The Retribution (17 page)
Even with their helmets off, Jamie and Tara were eerily
similar. Both tall, broad in the shoulder and narrow in the hips, blonde hair tousled and shining, long narrow faces and pointed chins. At first glance, they looked more like brother and sister than lovers. It took closer inspection to reveal key differences. Tara had brown eyes, Jamie blue. Her hair was longer and finer, her cheekbones higher and broader, her mouth wider and fuller. Siobhan introduced everyone, and they all crammed round the small kitchen table. Jamie seemed more concerned for Tara than devastated by the news about Leanne. Of the three of them, Tara seemed most affected. Her eyes were sparkling with tears, and she kept raising her hand to her mouth and biting down on her knuckle as Kevin shared as little information as possible about Leanne’s death.
Once everyone was settled, this time Kevin took the lead. ‘Obviously in a murder investigation, the first thing we need to establish is the movements of the victim. We believe Leanne died the evening before last. So, can you remember when you saw her last on Tuesday?’
They looked at each other for inspiration. It was hard to say whether they were struggling to remember or making some kind of tacit agreement. But what they had to say showed little sign of collusion. Siobhan had seen Leanne at lunchtime – they’d shared a special-fried rice past its sell-by date that Siobhan had brought home from work. Siobhan had spent the afternoon teaching a seminar. Then she’d gone to work till 11 p.m. Jamie had been working at home before leaving at half past five to walk to the local pub, where he’d been working till midnight. Leanne had still been in the house then. Struggling to keep her tears at bay, Tara explained that she’d spent the afternoon working in the local call centre, where she did six shifts a week. By the time she’d returned at seven, Leanne had left the house. Three friends had come round with pizza just after eight and the four of them had played bridge until Jamie came home. Perfectly shaped alibis that would all
have to be checked, but which contained nothing even slightly suspicious. No shifty eye movements, no bad body language, no hesitation in providing names and contact numbers.
So that wasn’t what Siobhan was uneasy about.
‘I’m amazed you find time to study,’ Kevin said conversationally. ‘I see my kids growing up, and it scares me, how hard it’s going to be for them to get through university.’
Jamie gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘It’s a complete nightmare. But what can you do? Like my father says, “Life’s a bitch.” Our generation’s learning that lesson a bit earlier, that’s all.’
Kevin leaned forward, trying to draw them into a conspiratorial huddle. ‘So what did Leanne do to make ends meet?’
Sam hadn’t been wrong in thinking Siobhan didn’t want to go there. Now it appeared that the other two housemates were equally reluctant. ‘I’m not sure,’ Jamie said, his eyes on his tea.
‘We didn’t really discuss it,’ Tara said, her voice shaky and her expression hopeful. There was clearly something more significant than regret going on now.
Sam pushed his chair back, deliberately disrupting the group. ‘That’s the biggest load of bollocks I’ve heard in a long time. And believe me, I spend my life listening to criminals shooting me a line.’ Seeing their shocked expressions, he pressed on. ‘You live in a shared house with a woman for a year and a half, and you don’t know what she does to pay the bills? That is crap.’
Jamie straightened his shoulders. ‘You’ve got no right to talk to us like that. We’ve just lost a very dear friend and we’re in shock. If my father—’
‘Spare me,’ Sam said sarcastically. ‘Your friend has just been murdered. Brutally murdered. I didn’t know her, but I saw what he did to her and I am bloody determined to catch him and put him away. Now, if that doesn’t matter to you, just say.’ He twisted his mouth in a ‘please yourself’ expression. ‘Cases
like this, the media love to find someone to beat up while they’re waiting for us to make an arrest.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Jamie said, trying to sound tough and failing.
‘We’re only trying to protect her memory,’ Siobhan blurted. The other two glared at her. ‘It’s going to come out sooner or later, guys,’ she said, shooting for pathos and hitting the bullseye. ‘It’s better if we just tell them and get it over with.’
‘She did exotic dancing,’ Tara said flatly.
‘And the rest,’ Jamie added. His attempt to appear a man of the world didn’t even get out of the starting blocks.
‘How do you know that, Jamie?’ Kevin said pleasantly. ‘Were you a customer?’
‘Don’t be disgusting,’ Tara said. ‘We all know because she told us. We knew she was working in a lap-dancing club up near the airport. At first, she tried to make out she was just working behind the bar, but it was obvious that she had a lot more cash than you earn pulling pints. We were all a bit pissed one night and I asked her straight out if she was … you know, taking her clothes off for men. She said she did lap dancing and admitted that she had sex with some of the men. Off the premises, she said. She’d meet them after work and do them in their cars.’ Tara’s lip curled involuntarily at the thought.
‘That must have been a shock for you all,’ Kevin said gently.
Jamie breathed heavily, puffing out his lips. ‘No kidding! Nobody imagines ending up sharing a house with a hooker.’
‘Sex worker,’ Siobhan corrected him primly. ‘It was Leanne’s choice – and you could never accuse her of bringing her work home. If she hadn’t told us the kind of bar she was working in, we’d never have known, not from anything she said or did round the house. After the shock passed, we all kind of ignored it. It just didn’t come up. It’s like I said. We all got along together but we weren’t really close. We had our own lives, our own friends.’
‘She once said she never met any men,’ Siobhan said. ‘I know that sounds weird, but she said the men at work were losers and tossers. We were talking about how hard it is to find the time to meet anyone, never mind invest in a relationship, and she said she couldn’t remember the last time she’d met a bloke she even wanted to have a drink with.’
Another dead end. ‘What was the name of the club where she worked?’ Kevin asked.
They all looked nonplussed. ‘I never asked,’ Tara said. ‘It’s not like we were going to turn up for a drink.’
‘What about you, Jamie? It’s the sort of thing a bloke might be more interested in,’ Sam said.
‘Don’t judge me by your standards,’ Jamie said, a sneer on his face and in his voice.
A low chuckle from Sam. ‘I wasn’t. That’s why I thought you might know. Tara, you said it was up by the airport. Can you remember how you know that?’
Tara frowned and rubbed the side of her cheek with her finger. After a few moments when everyone waited expectantly, she said, ‘She asked me if I knew whether there was any bike parking at the airport. She’d got a cheap flight to Madrid, but it was a really early checkin. She said she’d be as well going from work, because it would only take her fifteen minutes to cycle there.’ When she smiled, Sam could see what Jamie saw in her. Her whole face lightened and she gave the first indication so far that she might be fun. ‘So she must only have been a couple of miles away, tops.’
‘Thank you, we’ll check that out. Is there anyone else you can think of that Leanne was particularly friendly with? One of her fellow Spanish postgrads? Any of the lecturers?’
They exchanged looks again. ‘She was sociable enough, but
she didn’t have much free time. Like all of us,’ Tara said ruefully. ‘I can’t think of anyone in particular, but she did a lot of Facebooking. She had a lot of mates in Spain.’
‘I know her password,’ Siobhan said. ‘One time when she was in Spain, she couldn’t get online and she texted me to post something on her Facebook page. It was LCQuixote.’
‘Can you write that down for me?’ Sam slipped his notebook across the table. ‘We could do with some photos too, if you’ve got any?’
Jamie stood up. ‘I’ve got some on the computer. I could print you off a few?’ He returned a few minutes later with a handful of prints on A4 paper. One showed Leanne in a strappy sparkly top raising a glass to the camera, head back and laughing. The ruck of people in the background looked like a party in full swing. Jamie pointed to it. ‘I had a birthday party last year, here in the house.’ There were a couple obviously taken in the kitchen where she was wearing a baggy T-shirt and jeans, leaning against the fridge. In one of them, she was sticking her tongue out at the photographer. The last one showed her standing by her bike, helmet in hand, hair loose, grinning. ‘This one was taken a couple of weeks ago,’ he said. ‘She’d just got back from the library. I was trying out the camera on my new phone. Will these do?’
Kevin nodded. ‘It would be helpful if you could email them to us.’ He was pretty sure they’d got as much as they were going to get from the housemates, so he took out his cards and handed them round. ‘My email address is on there. We’re probably going to have to talk to you again,’ he said. ‘But in the meantime, if anything occurs to you, call us.’ He wasn’t going to hold his breath.
Outside, as they walked back to the car, Sam chuckled. ‘What’s so funny?’ Kevin said.
‘Just thinking how well DI Spencer’s bunch of wankers would have handled that interview. Anything out of the
mainstream, like a PhD student hooker, and they’re going to be totally flummoxed.’
Kevin scowled. ‘He’s a complete twat.’
Sam shrugged. ‘He just said out loud what a lot of people think. In a way, I’d rather deal with the likes of Spencer. Better to know where you stand than have to deal with the hypocrites who pretend it makes no odds to them. But deep down, they despise you. You know how I love to dance?’
Kevin knew. It was one of the more surprising things about Sam. It sat awkwardly alongside ruthless ambition and a loyalty that barely went beyond self, but there was no doubting it. ‘Yeah,’ he said, unlocking the car and getting behind the wheel.
Sam settled into the passenger seat, hitching up his trousers to avoid bagging the knees. ‘Occasionally, when I ask a woman to dance, a white woman, she’ll just look me up and down and come straight out with it – “I don’t dance with black guys.” It knocks you back on your heels a bit, because most people just don’t say that kind of thing any more. But that’s fair enough, you know. What pisses me off much more than that is when I ask a white woman to dance and she makes some excuse, like she’s too hot or she’s too tired or she’s waiting for a drink. And then five minutes later, I see her on the floor with some complete muppet. That makes me want to go over and say something so cutting she’ll cry all the way home.’
‘So you’re saying you don’t mind what that bell-end Spencer said?’
Sam stroked his goatee. ‘I mind, but I’m not going to lose sleep over it. And neither should you. Me and my ginger homie, we are going to show them how a murder investigation is run. And that is the best revenge, my friend.’
A long silence. A tightening of lips and shoulders. ‘No, of course they don’t come home with me. But I’m presuming you will be providing cover for Dr Hill? … His house is divided into two flats. He lives upstairs and I live downstairs.’ Tony could imagine how much it was costing Carol to reveal details of her private life to Piers Lambert. ‘Surely the same team is capable of watching two doors in the same building? I thought this was a time of austerity?’ More silence. Carol drummed her fingers on the desk and closed her eyes. ‘Thank you, Mr Lambert.’ And the call was over. ‘Bloody bureaucrats,’ Carol said.
‘Tell me you’ve accepted protection,’ Tony said.
‘I could tell you that, but it would be a lie. Move over, let me get to my filing cabinet,’ Carol said. Tony obediently wheeled himself to one side so she could reach the drawer with the secret stash of vodka. Carol took out a miniature and sloshed it into the cup of coffee she’d walked in with. She sat down on the visitor’s chair and glared at him. ‘What? You
heard what I said. Look out there.’ She gestured at the squad room beyond the blinds. ‘The place is awash with coppers. Vance is not going to get near me while I’m at work.’
‘He got out of a prison without anybody stopping him. And now he seems to have disappeared into thin air. Pretty good for a man with a recognisable face and an artificial arm.’
‘For God’s sake, Tony. Vance is not going to walk in here and murder me. And when I’m at home, the team that are watching you can keep an eye on me too. Now, can we just stop talking about this?’
Tony shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘It’s what I want.’
‘OK.’ He stared at the computer, closing down the windows he’d already minimised when Carol had walked in to take Lambert’s call. The last thing he needed was for her to see what he was working on. ‘I’m going home, then. Piers told me my guardian angels are waiting for me downstairs in reception. So I don’t have to hang around here any longer.’
‘I won’t be much longer, if you want to hang on and come back with me?’
He shook his head, getting to his feet. ‘My car’s here. Plus I’ve got stuff to be getting on with.’
Stuff which will really piss you off.
Taken aback, Carol said, ‘Oh. I thought we could have a chat about the move. My move. I need to figure out what to do about the excess furniture. Because your house is fully furnished and I’ve got one or two things I want to bring with me. My bed, mainly. Because I love that bed.’
Tony smiled. ‘So bring your bed. The one in your room’s a bit of a monstrosity anyway. I can sell it, or give it away, or put it in the garage so there’s something to put back when you’ve had enough of living with me and need to be on your own again.’ He gave her a nervy, anxious look, seeking reassurance.
