Urge to Kill (1) (29 page)

With a final look around, the man signalled her to go, and Eppie scrambled out pausing only to say thank you. The policeman seemed annoyed at this and indicated for her to go quickly up the pathway.

Eppie felt like a schoolgirl but did as she was told. As she approached the front door, it opened and the woman known as Fluff ushered her in. Inside the hallway it was dim, but as her eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, Eppie noticed the wonderful pattern of what must be the original flagstones.

Fluff led the way upstairs to the first floor, turning right at the top of the stairs towards the front of the house. It was much lighter here, and the landing was wide and carpeted. Eppie guessed the house was divided into flats. Fluff opened a white door marked ‘Four’ and stepped aside for Eppie to enter.

Eppie was struck by the amount of light that flooded into the room from the street lamps. Combined with the light-coloured sofas and the small table lamps, it gave the room a glowing, cheerful feeling. Eppie moved instinctively to look out of the large bay widow.

‘Sorry, but it will be best if you stay away from the windows,’ Fluff said, moving beside her to close the floor to ceiling curtains.

Eppie stepped back. ‘Oh, I didn’t think.’ She realised with a shock how serious this was. How long would she have to stay here? And when would she see Matt? Suppose they never caught the murderer? She didn’t want to be here with a strange woman who knew more about her husband than she did.

‘I’ll show you your room and then put the kettle on.’

Eppie guessed she was trying to lighten the situation. ‘Thanks. I didn’t bring much, so it won’t take me long to unpack. Sorry to be fostered on you like this.’

‘Part of the job,’ Fluff said.

From the way she said it, Eppie thought it sounded as if it was the very last thing she wanted. She couldn’t think of anything to say to make the situation easier, so she followed meekly along behind her.

‘Bathroom,’ Fluff indicated, pushing open the door to a large modern bathroom, white and gleaming, complete with bath and shower. ‘And here is your room.’

Eppie moved past Fluff into the room. This room was light, too, but the window was much smaller. The room had the same basic colours of the living room except for the bedspread, which was of a multi-coloured patchwork design that added a comfortable cheerfulness to the room. As she put her bag on the bed, Eppie knew she could survive happily here and turned to thank Fluff, only to find she had gone.

As she unpacked, Eppie wondered what she was supposed to call Fluff, as that was her nickname at work. As she put a few things away, she began a guessing game in her head as to what Fluff’s real name was.

‘Tea or coffee?’ Fluff called from the kitchen.

Instead of calling back, Eppie made her way to the kitchen. Now this was more like it. Although it was modern, the room had a warm homey feeling that Eppie had been longing for. It was very spacious after Matt’s tiny flat, and there was even room for a wooden table with four chairs.

The heart of the house
, Eppie thought, remembering those days at her Gran’s when she had made her first biscuits with little, somewhat grubby, hands and waited as the smell wafted through the kitchen for them to be taken from the oven. She had been so proud as Granddad, who said he was the official taster, had taken the first one and declared that they were the best biscuits he had ever eaten.

As if reading her mind, Fluff produced a tin of biscuits and placed it in the centre of the table. ‘Not homemade I’m afraid. Have a seat. Did you say tea?’

‘Yes, please. I love your kitchen—the whole flat. Matt’s…ours is so small.’ Eppie had the feeling that she was being disloyal to Matt but Fluff seemed to understand.

‘They don’t need the space we do,’ she said, handing Eppie a mug of tea.

As Eppie sipped, Fluff pushed the biscuit tin towards her.

‘Help yourself. They’re kept in that cupboard. Below, tea and coffee and then cereals,’ Fluff pointed to the right. ‘Have a potter through and you’ll soon find where everything is.’

‘You won’t be here?’ Eppie couldn’t stop herself asking.

‘I’ll be working as normal, but you will be fine,’ she added. ‘Don’t answer the door to anyone—or the phone. Downstairs left, Jake. Some sort of writer; you’ll probably never see him. Right, lovely Mary. Used to be a nurse. She’d do anything for you. But remember she is eighty. Opposite, Tilly and Don, both work in a bank. Haven’t been here long and keep themselves to themselves.’

‘It’s a beautiful place to live.’

‘We’ll call you by mobile if we need to. Stay in and mind the windows. A patrol will go past every hour, and if you are worried just call the station.’

‘Oh, I just thought—’

‘Super’s just taking precautions, as you’re one of our own.’

Eppie had never thought that by marrying Matt she would gain an adoptive family, and at first it seemed quite nice, but then, thinking about it, somewhat controlling as she had had no say in any of the arrangements. She felt a bit like a parcel that was being passed around. She had a thousand questions but decided to keep the conversation light. ‘Have you had to babysit anyone before?’

Fluff put down her mug and shook her head. ‘Not at home, only a hotel and once at a safe house.’

‘Do you think it will take long?’

‘Impossible to say. This murderer is clever. It may take a while before he slips up. Our only hope is if he begins to think he is omniscient. That no one can catch him. That will be our chance.’

Eppie felt daunted. In the rush, she had never really thought that she would be away for long. There was the apple crumble waiting in the oven. She must remind Matt it was there. Then she realised how silly she was being. Matt had far more important things to worry about. She told herself she would have to get on with it, make sure that she didn’t add to his burden. ‘Please call me “Eppie,” and what should I call you? “Fluff” is for work isn’t it?’

Fluff laughed. ‘Yes. My name is Jane. All my friends outside of work call me that.’

Eppie felt privileged to be included in the friend’s group and started to relax. It wouldn’t be so bad and she and Fluff—Jane—could get to know each other a lot better. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so separate and shut off from Matt’s work life.

‘Have you eaten?’

The thought of the lovely meal she had prepared made Eppie feel sad. ‘Yes, thanks. We were in the middle of roast beef dinner when all this kicked off.’

‘Hey, stop. You are making me hungry just thinking about it.’

‘Haven’t you eaten?’

Fluff grimaced. ‘Was on for a promise of pasta and a bottle of wine. But it all hinged on how the case was going anyway.’

‘I’ve really messed up your evening, haven’t I?’

‘Not really. Think I would have been asleep in five minutes to tell the truth.’

‘Tell him it was my fault.’

‘
Her
,’ Fluff emphasised.

For a moment Eppie wondered if she had heard right. ‘Oh I see. Well she will probably be more understanding.’

‘Yes. She’ll be fine.’

There was quiet for a moment. Eppie realised this meant Fluff wasn’t a threat to her and Matt. She had been silly to think about it. She broke the silence. ‘You’ll need something to eat.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll have a slice of toast or something.’

‘I’ve messed up your date, so let me throw something together while you relax and have a shower. It’s the least I can do.’

‘You really enjoy this cooking lark don’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes, I think I do. Wasn’t sure at first, but I like it.’

‘The ideal wife. You will be giving the rest of us a bad name,’ Fluff laughed.

‘Hardly. And I’m sure Matt wouldn’t agree.’

‘Not upsetting him already are you?’

‘He’s a bit old fashioned I suppose.’

‘Aren’t they all? What they really want is a replacement mother.’

‘I hope not,’ said Eppie, appalled at the thought.

Fluff laughed at the face Eppie was pulling before saying, ‘If you’re sure, think I might grab that shower.’

While Fluff was showering, Eppie opened every drawer in the kitchen. It was well equipped but needed stocking up on grocery items. She had a hard time deciding what to prepare but in the end opted for simple pasta with a sauce made from limp mushrooms and squashy tomatoes, topped with grated cheddar from which she had scraped off the mould. By the time Fluff joined her, the meal was waiting and smelt really appetising.

‘Now I could get used to this,’ Fluff said, as she sat down at the kitchen table.

It wasn’t much later that Eppie opted for turning in. Jane was on the phone to her partner and Eppie felt a pang of guilt for upsetting their plans. As she got ready for bed, she realised how tired she was. All the tension of the day was taking its toll.

Placing her mobile on the bedside table, she lay wondering if she should call Matt but decided against it as he could still be working. Then, just as she was drifting into a troubled sleep, the phone rang and she was talking to Matt. His voice sounded tired, but lightened as they exchanged brief words of love.

CHAPTER 43

T
he flat seemed darker and emptier than ever before. Matt wandered from room to room, as if hoping to find Eppie, but also knowing that he needed to check to see if it was safe. Not that this type of murderer was going to put himself face-to-face with anyone who would be a match for him, just unsuspecting young women. Was McRay right? Did this man know him? His first thought was that it must be something to do with Gracie, but he soon ruled this out. Gracie’s Mother had died just two years after her daughter, and her father had remarried. So it must be something to do with this case. Someone they had interviewed already. They had interviewed so many people, and he began reviewing them all in his head while moving through the flat.

After checking everywhere, he went into the kitchen. The faint aroma of apple brought back vivid memories of what had happened earlier. Matt opened the oven and took the crumble out. Always his favourite, it was still slightly warm and made him feel close to Eppie.

He had arrived home many times late at night, but never before had it felt as if there was something missing—a warmth and loving. Three weeks living with Eppie, and she had only been gone a few hours, leaving him feeling lost and lonely.

Matt thought again of Tom Graham and wondered if he was alone tonight. He and Sandi would never be together again, never have their wedding or the chance of a life together.

He had the sudden impulse to call Eppie, to hear her voice. She sounded sleepy.

‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’

‘No. Just dozing. It’s hard in a strange bed. Besides, I miss you.’

‘Me too. I’m just about to tuck into the crumble. Made me think of you,’ Matt said wistfully.

‘So it’s all cupboard love then?’

‘Damn. You’ve sussed me out. Fluff looking after you?’

‘Yes. I like her,’ Eppie said, her voice sounding light.

‘That’s not hard.’

‘It is when she works with your husband. How about you? Where are you?’

‘At home.’

‘Is that safe?’

‘Yes,’ Matt assured her. ‘Believe me, this sort of pervert wouldn’t want to face me, not unless he was backed into a corner.’

‘I hope you’re right. Please take care, Matt.’

‘You too. Do everything Fluff says.’

‘Will do. Love you.’

‘Sleep well, Love.’

It was a brief call, but it made him feel better. When it was over, he loaded a dish with apple crumble and took it into the living room. Seated in his chair, he enjoyed the crumble and then sat back to let the details of the case wash over him, together with relaxing tiredness. In this half-asleep state, he began thinking of Sandi’s last phone call to Tom. Beyond the pathetic last words, was there anything there that would help him to catch her murderer?

As he drifted into a half sleep he began thinking of the squeak in the background and began running through all things he could remember that squeaked. Doors squeaked, cars sometimes developed an annoying squeak, pens, chalk on blackboards, and the lid of the photocopier. He had a bike once that squeaked, until his Granddad had showed him how to use an oilcan. A bike, now that might be it.

Matt sat upright. Could the murderer have come and gone by bike? Excited by the idea, Matt felt full of energy. He needed to do something now. Jumping to his feet, he reached for the phone. If Harry was on duty tonight, he would go and see him. Harry could tell him if any of the staff came or went by bike around that time of night.

Matt rang Harry, who said of course he could come round, he would be glad of the company. The policemen in the patrol car circling the grounds were not very talkative, although Harry had offered them a coffee.

Matt drove fast, needing to put on the blue light only in the built-up areas to ease his way through the few night owls. He drove past the dark bulk of Kenilworth Castle with its ruined towers reaching high into the night sky.

Harry was waiting to unlock as Matt drew up. He swung back the double doors and led Matt to the comfortable chairs near the desk, where two cups of coffee waited. Matt took a grateful sip. ‘Thanks, Harry. I needed that.’

‘It’s been a long, sad day, Sir. She was a lovely girl. I don’t know who would want to do that.’ Harry shook his head.

‘Harry, do many of the staff come to work by bike?’ Matt broke in before Harry could get into reminisces about Sandi. It seemed a little hard, but he had come for a reason.

‘Why, yes. I do myself, always have. Keeps me fit, it does,’ he said proudly. ‘Is that important, Sir?’

‘Well, it could be. Does your bike have a squeak, Harry?’

‘I should think not. I keep all my equipment in good order. Why my old sergeant would have me up on a charge…that he would. Here, you can see for yourself.’ Harry rose and moved to open the folding door of a room marked ‘Luggage Room’ to the left of Reception.

Matt could see that it was empty, except for a bike and what looked like an old wheelchair in the far corner. Harry paraded his bike before Matt.

‘There you go. Perfect working order. Wouldn’t have it any other way.’