Relentless (17 page)

I wondered then how much she knew. She couldn't have been
aware of Jack's phone call, or his murder, but I assumed she
must have known about Vanessa's death, as they'd both been at
the university together today. But there were a lot of questions
she ngeded to answer.

Before I could think where to start, she motioned towards the
doorway. 'Who's your friend?'
'This is Daniels. He's been helping me. Daniels, this is my
wife, Kathy.'
As Kathy nodded an acknowledgement, he walked into the
room, switching on the light. The room suddenly seemed very
bright as he came forward and put out a hand, which she took.
'Pleased to meet you,' he said, with a tight, humourless smile.
Which was the moment when Kathy snatched back her hand
and the expression on her face changed completely. A new
emotion now dominated it.
Fear.

26

It was ten past ten when Bolt and Mo pulled up at Jack Calley's
house. Several police vehicles were still parked at the side of the
road, and the glow of floodlights came through the trees up on
the hill where the SOCO officers continued to work in the area
where the body had been found. They were atrocious conditions
to be operating in, but nothing could stop the hunt for forensic
clues. Rather them than me, thought Bolt as he and Mo got out
of the car. No-one seemed to be around, which was convenient
as he didn't fancy having to explain himself to Lambden, who he
knew would be pissed off, and might try to cause trouble.
They walked swiftly through the rain up to the neighbouring

house, where the older couple had been standing outside earlier.
It was a bigger place than Calley's, a whitewashed two-storey
building constructed in the style of a Mediterranean villa, with
shutters on the windows and fingers of ivy running up towards
the gently sloping roof. A covered porch, dotted with plant pots,
ran the length of the ground floor, and two hanging lamps
like orbs guided visitors to the front door. Bolt would have
loved to live in a place like this, although he would probably
have transplanted it to Italy or Greece, or somewhere where
there was a better class of criminal.
They darted under the porch roof, dodging the streams of
water running down onto the patio, and got their warrant cards
ready as Bolt rang the doorbell. After a long pause, they heard
footsteps coming from inside and then the door was slowly
opened on a chain. The same man they'd seen earlier, silver
haired and in his late sixties, appeared in the gap, wearing a
cautious expression that wasn't surprising given that they were
both in civilian clothes.
'Can I help you?' he asked.
Bolt did the introductions and said that they were working on
a case related to the murder. 'We know it's very late, and I
apologize, but is it possible that we can come inside for a
minute?'
The man nodded slowly. Behind him they heard his wife ask
who was at the door. 'The police,' he answered, releasing the
chain and stepping aside to allow them in.
They followed him through the hallway and into a large and
comfortable sitting room whose walls were lined with numerous
tourist-shop ornaments and other bric-a-brac. There were china
plates with maps of Greek islands on them; wine bottles in
baskets; paintings of Mediterranean beach scenes; even a couple

of model donkeys. It should all have looked very garish, but
somehow it managed to avoid it.
Their host introduced himself as Bernard Crabbe. His wife, a
small, very round woman of about the same age who milled about
them like an indecisive mother hen, was introduced as Debbie.
'We'd like to ask you some questions about Jack Calley,' Bolt
told them both.
'Please, would you like to sit down?' asked Mr Crabbe.
'No, it's OK. We don't need to stay long. I'm sure you'd like
to go to bed.'
'It's a bit difficult with all this excitement going on.'
'Jack was a very good neighbour,' added Mrs Crabbe. 'He
always fed Monty and Horace, our cats, when we went away. It's
such a tragedy to have his life taken away from him so young.'
Bolt and Mo made sympathetic noises.
'Did you know that Jack was Lord Chief Justice ParnhamJones's
solicitor?' asked Mrs Crabbe, sounding very excited by
this fact.
'Yes, we did,' said Mo, who was gazing with interest at a lace
doily with a pair of flamenco dancers in the middle that had
pride of place above the television.
'We saw him come to the house,' added Mr Crabbe. 'Not that
long ago either. Perhaps two or three weeks. I asked Jack about
it and he told me that he did personal legal work for his
lordship.'
'It's a tragedy about him too,' said Mrs Crabbe, who was still
clucking about. 'I felt he was a very humane Lord Chief Justice
who didn't pander to the demands of populism. It's about time
someone stood up to the tabloids.'
Bolt wondered if she'd still say the same thing if she heard the
allegations about him that had been made tonight.

'The main reason we're here,' he said, 'is to find out if you've
ever seen this man with Jack at all.' He held out the photo of
Tom and Kathy Meron.
'Let me get my glasses,' said Mrs Crabbe, looking around her
with a sudden urgency. 'Have you seen my glasses, Bernard?'
Mr Crabbe said he hadn't. His own were hanging around his
neck. He put them on and took the photo from Bolt, inspecting it carefully.
'Does he look at all familiar?' Bolt asked him.
'He doesn't,' answered Mr Crabbe, 'but she does. We've seen
her at Jack's place several times, although we don't know who
she is. I do know that the police who were speaking to us earlier
want to find her, though.'
'Is it her?' demanded Mrs Crabbe, who was leaning across her
husband, still without her glasses.
'Yes, it is.' Mr Crabbe tapped the image of Kathy Meron with
a stubby forefinger. 'This woman was at Jack's today.'
Bolt and Mo exchanged glances, but it was Bolt who spoke.
'What time was this?'
'Well, this is why the other police were so interested. It was
just before all this happened. I was out in the front garden and I
saw her driving past. It was just after lunch, at about half past
one this afternoon.'
So, Kathy Meron must have been one of the last people to see
Jack Calley alive, Bolt thought. Which meant she might well
have seen his killers.
Or, worse, been involved with them.

27

Kathy got to her feet and started to back away from Daniels.
Daniels looked surprised, but made no effort to follow her.
'What's going on, Kathy?' I asked as I watched her retreat.
Her eyes darted down towards the knife, still lying on the
floor where she'd dropped it, then she lunged and picked it up in
one movement. She pointed the blade in Daniels' direction. Her
hand was shaking slightly, but there was a grim determination in
her eyes that I didn't like the look of at all.
'You were there, weren't you?' she hissed, addressing Daniels.
'Where?' he asked, bemused.
'At Jack's house. This afternoon. You were one of the men
who came for him, weren't you?'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Yes, you do.'
'I'm sorry, I think you're mistaking me for someone else.'
'Don't patronize me. I don't make mistakes like that.'
'What is this, Kathy? How do you know he was at Jack
Calley's today?'
'You know how I know?' she said. The question was directed

at Daniels rather than me. She had the knife raised so that the
blade was pointed directly at his throat. Three feet separated
skin from steel. 'I didn't see you, because if I'd seen you I'd be
dead now too, wouldn't I? I heard you. I heard you all, and I
recognize your voice.'
A thin smile crossed her face as she spoke, but at the same
time her expression hardened. In those moments, she didn't look
like my wife at all. Even then, however, I still didn't quite make
the connection, my excuse being the number of shocks I'd had
that day.
'What were you doing at Jack's, Kathy? We haven't seen him
in four years.'
'All right, all right,' said Daniels, stepping back and raising his
hands in supplication. 'I think we may be starting off on the
wrong foot here.' As quick as a flash, his hand went inside his
leather jacket and the next second he was pointing the gun at
Kathy.
'Daniels, for Christ's sake, don't shoot. She's my wife.'
He ignored me and released the safety catch. 'Right, let's start
again. Put the knife down, Mrs Meron.'
Kathy made no move to obey. 'You killed Jack, you bastard,
I'm going to make you pay for that.'
This was the moment when I finally realized the inevitable.
Some might say a little belatedly. I might not have seen Jack for
some years, but it was becoming clear that Kathy had been
pursuing the friendship on behalf «f both of us. I think deep down
I'd known for a while she was having an affair. Her working hours
had got longer, there were weekends away at conferences, there'd
been changes in her behaviour. She'd started wearing perfume
again, buying expensive underwear. But when the signs are there
you don't want to admit it to yourself. You make excuses,

rationalize things. That was why hearing the admission from her
mouth now was like a hammer blow to the gut.
Jack. I felt dizzy. The fucking bastard.
'This isn't what you think, Mrs Meron. Now, please put the
knife down, and let's talk.'
'What do you mean, it isn't what I'm thinking? I heard you
torturing him on the bed.'
'I didn't touch him. I was there, but I promise you, I didn't
touch him.'
'You lied to me,' I said.
The statement was aimed at Daniels, but it was Kathy who
answered, although as she spoke, she kept her eyes firmly on him.
'I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't mean you to find out this way.'
'Why?' I asked, and this time it was to her, although there
were probably plenty of answers to that question.
'I can't talk about it now.'
'Put the knife down, Mrs Meron.'
Kathy gave a barely perceptible shake of the head, her expression
hardening. 'No.'
Daniels came forward fast, grabbing her wrist and twisting it
violently. He smacked the gun barrel down on her exposed
forearm and she let out a yelp and dropped the weapon. Shoving
her backwards, he picked it up from the floor and flung it into
the corner of the room, a long way from any of us. All this
before I even had a chance to react.
For a second, Kathy looked like she was going to burst into
tears, but she quickly controlled herself. I went over and hugged
her, still feeling the pain in my stomach from the knowledge that
she no longer loved me in the way I loved her. She buried her
head in my chest, the warmth of her body comforting against my
skin.

I glared at Daniels. 'So, you were at Jack's house?'
He nodded. 'Yeah, I was. I couldn't tell you before because
you'd never have trusted me.'
I looked at the gun, which was still pointed in our direction.
'So, you're not a cop?'
'I am a cop. I didn't lie about that.'
Kathy broke away from me. 'You can't be. The police don't
do that sort of thing.'
'I'm undercover,' he told her.
He briefly explained what he'd told me, and Kathy listened
without interrupting. As he spoke he lowered the gun. 'We got a
call this afternoon from Lench. Me and Mantani were to go with
him over to a guy named Jack Calley's house, and we were to
dress in suits and make sure we wore gloves. While we were
driving, Lench told us that Calley had some information that we
had to get from him. He wouldn't say what it was. When we
arrived, Mantani asked him what we were going to do with
Calley once we got the information, and Lench said we were
going to kill him and make it look like suicide. Apparently,
that's one of Lench's specialities.
'Anyway, Mantani and I knocked on the door while Lench
waited round the corner. Because we were dressed in suits, we
looked pretty normal, so I guess Calley wasn't suspicious. When
he answered, Mantani gave him a shot of pepper spray and the
three of us forced our way inside. We dragged Calley upstairs
and tied him to the bed. He was coughing and choking and
telling us that we could take whatever we wanted but to please
leave him alone. He was really scared. Lench stuffed a golfball in
his mouth, then sat on his legs and put a lighter to his balls.
'Then he took out the golfball and said, "Where is it? We
know,you've got it." Calley was screaming and saying he didn't

know what the hell it was Lench was talking about, so Lench
started burning him again, for longer this time. Then he asked
Calley who he'd been blabbing to. He didn't say what about, but
I got the feeling Calley knew what he was talking about.
'But he wasn't talking, so Lench put the golfball back in his
mouth and told him he had five minutes to think things over,
and then we were really going to get started on him. He went
downstairs, and I went with him. We left Mantani on guard duty.
When we were down in the kitchen, Lench put the kettle on and
then came right up and looked me in the eye. He told me that to
prove myself to him I was going to have to take the kettle up
to the bedroom and pour the contents over Calley's face and
body, before we even tried to get him to talk again. That way
he'd know we were serious. Lench said he was going to film me
on his phone doing it, so that I'd be completely implicated.
'I knew I was going to have to get the hell out of there, but
before I had a chance to create a distraction I heard shouting
coming from upstairs. That idiot Mantani had gone to take a
piss, leaving Calley on his own, and he'd managed to get free.
The next thing we know, Calley comes flying down the stairs and
charges out the side door, with Mantani hot on his tail. Lench
yelled at me to go and start the car so we could be ready for a
quick getaway, and then he disappeared out the door after
them.'
'I didn't hear him shout that,' said Kathy.
'So you were there?' I asked quietly, and with resignation.
She turned to me and nodded gently. She looked beautiful,
her olive skin unblemished by the tears, her eyes radiating a
warmth and intelligence that made her betrayal so much harder
to accept. She was a good person, a fantastic mother. I couldn't
understand how she could have done what she'd done.