Page 41 of The Murder List
‘Well, as Mary said, she doesn’t mind at all,’ she said. ‘Life’s short, my darling. If two people are meant to be together, why waste time being apart? Come here, you gorgeous creature!’
She leapt from her stool and skipped over to him, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him, her body pressed against his. He kissed her back, but I still thought he looked a little uncomfortable. We haven’t discussed it, but I’m pretty sure he’s not quite at the stage where he wants to make Megan a permanent fixture in his home, and that makes me happy. IneedPete, need him to have a little bit more time for me, just while this is all going on anyway. Afterwards … well, who knows?
Now, on this Monday morning, I’m browsing the news websites, looking for updates on some of the cases I’ve been half-heartedly following for potential future articles, and trying to avoid catching Edward’s eye. Although Jess, to my immense relief, told me that the police are certain that he and Satish had no connection to the Oxford murder, that the two of them and their movements that night have been thoroughly checked out with no resultant cause for concern, I still feel uncomfortable around them, as well as a little guilty for putting them through what now feels like totally unnecessary police questioning.
Edward confronted me about it, of course. I knew he would, despite DCI Warden’s assertion that she would come up with some cover story that wouldn’t implicate me. The very next time we were in the office together he was there, hovering over me at my desk, a suspicious look on his bony face.
‘Did you tell the police that Satish and I spent New Year’s Eve in Oxford?’ he said.
No preamble, just come straight out with it, why don’t you?I thought.
I looked up at him wide-eyed, feigning surprise.
‘What? Of course I didn’t!’ I said. ‘Why on earth would I do that? Why are you asking?’
He stared at me for a few moments, and I thought he looked a little upset suddenly, a sad expression in his dark eyes.
‘Well, you’ve been looking into the case of that lawyer’s murder, haven’t you? I’ve seen you. And I told you we’d been there for New Year, and the next thing the police are here in reception. Seems a bit of a coincidence.’
I sighed theatrically.
‘Well, that was absolutely nothing to do with me, I can assure you. It’s a major murder investigation, Edward. They’re probably questioning hundreds of men who were in the city that night. They have loads of ways of tracking people down. Sorry, was there anything else? Because I’m a bit busy …’
I turned away, tapping on my computer keyboard, and he stood there for another few seconds, then grunted and walked away. When I turned around a minute later I saw, as I knew I would, him and Satish conversing in low voices, eyes flitting in my direction. But since then, neither of them has mentioned it, and Satish even brought me a chocolate éclair back from the bakery when he did a cake run on Friday afternoon, depositing it on my desk with a friendly smile, so I’m trying hard to forget my suspicions, unfounded as they clearly are.
I’m planning to drive to Birmingham tomorrow; I need to get another interview in the bag for the Diary Killer piece and I’ve managed to fix a chat with a woman called Stella Clayforth, who’s one of Jane Holland’s cousins. We’re meeting at Topaz Casino at midday, and although I’ve pretty much given up on finding any new connection between me and the other victims at this point, I need to carry on with this anyway. Time is ticking; the promised murder in Cardiff just – I look at the calendar sitting on my desk – two weeks away now. I swallow hard.
And then a month after that …
‘Mary! Fancy a drink after work? I’m celebrating. Bloody Valentine’s Day behind us at last! I know it’s only Monday, but to hell with it. I need to get drunk. Are you up for it?’
Eleanor has suddenly appeared next to my desk, smiling broadly. She’s wearing a cobalt-blue roll-neck jumper, which makes a wonderful contrast to the rich red of her hair, piled on top of her head today. I smile back at her, trying to quell my rising anxiety.
‘Do you know what? That sounds like a plan, Ellie,’ I say. ‘I mean, maybe not the getting drunk bit. I have a job in Birmingham tomorrow and I need to be in decent shape for it. But I’m definitely up for a couple of drinks later. Shall we bunk off early and go out around four?’
She grins.
‘Perfect. I’ll see you then. Laters!’
She winks, and races off, and I take a deep breath.
I need a little bit of normality. A few drinks with Ellie will be lovely, I think.A couple of hours to forget about all this and have a bit of fun. I don’t have to make any decisions yet, after all, do I? About anything. I still have time.
And yet even as I tell myself that, the little voice in my head, the voice that’s becoming louder and more insistent with each passing day, is repeating itself, over and over.
But you already know what you have to do, don’t you. it’s saying.
You know something he doesn’t know. You know something nobody knows. And there’s only one way you just might get yourself out of this. Might save yourself from this killer. You’re going to have to tell him, aren’t you?