relationship?

He had just started to concentrate on his work, when a call came through saying one of his clients, whom he had been due to see tomorrow, wanted to change the meeting to today. Having nothing specific in his diary, there was little Clive could do but accept.

Mrs Angelo, of Angelo’s Foods was one of those awkward clients who hired an expert and then refused to let them do their job. By the end of the morning, Clive would have gladly added her to his victim list, if it weren’t for her inbuilt protection in the form of mounds of flesh, which wobbled like a jelly every time she emphasised a point.

Maybe she enjoyed sampling the goods, and he doubted that even his strong hands could force their way through such a formidable barrier. Clive was already in a state of contained excitement, trying to appear normal, while every inch of him was flooded with adrenalin, preparing for what he intended to do tomorrow. He found himself switching off from her rampant voice and, instead, went over his plans for the umpteenth time.

He had determined yesterday evening that Mika would arrive around five-forty-five and drive her black and white mini into the staff car park. This meant he would have to be in position at least fifteen minutes earlier to be sure he didn’t miss her. Mika would be very glad, he was sure, to have a police escort from the end of the driveway and into the spa. Except that she would never reach the spa.

Posing as Detective Inspector Browning, Clive had decided to put himself on an equal footing to DI Turrell; he would direct her to the darkest corner of the staff car park. Then it would be only a matter of seconds before she was ready to become his third statement. The palms of his hands were burning at the thought and, although he longed to use them around Mrs Angelo’s fat neck, he reasoned that it would be such a waste to use his talents on her.

A shudder as Mrs Angelo banged on the table to emphasise a point brought him back to the present, and he had to give her his full attention. The sooner he was out of here the better, so he pretended agreement and resolved to work out the programme in his own way. Then, when it was completed and presented to her, Clive would compliment her on her foresight and excellent planning abilities. He had worked with clients like her before, and it was by far the best way to deal with the situation.

Towards the end of the meeting, his phone rang. Grateful for the interruption and pleading a possible emergency, he rose and stepped out of the room into the open-plan office. The sound of Ben’s voice brought the familiar quickness to his breath.

‘So what have you been up to, then?’

Clive searched his mind, examining the past twenty-four hours since Ben and he became as one, to see if he had given himself away, but could come up with nothing, except his desire to tell Ben everything, to have him join in the excitement. Noticing his hesitation, Ben laughed.

‘Am I going to be seeing you on Crime Watch?’

Clive finally stammered a reply. ‘Why would you say that?’

‘Well, a rather dishy detective came here looking for you. Seems you were present at the scene of a murder last Saturday. Now, if he had been looking for me, I would have given myself up straight away. He could have taken me away, handcuffs and all,’ Ben teased.

Clive reasoned with himself that this must have been a routine visit, so he joined in the joking. ‘Oh yes, while having dinner with my mother, I might have committed the odd murder or two,’ he laughed.

‘Oh great. Now you tell me,’ Ben kidded.

‘I needed to impress you first.’

‘Oh you have. You certainly have,’ Ben sighed in his sexiest voice.

Clive found it embarrassing that his body was reacting to the sound of Ben’s voice and the memories of yesterday it was evoking. One or two of the workers had already looked up at the word murder. He sought to cut it short before he became carried away.

‘Look, I’ll have to get back to my client.’

‘OK. I get it. The tasty detective is coming back later. I’m definitely going to be here. See you then. Love you.’ The last few words were almost whispered and Clive was frustrated that he couldn’t return them but, instead, had to be content with, ‘Yes, me too.’ Besides, a little part of him was jealous of Ben finding DI Turrell dishy. True, he was only kidding, but it wasn’t what Clive wanted to hear. ‘See you then.’

He could tell Ben was laughing at him trying to sound business like and formal but forgave him when he suggested meeting for lunch near the office.

After escaping from the Angelo woman, Clive drove towards the office, and the first qualms began to cross his mind. Was the police visit routine? They would certainly want to interview anyone who was at the spa, like before. Memories of that last time when he had let that silly woman constable get the better of him, made him wary.

Maybe he should avoid going back to work for a while. Alternatively, should he go back now, have lunch with Ben, and then get called out again? That way, it wouldn’t look as if he was avoiding the inspector. That seemed the best plan.

The route back to the office took him past the inspector’s flat and he parked opposite the block, pretending to look through his briefcase but watching for any signs of life. There was none, and he was tempted to go and ring the flat’s buzzer before ruling this out as an unnecessary risk. He began to wish he had not sent the little soldier to the inspector, since, by now, the inspector would have his wife hidden away, safely out of danger and his clutches.

Clive visualised how wonderful it would be to have the inspector’s wife, Eppie, as his next centrepiece. The more he thought about it the more he wanted it. It was perfect. The DI would have to admit Clive’s superiority over him and spend the rest of his lonely life going over all the mistakes that led to his wife’s death.

But how would Clive find her? Police had safe houses or used hotels to hide people away. Where would they put Turrell’s wife? Would the one little soldier warrant a posh hotel? Unlikely. She would be staying with friends or family out of town. Unless she was being put up by one of his colleagues? If this were so, then it would probably be a female or one with a wife.

He thought of the annoying young DC and realised she would fit the bill exactly. He had followed his instinct, as fate guided him, so he knew where she lived. It would be worth keeping an eye on her flat.

Ben had chosen a trendy place for lunch. The wooden floors, bright red metal seats, and the occasional print offered just the right obeisance to the young professional type and allowed, Clive was sure, an extra charge on the basic lunchtime fare of salads and sandwiches.

It was a popular place and, at first, he couldn’t spot Ben amongst the chattering throng. Then, from a high stool set at a table around a pillar, Ben waved. Just the sight of his cheerful smile caused a warm flush to colour Clive’s face, so that walking towards him, he felt like a beacon the other diners couldn’t fail to notice.

Clive was both embarrassed and thrilled when Ben jumped up to greet him with a kiss. If anyone noticed, they would know he was loved, someone special, a significant other, and he revelled in the feeling.

‘I’ve ordered for you.’

‘Oh. Thanks.’

‘Thought it would save time. Knew you wouldn’t want to be late for your meeting with the sexy DI.’

‘No way.’ Although he laughed with Ben and went along with the joke, the worries remained to spoil the occasion.

He walked back to the office with Ben, only taking his fake phone call as he reached the middle of the main office. He gave a good show of annoyance, declaring he would swing for Mrs Angelo, before leaving to supposedly sort her out.

As he passed Gloria, she handed him a note from her message pad. ‘So no Anne again. You have given her the hump.’

‘Me. I didn’t do a thing.’

‘Well, I will keep your secret as it has been very peaceful here.’

Clive gave her a smile while thinking if only she knew.

Waiting until he was alone in the lift, he read Gloria’s note. It said
‘Mrs Sinclair phoned. The police had called at the house and had disturbed Mother, who was now in a foul mood. Please ring her.’

CHAPTER 46

M
att was quiet, thinking about Fluff and Jenny.

‘Of course this does mean we won’t be able to go off piste. I can’t expect you to lie to her.’

‘You want to go to see Harry and the bikes?’

‘It feels very important.’

‘Then we’ll call it something else, like forgetting to mention, rather than lying. If she asks outright then we come clean.’

‘I’ll take the flak anyway. You can always say I ordered you.’

Fluff laughed. ‘Yes, Guv.’

While Fluff phoned the spa to ask Harry to wait for them, Matt drove out through Warwick towards the bottleneck of the Warwick Island, thinking that in days gone by they would have been on horseback. And Fluff would be called Lady Jane, destined to spend her time within the castle walls, growing herbs and doing embroidery. He couldn’t imagine her, or Eppie, fitting in with that regime. But at least there wouldn’t be the morning traffic jams.

He hit the blue light, scaring all the motorists around him, as they wondered if it was intended for them. Easing out to the edge of the traffic, the other cars grudgingly gave way and they were soon free and heading towards the spa.

Harry was deadheading the last of the autumn roses as they drove up. He looked tired, and Matt was suddenly struck by how old he was and how much the death of Sandi had affected him. He had felt personally responsible for not being able to save her. Harry looked up as they got out of the car.

‘It is really good of you to wait, Harry. I know we are keeping you from your bed.’

‘Glad to do it, Guv. Glad to do anything that helps,’ Harry said, rolling the de-headed roses in his hand. ‘I’ve got the keys to the guest bikes, and I’ve made a list of everyone I can think of who comes to work by bike. There.’ He handed Matt a page torn from a reporter’s notebook, which contained several names written in a careful but scrawny hand.

‘Thank you, Harry, these will be invaluable, and we’ll check all of them out.’

Matt handed the list to Fluff as Harry led them through the building to one of the rear entrances and out into a small courtyard at the side of the building. It took the three of them less than ten minutes to come to the conclusion that all of the bikes were well maintained and none squeaked. Disappointed, Matt looked towards the staff bike rack. It was too early yet for a lot of the day staff to have arrived, and there were only two bikes there. Both were locked but could be moved a small distance proving that neither was what they were looking for.

After thanking Harry again for his help, Matt had to admit defeat. The rest of the bikes arriving with day staff would be checked as per Jenny’s orders by uniform. It was time that he got back to what he was supposed to be doing.

The first two visits were routine, two middle-aged businessmen making sure they made full use of their corporate membership. This apparently included dinner on a Saturday night. One had said he was with his wife and the other was entertaining a lady client.

Matt wasn’t interested in their white lies. That both had been dining with a woman on Saturday night, wife or otherwise, meant they had other things on their minds. While one gave his wife’s name, the other hesitated, leading Matt to promise that his companion would only be contacted in the unlikely event that they charged him with murder. At this, the man gulped and almost whispered the lady’s name.

As they left this last visit, Fluff agreed that neither man appeared to be their murderer, although she had carefully noted down everything they said.

Their next visit was to a software company, where they needed to talk to a Clive Draper. He had been dining at the spa on Saturday evening with his mother, so he was also an unlikely suspect, although as Fluff had pointed out, Clive had also been on the scene of the first murder and had been interviewed twice.

They were received graciously and directed to the second floor to be greeted by a middle-aged woman, who rose from her desk facing the lift. Gloria’s job as receptionist doubled as a guardian to stop unauthorized folk wandering about the offices. Matt smiled at her and produced his warrant card.

‘We need to have a quick word with Clive Draper.’

‘Certainly, Inspector. I believe Mr. Draper is out at a client’s, but I will just check for you.’

They waited while Gloria rang through and asked the question.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Draper is indeed out. One of his assistants is coming to have a word with you. If you would like to take a seat…’ She indicated a small, IKEA-type sofa in the corner. He will be with you in a moment, Sir.’

Fluff led the way to the sofa. It was not big enough for two people, so both elected to stand. A young man joined them almost immediately. His smile and dark good looks were set to charm. He offered Matt his hand.