Respect (Mandasue Heller) (35 page)

‘I want a name and address,’ Rob said again. ‘And don’t fuck around, ’cos I haven’t got time for this.’

‘She didn’t give me an address,’ Yvette croaked truthfully. ‘I found her online and only ever talked to her on the phone.’

‘So how did you get the pictures?’

‘She put them on her database and sent me a pin number after I paid. I’m sorry!’ she squealed when she saw the rage in his eyes, raising her hands to protect her face in case he hit her. ‘I love you, and I didn’t want to lose you. What else was I supposed to do?’

‘Show me the pictures.’ Rob shoved her towards the laptop that was sitting at the other end of the ledge. ‘All of them.’

Yvette’s hands were shaking as she unclipped the lid and brought up the PI’s website. ‘There’s nothing else on there,’ she told him as she typed in the code. ‘All I’ve got is the pin, and her phone number.’

Rob didn’t speak. He just stared at the screen and waited for the pictures to appear. When they came up a few seconds later, he scrolled through them until he reached the last batch, and leaned forward to study them. They were still grainy, but much clearer on the screen than in the printed versions, and his jaw clenched when he saw the details he’d missed first time around.

‘What are you doing?’ Yvette asked when he slammed the lid down and yanked the plug out of the wall.

‘Getting rid of this shit,’ he said. ‘And I’ll have that number while I’m at it.’ He snatched up her phone. ‘What’s it listed as?’

‘Pix. But don’t ring her,’ Yvette begged, scared that he was going to cause trouble with the woman and everyone would find out that their marriage was on the rocks. ‘She was only doing her job. It’s my fault, not hers.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Rob agreed, scrolling through her contact list until he found the number he wanted.

‘I just needed to know the truth,’ Yvette whimpered, wiping her nose on the back of her hand as fresh tears began to fall. ‘I love you so much, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.’

She winced when Rob reached out and cupped her face in his hand, but he peered down into her eyes and said quietly, ‘And I love you, too, or I wouldn’t still be here. But you’ve got to learn to keep your nose out of my business.’

‘I do try,’ she said plaintively, holding onto his hand with both of hers. ‘But it’s hard when I know you’re seeing someone else.’

‘I’m not seeing anyone,’ Rob lied. ‘Those women weren’t with me, they were with my client. And that’s why I need to get rid of these pictures and make sure they can’t reappear, because he’ll blame me if it gets out and his wife finds out.’

‘That’s his problem,’ Yvette said unsympathetically, grasping at his story because it was infinitely better than believing that Rob was the cheat.

‘No, it’s
ours
,’ said Rob. ‘He’s our biggest client, and if he puts word out that we can’t be trusted it’ll totally fuck the business up. That what you want? No money coming in; lose this house and everything we’ve ever worked for?’

‘No.’ Yvette shook her head.

‘Yeah, well, that’s what’ll happen if I don’t get it sorted,’ Rob said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Yvette murmured shamefacedly. ‘I didn’t think.’

‘Forget it.’ Rob sighed. Then, giving her a disappointed look, he said, ‘I really thought you’d got over all that jealousy shit. I told you I’d never hurt you like that again, and I meant it, so you should have trusted me. You’re the one I love. And, here, if you don’t believe me …’ He reached into his pocket and took out a small gift-wrapped box.

‘What is it?’ Yvette gazed up at him tearfully.

‘You didn’t think I was just going to give you flowers on our anniversary, did you?’

‘But …’

‘Sshhh.’ Rob lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘We’ll talk when I get back.’

Yvette gulped back her tears when he walked out and tore the wrapping from the box. When she opened it and saw the diamond earrings twinkling up at her, she stared at them in wonder. They were each a full carat, and they were absolutely flawless, and suddenly the sight of that stupid woman pawing Rob seemed trivial. As he’d said,
she
was the one he loved, and the proof was right here in her hand.

Adam was on the phone when Rob walked into the office. He finished his call and, grinning, sat back in his chair. ‘What are you doing back here? Thought you were supposed to be doing the old anniversary tango?’

‘We’ve got a problem,’ Rob told him, laying the laptop down on the desk.

‘What kind of problem?’ Adam asked, no longer smiling as he saw the serious look on his partner’s face.

‘A big one.’ Rob opened the screen and turned it to face him.

Adam looked at the pictures and drew his head back. ‘Oh. I see. Where did you get these?’

‘Yvette’s had a private investigator following me,’ Rob told him, tossing a cigarette to him and lighting one for himself. ‘Can you hack into the database and wipe it?’

‘Doubt it,’ Adam said, leaning forward for a light. ‘These kinds of agencies tend to have everything locked down as tight as tight can be.’

‘We’ve got to do
some
thing,’ Rob said, pacing the floor. ‘It’s all we’ve got, apart from a phone number.’

Adam took a drag on his cigarette and gazed thoughtfully down at the laptop screen again. ‘Ring it,’ he said after a while. ‘Tell them you want to have your wife followed, and arrange for them to send someone over to the old warehouse. I doubt they go to these things mob-handed but we can take Leroy, just in case.’

‘No.’ Rob shook his head. ‘This is messy enough without him getting involved. It’s supposed to be a woman, so even if she’s got a bloke with her we should be able to handle them between the two of us.’

Adam nodded and reached into his drawer for the mobile phone they used whenever they needed to make calls that couldn’t be traced back to them. He handed it over to Rob, then sat back as his friend made the call.

Bill was sitting at her desk, staring at the flickering figures on her laptop screen. Clients had been coming in hard and fast over the last few weeks and she’d had little time to catch breath between handling her own cases and running Chantelle around on hers. And when she
had
managed to snatch any time to herself she’d been too exhausted to tackle the mundane tasks like bringing her accounts up to date.

Too exhausted, or too lazy?

She pondered that thought with pursed lips and decided that neither description was particularly accurate. But each was infinitely preferable to admitting that she was simply getting too old for this lark. She had been toying with the idea of training Chantelle to take over the reins when the time came to call it a day, but in light of recent events she was no longer sure that it was such a good idea.

Bill sighed and stared at the screen again, only to find that the numbers had begun to merge together. It was almost seven p.m. so she decided to give up the fight and go home. The accounts could wait until morning.

She had just closed the laptop down and slipped it into its carry-case when the phone rang.

‘Is this the private investigator?’ a man asked when she answered.

‘It is,’ Bill confirmed, holding the phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she reached for her handbag. ‘How may I help you?’

‘Sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before.’ The caller sounded nervous. ‘I, er, want someone to follow my wife. Do you do that sort of thing?’

‘We do.’

‘Oh, good. So, um, how does it work?’

‘If you decide to go ahead,’ Bill said, taking her keys out of her bag and standing up to slip her coat on, ‘you’ll be charged by the hour, and payment will be taken in full via debit or credit card before any evidence is released to you – regardless of the outcome.’

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ the man agreed. ‘So, when can you start? Only, I could really do with you getting onto it tonight, if possible?’

‘
Tonight?
’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘No, no problem.’ Bill rolled her eyes and sat back down. She had been looking forward to an early night, but work was work so she wasn’t about to turn it down. ‘I’ll just take a few details,’ she said, sliding the laptop back out of its case. ‘And I’ll need you to email me a recent photograph of your wife …’

27

It was 8.45 when Bill turned onto the road where the client had told her his wife worked. It was way out on the outskirts of Salford, and it had been a good few miles since she’d seen any sign of life. The street lamps had become more spaced out the further out she’d come, and there were none at all in sight now, so she felt as if she’d entered tumbleweed territory as her headlights picked out the silhouetted rubbish that lined the dark undergrowth on both sides of the road.

She slowed down when she saw a low white building up ahead and peered out at it as she drew alongside the chained-up gate. There were no lights showing at the metal-grilled windows, and no sign of any vehicles in the enclosure.

Bill drove on a little way and reversed into a dark lay-by. When she had parked up she checked the address again. It was the right place, and she frowned as she gazed back across the road. The client had said that his wife worked here, and that she left at nine p.m. each night. She was supposed not to have been getting home until gone eleven and he wanted Bill to follow her to see if she’d been going for after-work drinks – and more – with her boss, as he suspected. But there was obviously some mistake here. Either he had accidentally given her the wrong address, or she’d been sent on a wild-goose chase. It wouldn’t be the first time.

‘Oh, well, looks like we’ll be getting that early night after all,’ she said to Mitzy, who was lying on the passenger seat. ‘Want to do your business before we go?’

When the dog sat up Bill unclipped her seat belt and climbed stiffly out of the car. When the dog waddled off in search of a suitable spot, Bill stretched her aching back and strolled across to the warehouse gates. She’d just reached them when she heard a loud yelp behind her.

‘Mitzy?’ She turned and walked quickly back to the car. ‘What’s the matter, girl? Have you stood on something sharp? Come to momma, let me take a look.’

When no sound came back to her, Bill’s heart leapt into her throat and she moved forward slowly, dreading with every step that she was about to find the dog badly injured – or worse. When she saw something move from the corner of her eye, she snapped her head around and squinted into the pitch darkness. ‘Mitzy …? Is that you, girl?’

Chantelle hadn’t been able to settle after leaving Bill’s office earlier that morning and she’d been wandering around like a lost soul ever since: one minute regretting her decision to expose Rob; the next, glad that she’d done it and desperate to know if he’d got his comeuppance.

His wife had to know by now, because Bill had called this afternoon to say that she had decided to send the pictures to her. She had also said that she still hadn’t made up her mind about keeping Chantelle on after her breaching of the rules. But, as gutted as she would be if she was fired, Chantelle just wanted to know what was happening with Rob and Yvette. It was nine p.m. now, and Rob hadn’t called since this morning. That was unusual, because he’d usually have called a couple of times by now, or at least have messaged her. She just hoped his silence meant that he had been busted.

Irritated by Chantelle’s constant pacing and frenetic cleaning, Leon had taken himself off to his room after dinner to listen to music in peace. He was keeping his volume down, but Chantelle could still hear the throb of the bass through the wall and it was grating on her nerves. She’d already polished and scrubbed everything twice over, so she sat down now and switched the TV on, desperate for something to take her mind off Rob. In no mood for light-hearted programmes, she turned on the local news, and chewed on her thumbnail as she gazed at the screen.

Ten minutes passed, and she hadn’t heard a single word the presenter had been saying. But when a picture flashed up on the screen now, she jerked out of her reverie and quickly turned up the volume.

‘… Twenty-year-old Mariska was reported as missing by her parents, who became concerned when she failed to contact them after leaving her home in Latvia to start a new life in Manchester. They believed that she had secured a job as an au pair, but police have as yet been unable to locate the couple who were set to be her new employers.’

The picture changed now, and Chantelle stared at the CCTV shot of a woman who seemed to be walking through a crowded airport terminal.

‘
We know from this footage taken at Manchester Airport on Monday night that Mariska arrived in the country, but there have been no sightings of her since
,’ the presenter went on. ‘
If you have seen her, or have any information about her whereabouts, Detective Inspector Ian Peterson of Greater Manchester Police would like to hear from you on the number being displayed at the foot of the screen. There are concerns that Mariska’s disappearance may be connected to that of three similar cases …
’

When photographs of three more dark-haired girls popped up on the screen, Chantelle gasped and reached for her phone. Bill’s mobile rang several times before going to voicemail and Chantelle guessed that her boss must be out on a job, because she always kept it on silent when she was working. Irritated, because she desperately wanted to speak to her, Chantelle waited for the beep and then garbled out her message.

Taken by surprise when two shadowy figures suddenly leapt out from behind a bush and rushed at her, Bill cried out in alarm and stumbled backwards, losing her footing and banging her head on the wing of the car as she went down. Dazed, she peered up at the man who was looming over her as the other one circled the car.

‘What do you want?’ she croaked, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. ‘I haven’t got any money.’

‘I don’t want your fucking money,’ he hissed. ‘I want the film.’

‘What film?’ Bill’s confusion quickly cleared when the man squatted down and she got her first good look at his face.

‘You know what I’m talking about,’ he said. ‘You sent the photographs to my wife, but I want the original film they came off.’