Dead Gorgeous (A Mystery for D.I. Costello) (5 page)

They waited until the undertaker’s men had gone into Kirsty’s room before slipping out to the car. Within ten minutes they were settling down to open the case in the privacy of their own incident room.

A couple of hours later the car, now containing just Gary and Angela, drew up in front of Angela’s home. “Thanks, Gary,” said Angela, gathering up her handbag.

“Could I just use your loo, please?” asked Gary.

“Sure, no problem,” she replied. “Come on in.” She pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and went into the living room. Patrick looked up at her with a smile. He knew she didn’t like to launch straight into shop talk, the minute she got in. Madeleine, not knowing this, had no inhibition about expressing her natural curiosity.

“How was it?” she asked, springing up from the sofa on which she’d been lounging.

Angela grimaced. “Not as bad as some I’ve seen. It looks like it might have been quick and clean but we’ll know more after the post-mortem.”

“Will you have to go and watch?”

“Yes, probably, unless D.C.I. Stanway chooses to go.”

“What exactly do they do at a post-mortem?”

“Mads, darling,” began Patrick with a note of caution in his voice. Just at that moment the attention of all three was arrested by the appearance of Gary in the doorway.

He blushed slightly at the sight of three pairs of eyes turned towards him. “Thanks, Angie,” he said.

Angela went over to him. “Gary, I don’t believe you’ve met my family, have you? This is my husband, Patrick, and my stepdaughter, Madeleine.”

Patrick came over and shook Gary’s hand. “Hello. I think you’re fairly new to the CID, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, still wet behind the ears,” grinned Gary.

“Were you involved in that murder at Wimbledon?” asked Madeleine.

“Yes, that was my first case.”

“Were you at that press conference – the one Angie had to make a statement at? That was really cool! I saw it on the telly in the uni bar with a load of my friends and I was telling everybody, ‘That’s my step-ma! That’s my step-ma!’ They were all dead impressed; so was I, to be honest.”

Angela turned to Patrick and mouthed the words, “Step-ma? Impressed?” with a look of wonder on her face.

Patrick grinned and winked at her. “Numpty!” he said quietly.

“I was there,” said Gary, “but not at the press conference. The new boys don’t get to do that sort of thing. Where were you at uni?”

“Brighton.”

“Oh, that was one of my choices! But I ended up in Nottingham.” He looked around at them all. “Well, thanks for the use of the bathroom, Angie. I expect you’re wanting to chill out and have some supper now, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” His glance took in Patrick and Madeleine, lingering infinitesimally longer on Madeleine. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

Angela showed him out and came back into the living room.

“I didn’t know police officers were allowed to be so cute,” said Madeleine.

Eleanor gazed down on Ian’s face as he dozed. She’d done a lot of gazing on this face in the past few weeks. She could still hardly believe the way things had changed between them. She’d loved without hope for so long, she hardly dared imagine really being in a relationship with him; yet here they were. She didn’t lose her grip on reality, though. She, of all people, knew Ian’s history with women. She would just enjoy the moment; that was a strict rule she had set herself.

Ian opened his eyes and she could see he wasn’t immediately aware of his surroundings. She watched as he orientated himself, became aware of her gaze and smiled up at her. “I must have dropped off,” he said.

She ran her hand gently across his forehead. “I like to watch you sleeping.”

He leaned up on one elbow and kissed her lips.

“Who are you meeting later?”

“Oh, just Nigel; we’re getting together for a drink. I know it’s still a way off, but we need to make sure we’ve got our act together for Fashion Week.”

“Oh, am I
not
looking forward to that,” said Eleanor.

Ian grinned across at her. “I am; I’m getting a real buzz from this latest collection.”

“Yes, but the working round the clock, the last-minute panics – all that.”

“It’ll be worth it, Ellie, you’ll see. I expect to be the talk of the entire industry.”

“You’ve certainly been adventurous. I’ve got to hand it to you. Getting away from shop talk, have you heard any more from your little pal?”

“I had a text this morning. Much the same, I’m afraid. Still in love with me and wants me back. Who knows how long this pining will last?”

“I think you’ve got her all wrong, Ian. I don’t think she’s pining at all. That is one very hard-nosed young woman, and it’s my guess that all this ‘pining’, as you call it, is part of an act. She likes the idea of going out with a rich and famous boyfriend. She wants that lifestyle.”

Ian smiled. “No flies on you, are there, Ellie? OK, the truth. I know she’s a pushy, ambitious little cow and I know what she’s after. The thing is, I’m keeping her sweet until I can be sure she hasn’t got hold of any of my designs and might leak them.”

Eleanor’s opened her eyes wide. “Wow! Are you sure?”

“Well, that’s just it, I’m not. I know she got at my laptop a couple of times, visiting my pad. She said she was just catching up on Facebook and Twitter but… I don’t know. And I need to be sure.”

“Of course you do. Do you think she
would
leak them?”

“Not while she thinks she can get me back. She called me this morning and I pretended I was a bit annoyed about her calling me at home, which isn’t part of our agreement. But I’ll let her think I’m changing my mind about breaking up with her and engineer a visit to her flat. Then I can make sure that, somehow, I get a good look at her laptop and wherever else she might have kept anything like that.”

“That’s more cunning than I would have given her credit for. She’s been no end of a nuisance to me at work. I wish she’d just settle for Darren.”

“I’m not sure what’s happening there. That’s what some of her texts have been about, actually. She did drop him but, apparently, he’s now going out with her flatmate, which I suppose means he’s still coming round to her place. To be
honest I got the impression she was a bit frightened of him.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, the size of him. He’s a brooder, is Darren – the type to suddenly explode. Mind you, a bit of fear might be good for her; she’s so cocksure of herself.”

Ian grinned as he picked up his trousers from the chair where he’d draped them. “No prizes for guessing she’s got up your nose!” He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and punched some of the buttons. “Just checking with Nigel; he wasn’t sure what time he could meet me.” He put the phone on speaker and laid it on the bed while he stood up and put on the robe that Eleanor had provided for his use. His call was answered on the fourth ring.

“Nigel Summers.”

“Oh, hi, Nigel,” replied Ian. He switched off the speaker and picked up the phone. “Yes… yes, you weren’t sure… seven-thirty? No problem, Nigel, I’ll see you there.” He finished the call and smiled at her. “Look, Ellie, I’d better take a quick shower and dash, I’m afraid.”

“No probs.” Eleanor’s eyes devoured Ian as he moved gracefully along the passage and disappeared into the bathroom. She still couldn’t entirely get over this – as though she’d wake up and find it had all just been a beautiful dream. She was having an affair with Ian. Who would have thought it?

Well, she knew who wouldn’t.

Mother; that was who.

In the neat and tidy living room of a small flat in Wandsworth, Darren Carpenter and Sandra Hodges sat close together on a sofa, conferring over mugs of coffee. Darren was having trouble coming to terms with the facts.

“It… seems really weird.” He stared into the middle distance. “To think that she won’t be in work tomorrow, that she won’t come to the gym again. She won’t do anything
again. I know we were having problems in our…” He glanced quickly at Sandra. “I know we were splitting up.” He tightened his grip on his mug as if to warm his hands.

Sandra stifled a sense of impatience. “You’d already split up, remember, Daz. I mean – you know – how we’ve been together the last few weeks, and all that. I told that policewoman you’re my boyfriend.”

Darren’s eyes flicked towards her again and he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

“What?” she asked.

“What did she ask you?”

“Just about what I saw when I came home, how I found the… you know… Kirsty.” Sandra thought it best to subject her conversation with Angela to a heavy edit.

“Still can’t take it in, really,” he said. “I…” He stopped. Just for a second she thought she saw a secretive look behind his eyes.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, I’m still coming to terms with the news… bastard!”

“Daz?” Sandra looked at him, puzzled, then her eyes widened. “Do you know something?”

He glanced briefly at her and away. “Nah, course not. What would I know? I’d just like to get my hands on the bastard, that’s all. To think that while I was working out someone was – doing that.”

Sandra repressed another impulse to give way to impatience. When
wasn’t
he working out? “Yeah, I do know that, Daz. I mean, they’re going to find out you were her boyfriend until recently, and they’re naturally going to ask questions about how you got on. They’ll be looking for someone with a motive. They might think, you know, as you’d split up…”

Darren roused himself then; he put his mug on the small table in front of them and sat up straighter. “I’ll soon put them right,” he said, with more energy than he’d shown since she’d arrived. “They won’t be able to pin anything on me!”

Now it was a sigh that Sandra stifled. All she really wanted was for Darren to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right, they would get through this together. Inwardly she admonished herself. There were all sorts of different reactions to grief and shock; it was only fair that Darren be allowed to deal with the situation in his own way.

Not until nine had Sandra risked escaping in search of Darren; she had to be the one to tell him. Mel and Jon were concerned about her going out on her own so soon after such a nasty event, and for a moment, it looked as though Jon would insist on coming with her. She managed to reassure them she would be OK, though, and she’d be back soon.

Sandra put aside her personal frustration at Darren’s response. Right now they had practical matters to deal with. “You’re going to hear about all this tomorrow,” she said. “And when you do, act surprised.”

Darren looked at her and furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Because it probably won’t look good if you’re seen to know already. If it comes out that I’ve been round here discussing the case with you, it might seem like we’re… you know…”

“No. What?”

She fought against exasperation. “It might seem as though we’ve met up to, well, to get our stories straight.”

Darren set his mouth in the stubborn way that Sandra didn’t like. “I ain’t got no story,” he said, thrusting out his chin. “I was at the gym all afternoon and that’s all there is to it. And you came round here to break the news to me. That’s only natural, it’s no secret.”

“OK, you’re right,” said Sandra in her most encouraging voice. “I wasn’t thinking straight. That’s all you’ve got to say. I really wasn’t thinking, it must be the shock.”

“Yeah, well that’s understandable, really.” He gave her a smile, which was probably meant to show understanding, but he made no accompanying attempt to put his arms around her and comfort her.

As she made her way back to Mel and Jon’s, Sandra found herself going over the events of the day. That little secretive look he’d given continued to puzzle her, because it was unlike him. What you saw was what you generally got, with Darren. And then there was the business of the bike. She didn’t want to contemplate this, really, but Sandra hadn’t ever been one to duck difficulties. Somebody had definitely moved that bike.

Ian King put one whisky and soda and one gin and tonic on the table, and sat down beside Nigel Summers. Both men sat in silence for a few moments, gazing out from the Richmond pub garden across the paved area separated only by a low wall from the riverside embankment thronged with people, all out enjoying a drink in the evening sunshine. “Nice place,” remarked Ian, as he contemplated the scene.

“Isn’t it, though?” replied Nigel. “I often come here of an evening, especially at this time of the year.” He cast a sidelong glance at his companion. “I meant to ask; I haven’t heard you mention her for about a month, so I presume you’ve sorted out your love life.”

Ian smiled across the top of his glass. “That’s a very discreet way of putting things.”

Nigel grinned. “OK, I heard you had a thing going with Ellie, so I stepped back in amazement, gasped and said, ‘What? Are you sure? Oh. OK, then.’”

Ian laughed. “Ellie’s all right, she doesn’t make any demands,
she has no agenda and she’s got a darn sight more conversation than Kirsty will ever have. But…”

“Oh? What’s the ‘but’?”

“I’m not quite free of Kirsty. She’s always on the phone or texting me. She thinks she can win me back. And she’s being really horrible to Ellie.”

“You’re not putting up with that, surely?”

“Only until I’m sure she’s no threat to the new collection.”

“
What?
” Nigel’s eyes opened wide.

“Mmm. I think she managed to get into my programme and transfer some of the original sketches to her own laptop. She hasn’t come right out and said so, but she’s made one or two comments about the new designs, betraying suspiciously more knowledge than she should have. I’m going to soften her up and take a look. Then it’ll be goodbye, Kirsty.”

“I told you she showed too much interest in things that are no concern of hers, didn’t I? Once you’re satisfied about the safety of the collection, you want to get that girl completely off the payroll!”

“How nice to be in agreement with one’s business partner,” said Ian.

The two men chinked their glasses.