The Dead Dog Day (29 page)

‘But that's what's even worse. She was – well, she was nice to me. I know I can be a bitch, but I've never done anything like this before. Not something this bad. You know that, don't you?'

There was desperation in Alice's voice, and Cora clapped her hands over her mouth as a shocking suspicion entered her head. Benjamin raised his eyebrows and nodded as the recording continued.

‘Look, got to go. Talk soon. Sorry to lay all this on you. Bye.'

Benjamin pressed stop. ‘See what I mean? Pretty weird, huh? She's obviously done something majorly bad …'

Cora slumped back on the cushions in disbelief. ‘Bloody hell. Could she – I mean, could she be talking about something as serious as murder? Could she, Benj? Could she have killed Jeanette? Seriously?'

Benjamin shrugged. ‘Can't really imagine it. Can you, honestly? But – well, I don't really know her, babe. You work with her. What do you think? Something's happened though, that's for sure.'

Cora felt slightly sick. She thought for a moment. Horrifically, it did sort of make sense.

‘That bit about someone being nice to her. Jeanette
was
nice to her – about the only person she was nice to – and Alice was nice back. They seemed to get on, for some reason. But no – hang on. Why would she kill the only person who was actually on her side? She wouldn't, would she? Unless they'd fallen out or something? Oh, I don't understand. And what should we do? Anything?'

Benjamin took her hand. ‘I'm not sure. Tell your copper friend, see what he thinks? I'll make a copy of the recording for you. Then at least you'll have done your bit, even if it comes to nothing.'

Cora nodded. ‘Yes, I'll do that. It'll just prey on my mind if I don't. Thanks, darling.'

Prey on my mind like withholding the information about Justin lurking outside the building does, she thought guiltily. But she was still sure there was a rational explanation for that, whereas this Alice thing – this felt different, somehow.

‘OK, I'll run off a copy onto a memory stick now. Then – nice glass of white?'

‘Definitely!' Cora perked up instantly. Nothing like a crisp Pinot Grigio to instantly improve an evening!

The next morning she was regretting the crisp Pinot slightly as she waited for Adam to appear so she could hand over the recording. She perched gingerly on the edge of a hard and not altogether clean chair in the police station reception and massaged her throbbing temples, thinking enviously of Benjamin who was off today and, no doubt, still sprawled under his fluffy duvet.

Still, it had been worth it. A soppy smile crept over her face as she recalled the events of the previous night. One bottle of wine had turned into two, the second of which had been sipped in bed between no fewer than three sessions of rather delightful sex. Benjamin had been extra loving and tender for some reason, and she'd found herself falling for him all over again. He really was so damn …

‘What's got you so smug-looking this morning then?'

Adam's amused voice interrupted her reverie. Cora jumped. He seemed to have materialised out of nowhere and was standing right in front of her, grinning down at her surprised face.

‘Oh, nothing,' she muttered, feeling slightly flustered. ‘Er, look – here it is. It could be absolutely nothing, and I feel a bit bad for even doing this to her, but it's just a bit eerie, you know, after what we overheard in the café.'

She stood up and thrust the memory stick into his outstretched hand, still a little embarrassed.

‘No, you've done the right thing, thanks, Cora. We'll have a listen, see what we think. Thank you.'

He paused. ‘Everything good in your world, then?'

Cora, rapidly regaining her composure, smiled. ‘Everything's great, thanks. Fine and dandy! So – well, keep me posted, yes?'

‘Always. Well, as far as I can, anyway,' Adam smiled back. ‘See you soon.'

‘Bye.' Cora watched for a moment as his broad back disappeared behind the counter and out of sight, then glanced at her watch. Bugger. She was supposed to be filming in Reading at 10 a.m. and she was running extremely late. Rummaging in her bag for some headache pills as she went, she walked quickly to her car.

43

Friday 6
^th
April

‘OK, if they don't come to us RIGHT NOW I am walking away, live or no live,' hissed Rodney viciously.

Helpless with laughter, Cora wiped tears from her cheeks, while behind the camera Nathan's face was puce, his shoulders shaking with suppressed howls. In Cora's ear, she heard the director's voice:

‘I don't know what the hell is wrong with you there on the South Bank, Cora, but pull yourself together. With you in twenty seconds. Think you can manage that?' he spat, sarcastically.

Not trusting herself to speak, Cora nodded furiously, trying not to look at the boys. In particular, she tried very hard to avert her eyes from Rodney, the subject of their uncontrollable giggles, but she couldn't help it. She glanced at him again and once more subsided into hysteria. Nathan managed to last another three seconds and then joined her, clutching his stomach and guffawing.

Rodney glared at them both, stinking white and green seagull droppings gently running down his forehead from his hair, where they had landed a minute before. Hands full of sound equipment and mere seconds from broadcasting live to the nation, there'd been absolutely nothing he could do to clean himself up.

‘Shut up, idiots,' he hissed again. ‘Get a grip, Cora. You're on any second now …'

With a valiant effort, Cora composed her face and stared resolutely into the camera lens. Behind it, she could see Nathan with his fist in his mouth, tears rolling down his cheeks.

‘Nathan, please,' she begged, biting the inside of her lip in an effort to curb a fresh wave of mirth.

‘Sorry,' he squeaked, and stuffed his fist back into his mouth.

‘And Cora joins us now from the South Bank. So Cora, what's happening?' Alice's perky morning voice filled her ear, and Cora took a deep breath, digging her nails painfully into her palm as out of the corner of her eye she saw the slime sliding down towards Rodney's eye. He blinked furiously.

‘Well, Alice …' With an almost super-human effort, Cora launched smoothly into her broadcast. Thank goodness it was Friday. Rodney would need a couple of days to wash that smell off.

‘We questioned Alice Lomas for nearly three hours last night. Kept it discreet, didn't arrest her or anything, just asked her to come in for a chat. She was very reluctant, but once we got going she was pretty open with us, and well – there was just nothing there. No motive, claims she got on very well with the deceased and had no reason at all to want her dead. And of course, we have no forensics anyway. To be honest, she put on a fairly convincing display of innocence. She was pretty horrified and angry about that telephone recording – we didn't tell her where it had come from, by the way, although it seemed she instantly assumed it had been made by that blonde ex-model who's now a sports presenter? Agnes somebody? She was on the shoot that day too, and apparently there's no love lost …'

‘They can't stand each other. Had an actual cat-fight in a nightclub a while back,' confirmed one of the younger detectives, who spent rather a lot of her spare time reading the showbiz gossip mags.

Adam nodded. ‘Anyway, Lomas flatly denied the phone call we had on tape was anything to do with murder, insisted it was just about a silly row with a friend that she's feeling guilty about. And we can't prove otherwise. If she's our killer, she's doing a damn good job of hiding it.'

Adam looked round the room, and sighed. Everyone in the now seriously depleted team looked like he felt – seriously fed up. Normally a cheerful sort, he was becoming heartily sick of feeling like this, but there was nothing he could do about it – he knew from experience that the only cure for his blues would be cracking this case. Maybe cleaning up the incident room would help clear his mind. The big table was covered with the detritus of an early breakfast meeting, takeaway coffee cups jostling for space with bacon sandwich wrappers, half-empty instant porridge pots and a couple of browning banana skins. Adam poked at his barely touched sausage bap for a minute, then stood up.

‘I'm not giving up on this one. We're going to tidy this place up, and then we're going to keep digging. We're nailing this bastard if it's the last thing we do. Right?'

The response echoed around the room. ‘Right!'

‘She's in the toilets now, throwing up. Ugh. Don't go in there, it's revolting.'

Christina gave an exaggerated shudder, grinned at Cora and walked off, staggering slightly under the weight of an enormous, wobbly pile of scripts topped with a large wooden cactus that had been a prop on that morning's show.

Cora, who'd popped in to the studio after her broadcasts to collect her post and have a quick gossip in the make-up room, swung round in her chair and looked expectantly at Sherry.

‘Throwing up? Alice? In the
morning
? Now that's very interesting, isn't it, young Sherry? Go on – spill!'

Sherry looked coy.

‘And what makes you think I have anything
to
spill?'

‘Sherry, you're her make-up artist. You know everything.'

Sherry smirked and busied herself with her big, black holdall, tidying away brushes and bottles into their neat compartments. Cora continued to stare at her, moving closer and closer until her nose was almost touching her friend's ear.

‘Spill, spill, spill,' she chanted.

‘Och for goodness' sake!' Sherry batted her away and giggled. ‘OK – look, you cannot breathe a
word
, alright?'

‘Deal.'

‘Right then. Well – yes, you've guessed it, she's preggers. Only a few weeks, she says. And before you ask, no I don't know who the father is. All I know is she hasn't told him yet, not sure how he'll react, so I'm guessing it's not very serious.'

Cora was wide-eyed. ‘Wow. So – is she keeping it? Surely she won't want a baby scuppering her career? Has she even got a maternal bone in her body?'

‘Ah come on, Cora, she's not that bad.'

Cora snorted. Sherry ignored her and continued. ‘She's just insecure, seriously. And she's been very upset recently, what with Jeanette's death, and now being questioned by the police, even though she's obviously got nothing to do with it …'

Cora nodded slowly, but said nothing. It seemed that Alice was in the clear for now, but she wasn't convinced. That phone call had been so very odd.

‘… she didn't have much of a family life growing up, from what I gather. So I think, from the little she's said to me, that yes, she will be keeping it. Start a little family of her own, with or without the father, whoever he is. Now – shove off, I need to run the vacuum round, had to cut Kerry Katona's fringe this morning when she came in and there's hair everywhere.'

‘OK. Thanks for the gossip, see you soon.'

Cora wandered slowly out of the room, mind racing. So Alice was pregnant! Which meant maternity leave, which meant Cora would surely have a very good chance of covering it, which would mean a stint in London, which would mean being closer to Benjamin, and her London friends …

Suddenly excited, she hugged herself and skipped off to share the news with Sam and Wendy. Then she stopped. Hmmm. Sherry had said not to breathe a word. Alright, I'll be good. Keep it to myself for now. It won't be a secret for long anyway, thought Cora.

44

Saturday 7
^th
April

Benjamin cupped his large glass of red wine between tanned hands and gazed at Cora who sat opposite him, engrossed in conversation with Wendy. She looked gorgeous tonight, he thought, taking in the glossy swing of her hair and the gentle curves of her body under the simple navy dress with an enticing gold zip that ran all the way down the front.

It was lovely to be out in the A-Bar, the place they'd first met, with her and her friends – he liked them a lot, appreciating the way they now treated him as a completely normal person and not as a celebrity. He sipped his wine as the conversation buzzed around him. Sam, who was sitting to his right, leaned across the table to hear better as Wendy imparted some scandalous gossip about a new producer in a loud whisper, and Benjamin tried to listen in for a minute and then lost interest and sat back, grinning at their animated faces.

He took another mouthful of wine, suddenly feeling desperately sad and disgusted with himself. He loved Cora, so why had he slept with someone else? He had a problem, he knew that. But he could stop it, he knew he could. He wouldn't do it again. Because he knew Cora's views on being cheated on, and they weren't pretty. If she found out what he'd done, he'd lose her, and that wasn't something he was prepared to do. So, he vowed, still watching her beautiful face across the table, that the next time he was tempted he'd remind himself of what he was risking, and that would stop him being so bloody stupid. This was it. Cora Baxter was it.

As if she could read his mind, Cora suddenly glanced his way and squeezed his knee under the table. He reached down and stroked her hand, and she smiled happily and returned to her conversation. Benjamin tuned in again, suddenly aware they were discussing Jeanette Kendrick's murder.

‘So it seems Alice isn't the killer either. Who the heck is it, then?' Sam was saying. ‘Not Alice, not Christina, not Clancy, not Scott. It does freak me out a bit, you know, thinking that there must be a murderer walking amongst us and none of us have any idea who it is.'

Cora shuddered. It was something which preyed on her mind frequently too. ‘From what I gather from the police though, the enquiry's virtually over. Every lead they've had has been a dead end. I don't know if they're giving up, exactly, but they're struggling. Who on earth could it be?'