An Unfamiliar Murder (16 page)

“What’s your favorite genre?”

“I like a bit of everything,” she replied.

“Favorites?”

“Well – I do love Jane Austen. I know it’s a bit girly but
Pride and Prejudice
is my favorite.”
When he nodded knowingly, she started. “You’ve read it?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of time on my hands
inside
.” He laughed. “Took a lot of stick for it, mind you, but I
wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“And what did you think?”

“If we’re talking classics, I prefer
Papillon
.”

“Good book,” she nodded.

“But I tend to prefer a bit of Fantasy,” he said. “Give me Terry
Pratchet
any day. Do you read Fantasy?”

“Not so much Fantasy, but I do love Terry
Pratchet
.
So. Favorites?”

He chuckled at her repeating his words. “Well,” he narrowed his eyes
cheekily. “I could say
Guards
Guards
, but you might consider that a bit of a guy
book. So, I’ll go with
Fifth Elephant
.”

“
Angua
the werewolf & Captain Carrot!” They
both laughed out loud.

“
Interesting Times
too. I’ve
always wanted to travel to the East.”

Anna was in her comfort zone now. The conversation moved from books to
travel, and she was surprised at how much she was enjoying herself. They
ordered more coffee and this time she ordered a latte, allowing the afternoon
to pass easily and comfortably with lots of laughter. When she next looked out
of the window, it was dark.

She looked across at
Rab
. “What time is it?”

He checked his watch. “Nearly ten minutes to six.”

“God! I have to go. I didn’t realize it was that late.” She jumped up,
grabbed her coat and motioned to sling it over her shoulders.

“It was fun wasn’t it?” he asked, his face widening into a grin.

“Great. We’ll meet up again soon. If you like?”

“Sure.”

“Give me a call.”

He nodded. “Look forward to it.”

“Err. Can I ask one more question before I go?” She grimaced, “A serious
one?”

“OK.” He looked directly at her as she sat back down.

“How did we get separated all those years ago?”

 
“Dad crashed out after Mum died.
He shriveled, turned to the bottle, so we were mostly left to look after each
other. On the day they took you from me, Dad had disappeared again and I stayed
off school to look after you. I guess it was probably the school that called
them.”

His eyes glazed over, staring into space as he recalled the memory. “They
arrived in a police car, but I wouldn’t let them take you. I locked us in the
house until they assured me that we would go together, we wouldn’t be parted.”

“Then they drove us to this big, brick building. I’ll never forget it. We
were shut in a bare, white room together, with one of
them
sitting in a corner watching.” His eyes were wide, but
concentrated, as if he were reliving it on an invisible television. “You were
sitting on my lap when a women came in and said she wanted to talk to me alone,
didn’t want to frighten you. She
prised
you off my
lap and you wailed. But she insisted, said it was only for a few minutes, it
would be for the best. She took me away and closed the door firmly behind me. I
never saw you again.” His eyes were heavy. “I’ll never forget your scream at
that moment. It’s haunted me for years.”

Anna stared at
him and swallowed hard. “I’ve always hated closed doors”, she whispered.

Chapter Thirteen

Ross was
standing in the hallway by the time Anna had unlocked the door, arms firmly
crossed against his chest. “Where have you been?” he asked, with the resonance
of a mature married man addressing a straying wife.

“You won’t believe it,” she replied, oblivious to his angst, a goofy smile
stretching from ear to ear as she wheeled the bike in.

“This is no joke, Anna,” he snapped, shaking his head incredulously. “It’s
gone half past six. I’ve phoned everyone we know. I was giving you ten more
minutes before I called the police.”

“Why didn’t you ring my mobile?” she said, taken aback, her face falling
as she peeled off her outer clothing.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She’d completely
forgotten that she turned it off earlier. She switched it on, examined the
panel which showed three missed calls. “Damn. Sorry.”

“I’ve been worried sick.”

 
“Sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”

“The time! Christ, Anna, how could you have missed it? It’s pitch black
outside, not to mention thick fog? And with those petty lights.” He pointed at
the
Brompton
and shook his head. “Are you trying to
give me a heart attack?”

She could have driven home with no lights at all for all she cared at
this moment. “Sorry, really I am, but I’ve had an amazing afternoon,” she said
as she hung up her coat and helmet. But Ross simply drew in a deep breath
through his teeth, shook his head and stalked into the lounge.

He was sitting on the sofa by the time Anna joined him, wide eyes staring
at a blank TV screen. “So where have you been?” he asked, not looking up.

“I went to meet my brother!” She missed the muscle that flexed in his
jaw. “Oh Ross, he’s really nice – you must meet him. He’s really interesting. I
. . .” She stopped as he stood, nostrils flared. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t believe this Anna. You went to meet him? On your own? After
everything that’s happened over the past few days?”

She clenched her teeth. The last thing she needed now was a lecture,
especially from Ross. “What do you mean?”

“He’s a known criminal Anna. Your father was murdered. You put two and
two together.”

“He’s not a suspect. I checked with the DCI first.” Her voice cracked in
defense. She coughed slightly in an attempt to hide it.

“Oh, that makes it alright then, does it?” he said, his face contorting
sarcastically. “That doesn’t mean he’s not involved in some way! Don’t you
think it might have been wise to have let this all blow over before you
arranged to meet up and do the happy family bit?”

“That’s not fair!” she retorted indignantly.

“What’s not fair? That you didn’t tell anyone? Or that you went to meet a
total stranger, known criminal even, days after finding the dead body of your
biological father in your flat? Think about it for a moment Anna. Doesn’t that
sound like playing with fire?”

I did think about it. And it was
something I had to do on my own
, she thought
.
But she didn’t want to risk hurting Ross’ feelings, even if he
was being so crabby. It wasn’t his fault. “I met him in a public place,” she
said calmly. “What could happen?”

Ross shook his head. “If the events of the last few days teach you
anything, it should be caution.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well
somebody
killed Jim
McCafferty
. Haven’t you wondered why or who?”

“Of course. Hey . . .” she hesitated. “You think they’re going to come after
me?” Her face flushed.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you think.”

“All I know is that there is a killer out there. And I would feel a lot
happier if you would stay safe.”

Anna was crying now, the tears flowing down her cheeks like a leak in a pipe
gaining momentum. “I’m sorry.”

The breakdown in her composure crushed his resolve. He reached out and
pulled her to his chest, hugging her tightly. They stood there for a few
moments before he spoke, “I’m sorry, Honey, I’m just worried about you, that’s
all.”

She nodded, wiping tears off her face with the back of her hand.

“Come on, let’s go and get a take away. You might as well tell me all
about meeting your brother.” He smiled. “I can see you’ll self combust if you
don’t!”

“I can’t.” She raised her head to look at the clock on the wall and
gasped at the vertical hand pointing up. “I’m meeting Chief Inspector
Lavery
for coffee. I’m already late.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure really. Maybe she has some news.”

“Oh, OK.” He looked downcast. “Where?”

“Hayes.”

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“I’ll be fine really. I’m meeting a detective for goodness sake.”

“OK. Take my car and be careful. Park right outside and call me when you
get there.”

She nodded, raising her eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll be fine, honestly. I’m
not a total imbecile, Ross, I can manage.”

*
* *

Helen drained
her coffee mug, rested back in her chair and glanced at the surrounding empty
tables. It had ended up being a very frustrating day. The landlords at Jim
McCafferty’s
favorite pubs were not particularly helpful.
Neither could recall seeing anybody out of the ordinary with him on the weeks
leading up to the murder. Pemberton and Dark had gone back that evening to have
another go at the regulars.

Left with a rather vague description from the check out assistant at
Weston’s One Stop Shop of a tall, blond man with pale eyes (he couldn’t even
remember what he had been wearing), Helen had spent half an hour with the force
technology experts before sending the CCTV footage out it to an independent
company in an attempt at enhancing and sharpening the images.
More money – that’ll please the Super.
Then,
to rub salt into the wound, just as she left work she received an email from
Jenkins himself. It was a copy of an email he had sent to DCI Sawford, asking
if he was available to assist with the investigation. He wasn’t going to let
this one lie.

Home hadn’t offered much solace. Matthew had been quiet over dinner and
retreated to his room thereafter. She had followed him, explained that he
couldn’t go to the party on Saturday night because he was grounded, and that he
was to apologize to his grandmother for his behavior. He had just shrugged and
said ‘okay’.

Helen exhaled a long, sad sigh. She missed John.
How different would things be if he were still around?
Matthew had
been five when he died. He still had memories of him. How had that affected
him? She had always tried to be a mother and father to the boys, with the help
of her own mother, but they did lack a strong male figure. Her own father died
before the boys were born and John’s parents were ensconced in Newcastle. They were lucky if they saw them
once a year. Maybe he felt as though he had no one to talk to . . .

 
No one to talk to.
Helen could relate to
that. Often her head felt like a caged animal. She had no one, no one outside
the family that is. Oh, she had friends, lots, but over the years contact had
drifted off to weekly, monthly, then occasional phone calls. Demands of the job
and commitments to her family didn’t allow much time for anyone else.

Her eyes fell on the waitress who was leaning on the counter, reading a
magazine, twisting her hair absentmindedly around the index finger on her free
hand. Helen pulled back her sleeve to look at her watch and sighed. It was
seven twenty. Anna was late. Perhaps she wasn’t coming?

She thought hard. The key to solving this crime was associated with Anna
– she felt sure of it.
Does she hold it?
Helen didn’t think so, but something in her past, present, her family life, her
social circle, or wider family structure would lead them to the killer. Helen
was so sure of this that she didn’t want to let Anna out of her sight for long.
Sooner or later, perhaps even inadvertently, something would slip.

The door burst open and in rushed Anna. “Sorry I’m late.”

Helen stood up. “It’s okay. Thank you for coming.” She gestured to the
chair opposite and they both sat down. She couldn’t fail to notice the red
marks around Anna’s eyes, but chose not to mention it. Not yet, anyway.

“Can I get you anything?”

 
Anna slipped her coat off her
shoulders and sunk into the chair opposite. “I’ll just have a latte, thank you.”

The waitress sauntered over and Helen ordered a latte for Anna and a
cappuccino for herself. As the waitress wandered back over to the coffee
machine, Helen watched Anna blow into the palms of her hands, rub them together
and then over her face.

 
“Hard day?”

“I don’t know whether I’m coming or going,” she replied. “One minute I’m
right up there, the next I’m at rock bottom. I feel . . .” She hesitated for a
moment, as if she was trying to find the right word. “Weary.”

Helen nodded. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. It’s understandable
that you’ll experience a whole gamut of emotions. There are people you can talk
to you know . . .”

“No, thank you.”

She watched Anna chew the side of her lip. “How was it returning to the
flat?”

“Strange.” She managed half a smile. “They cleaned it up. It was a relief
not to see blood stains splattered up the walls.”

 
Helen tipped her head in silent
acknowledgement.

“I wasn’t expecting all the press attention though.”

“
Ahhh
.” She gave Anna a knowing look. The press
were another ball game altogether, especially if you weren’t used to their
tactics. “Did you speak to any of them?”

“No, should I have done?”

“Not at all. I would prefer you to leave all that to us. An odd word or
sentence misconstrued can mislead the Press and whip people into panic. We like
to keep them on a tight leash if we can.” Anna pressed her lips together and
nodded once in acknowledgement. “Don’t worry. It’ll die down sooner than you
think.”

The coffee mugs arrived and they sat in silence as the waitress placed
them on the table and returned to her magazine at the counter.

Helen watched Anna wrap her hands around the large mug, to feel the heat
from the hot coffee within. “How did you get on with your brother this
afternoon?” she asked hopefully.

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t got a clue. There were so many things I
wanted to say, but when I got there I couldn’t remember any of them.” She
lifted her mug and sipped the hot coffee. “It didn’t seem to matter though. We
found plenty of things to talk about. He was very nice.”

“I’m glad it went well. What did you talk about?”

“Books, travel. We appear to have a lot in common.”

Helen nodded. “Did he talk you to you about your father?”

“Jim
McCafferty
?” It still felt odd to Anna to
think of him as her dad. “Not much.” Helen sipped her coffee deep in thought. “I
asked him why he thought that Jim was killed in my flat.”

“Really? And what did he say?”

“He had no idea, but wanted to find out.”

“Oh. Did he say how he planned to do that?”

“No.” Anna was starting to get fed up with all of the questions about her
meeting with
Rab
. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

Helen looked up. “I’ll do that.”

“He’s very easy company,” Anna said, absentmindedly. Helen couldn’t help
but agree inwardly.
Rab
McCafferty
had certainly charmed the pants off the press at the conference earlier that
afternoon, praising the police for their efforts. She couldn’t have asked for
more. There were no outward signs, nothing in his body language or mannerisms
to indicate guilt when they had watched the recording afterwards. But something
was still niggling away at her.
The
killer has to be somebody close to the family.

“There are so many things I want to ask him,” continued Anna, raising her
mug back up to her lips.

Helen nodded. “You’ll have plenty of other opportunities.”

“Sure. It’s just all so confusing.” Her eyebrows fused together.

“How so?”

“Well, it’s like . . . Oh, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Try me,” Helen said gently.

“It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Because of the adoption?”

“I guess so. It sounds a bit dramatic, but it almost feels like an
identity crisis.” She gazed out of the window into the dark street beyond.

“You are Anna Cottrell. The same person you were on Friday, before all
this happened.”

“But I’m not the same, am I? My parents aren’t my real parents. I have a
brother who I don’t even know. A dad I don’t recall ever meeting, who was
murdered in my own flat. It’s just a mess.”

“There’s more to being a parent than blood alone. They raised you,
nurtured you,” Helen said. Anna looked away again unconvinced. “How are
they
taking this?”

“It’s alright for them. They were in on the big secret.”

“Must have been difficult though. To harbor that ‘
secret’
for so many years.”

“Yes well, not as difficult as for me.”

“Do you get along with them?”

“My mother is tricky, but it’s not her fault. She’s had a difficult life.”

“How so?”

“Her parents,” she hesitated momentarily, “Err, died when she was young.”

Helen nodded. Anna’s expression betrayed that she had guessed the police
already knew their background. “What about your father?”

“He’s a wonderful man. Part of me genuinely feels sorry for him – trying
so hard to please everybody over the years.”

“He sounds very special.”