Hot to Kill Page 9

  Chapter Twenty

  Thursday

  “So you’re not sure that he’s actually missing then?” Doug Thompson, the sergeant at the front desk, looked sceptically at Rose.

  “It’s so unlike him to not be in contact. We speak most days and he was due to come round last night, but he never showed. I went round to his place this morning and it was obvious he’d not been home. And I’m getting worried.”

  “Could he be at a mate’s house, a girlfriend’s, maybe?”

  “He doesn’t have a girlfriend, well, not that I’m aware of, and I’m sure I’d know if he did have one. As for mates, none that he’d stay over at, and he’d still call me if he had. I’ve left loads of messages and nothing. Just goes straight to voicemail.”

  “Well, all I can do at this stage is fill in the relevant forms as a possible missing person, like we are doing now, but as he’s of age, he has every right to go off on his own.”

  “Possible missing person? There’s no possible about it – he’s not here!” Rose fought down her frustration. “What about trying to find his vehicle? CCTV cameras must show it someplace. Wouldn’t that be a place to start?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not as easy as that. We can’t just put his registration plate details in and out pops his location. The general public wouldn’t like us able to do such Big Brother things. Would be useful if we could, though,” Officer Thompson explained gently. For the police, in reality, there was bugger all they could do unless there was evidence of a crime, and a grown man gone missing was not a huge priority, particularly when more serious crimes were taking place, like sexual attacks and burglaries.

  Rose sighed heavily. What else could she do?

  “Look, I’ll pass this information on and see who has some time to look into it. You’ve given me as much as we need, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.” He gave her a card with the branch details on it. “We’ve got your details, so we’ll be in touch if we hear anything.”

  Rose had never felt so deflated. She knew Des wouldn’t just wander off. No, something had happened to him, and she was afraid he was lying hurt somewhere, or worse. He’d obviously gotten himself into financial trouble with his gambling again; otherwise he wouldn’t have taken her grocery money. Was it connected to that, she wondered? And should she say anything to the officer?

  “Look, before you file that piece of paper, there may be something.”

  Officer Thompson looked at her sideways, a little annoyed she’d not said what it was a little earlier. “Oh? And what’s that then?”

  “He gambles. Quite a bit. And I noticed he’d taken my grocery money, about two hundred pounds’ worth, and it’s not the first time. Do you think his debt could have gotten him into trouble? Maybe his bookie’s after him.”

  “Well, in my experience, if that’s the case, that’s even more reason for him to have run off, escape the heat, as it were. He’s probably waiting it out until things have cooled off, but thanks for telling me. Who’s his bookie?

  “It’s Lionel, in the high street. Will you have a word?”

  “I’ll add it in to this report and an officer will follow it up, and it will also go onto the Police National Computer. Anything else you think could be relevant?” He peered over his half-moon glasses at her like a headmaster and she felt small.

  “No. No, that’s it. So I guess I’ll just hope to hear from him, then?”

  “He’ll probably turn up in the next twenty-four hours. People who go missing generally come home when they either get hungry or realise they can’t stay away forever. Come back and face the music. I hope he does.” He smiled encouragingly at her and she managed a weak smile back. “We’ll be in touch if we hear anything.”

  Rose turned and left the station, feeling despondent and useless. How the hell was she supposed to find him on her own? One thing was for sure: if he hadn’t come home by tomorrow evening, she was going to put some pressure on the police to do something and investigate his disappearance a bit more seriously.

  Doug Thompson watched Rose leave, shoulders sagged, and he knew how she must have been feeling. The truth was, there wasn’t much they could do to help but he’d pass the missing person form on to someone to take a look at. The gambling angle could be something. How serious it might end up for him would depend on who he’d got mixed up with, but unfortunately the owner of the local bookies had a bit of a reputation for handling those who owed him money in some rather unorthodox ways. He hoped for Rose’s sake he just walked in the door later that day. He walked back into the main squad room and passed the report to Amanda.

  “What’s this, Doug?”

  “His sister just reported him missing and the gambling angle might be an issue. It’s our ‘friend’ at the local bookie’s. I figured if you’ve got time, you could take a look?”

  “Thanks. Might be able to look at it later today.” She dropped the report onto her desk and carried on with what she’d been doing.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Friday

  As always, Madeline looked forward to lunch with Rebecca, and this week she was particularly looking forward to it, not because she was going to tell her about the dead man lying buried in her garden, but because she wanted to know how it was going with Todd. Of course, there wasn’t anything going on in her own sex life that was noteworthy, but Rebecca’s, particularly with this young man, was a bit out of the norm. It was more like a story out of Woman’s Weekly than Cosmopolitan, considering their age group, but a juicy story nonetheless. She pulled up in the car park out the back of the Baskerville pub, named after the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who had lived nearby during the nineteenth century. She turned the engine off and sat and waited in her car rather than going straight in. Even though she’d slept well the previous night, she was feeling a bit rough around the edges after recent events. What she’d done was actually sinking in. She was hoping a girly chat with Rebecca about something fun would take her mind off the fact that there was a dead man buried in her garden and she was responsible for it.

  Was that only two days ago? Yes, it really was only two days since he’d shown up at her door, they’d argued, and she’d seen red and whacked him with a spade. The only good thing to come out of the whole debacle was she could now operate a digger to some degree. Not that it was going to be a useful skill around Croydon on the whole. The great orange machine was still staring at her through the kitchen window each day, though now it wasn’t mocking about the possibility of work being started: it was mocking in an ‘I-know-what-you-did’ kind of way. It was a good job diggers couldn’t talk; she’d be in the shit for sure. Or cats. Dexter wasn’t helping either, with his sideways glances as he passed her by, that ‘don’t come near me’ look on his furry, knowing face. Or was she imagining it?

  She wound the car window down to let some air in. The temperature at lunchtime wasn’t as high as it had been, but it was still pretty hot, and the gentle breeze that blew in was welcome. She leaned her head on the headrest and closed her eyes for a moment. The breeze blowing over her face actually felt quite therapeutic and she breathed deeply, trying to help her frazzled nerves soften around the edges. There were consequences to what she’d done, and Madeline hoped that she never had to face them: being someone’s bitch inside the ‘big house’ filled her with dread, but it was far too late to go back now. She thought she’d covered her tracks pretty well for an amateur, though caterpillar tracks were still evident across the garden. Who would think to look for a second hole with a landscaper buried in it next to one that he’d supposedly dug? Were they even looking for a murder victim, or was he just another missing person, another statistic that dropped off the earth every day of the week? The only reports she’d seen online were that he was missing, nothing more, and she hoped it stayed that way, though it was surely only a matter of time before the police turned up knocking. When they worked out he’d been at her place that morning, there would be questions, but as long as she told them what sh
e knew as far as she could without actually telling them that she’d whacked him, there should be no suspicion. After all, she was just a regular middle-aged woman with no motive who had booked a landscaper who had since vanished.

  The sound of another car pulling up beside her made her open her eyes. A smiling Rebecca looked back at her through the window, waving brightly. Madeline waved back, forcing a smile as she opened her car door and got out. Gravel crunched under her feet.

  “Hello darling!” Rebecca said happily. “Why are you waiting out here? Aren’t you hot in the car?”

  “No, I’ve just got here and I was just taking a quiet moment to myself before you arrived. It’s so peaceful here sometimes.” She gathered her bag off the passenger seat and locked the car door, hooking her arm into Rebecca’s as they walked over to the pub’s back entrance.

  “Well, if it’s peace you want, shall I go?” Rebecca said, squeezing her arm to show it was in fun.

  “No. Like hell. I want to hear the latest instalment of Todd and you, so no, absolutely not.”

  Madeline opened the door and they went inside. The pungent smell of beer lingered in the air. Since they were pretty much the first to arrive for Friday lunch, it must have been lingering from last night’s bar.

  “I’ll get these,” Rebecca said. “You go and sit down. You look done in.”

  Madeline did as she was told. She made her way to their usual spot, sat down and picked up the menu. She fancied something other than the usual cheese and ham toastie but nothing jumped out as she read. A moment later Rebecca handed her a gin and tonic and she took a sip, then another; the coolness was divine in her parched throat. She felt it immediately hit her empty stomach.

  “What are you having then? Toastie?”

  Same old, same old. Might as well, she thought. “Yes, but no fries for me unless you’re going to eat more than two. I might have a slice of something afterwards if I’m still hungry.”

  I have every intention of having a slice of something afterwards.

  “Good idea. You look like a piece of cake would fix things. I’ll go and order, and then you can tell me what’s on your mind.” And off she went to place their order with the young barman who hadn’t taken his eyes off Rebecca’s backside since she’d walked in.

  Madeline watched with interest as she flirted with him outrageously. She leaned close and gave him a meaningful wink as she finished placing their order, and the poor young man turned crimson as she turned and sauntered away, no doubt with a matching hot flush in his pants.

  I wish my hot flushes happened just in my pants.

  She sipped her gin and tonic and watched Rebecca sashay back to their table, all short cream leather skirt and long tanned legs. She would have matched the leather interior of her Mercedes perfectly, and Madeline thought back to Pink Fluffy Woman for a moment and the luxurious cream interior of her car. Had she ever found that finger hole in her packet of buns?

  “So, tell me what’s up Maddy. You’re not your normal cheery self today.”

  “Oh, I’m okay. Just had a bit of a stressful week, that’s all. I’m fine, really.”

  That’s the understatement of the year, Madeline. You are now officially a murderer.

  “But I’m dying to know more about you and you-know-who – Todd. So tell me more.” She leaned in low as she said “Todd” and smiled encouragingly. Rebecca smiled, ready to tell all, and blushed ever such a little, just enough for Madeline to notice.

  “He’s lovely. And heavenly! I’m getting quite addicted to our twice-weekly sessions. I think I might get withdrawal symptoms when he goes back at the end of the summer.” There was a teeny bit of longing in her eyes; she really meant it.

  Madeline’s danger radar started spinning. This wasn’t supposed to happen: no falling in love, just fun.

  “Oh dear, and you’re off to Malaga soon, aren’t you? How will you cope with just Edward for kicks?”

  “I know,” Rebecca said mournfully. “I wouldn’t be so bad if he was staying at home like he did last year. I had a ball on my own back then. Perhaps I could fly Todd out with me…” Her voice trailed off.

  Madeline had never seen her like this about one of her casual liaisons. Obviously this one was something more.

  “Too bloody dangerous,” she said. “Don’t even go there, Rebecca. Where would you stash him – in the guest suite for a fortnight? I think Edward might just find him in there. And what’s with this longing? It’s not normally what you do. ‘Just for fun,’ you say. You sound like you’ve fallen.”

  “I know, and I am having fun, and so is he. But yes, I do feel a tad more for him than my other flings. He’s so damn cute.”

  “And you should leave it at that – fun. You’ve too much to lose.” She was being the voice of reason, sensible Madeline again.

  “But life with Edward can be so drab on its own. He’s always at work, and I’m damn sure he’s screwing his PA on the side. That’s why I have my little flings – I’ve got to get my kicks somewhere. He sure as hell is.”

  “Then why stay married to him if you think he’s screwing around too? You’re each as bad as the other.”

  Rebecca thought for a moment. “Simple. I love the lifestyle he gives me, pure and simple: his money, and my freedom to do what I want most days. It costs a mint to look like this,” she said, waving her perfectly manicured hand around her head and shoulders.

  Madeline’s brow creased. She had never understood this side of Rebecca, and she didn’t now. She herself didn’t look like a trophy wife at business functions and was happy not to. If Gordon asked her to attend a company function, she squeezed herself into a body stocking girdle and put on the one black dress that she knew would make her look half decent. They didn’t go out formally that much. Well, not much at all, actually.

  “That’s not a reason to stay married. What about love?”

  “I still love him, just not like when we first married. We just exist together now, but we still have a laugh. We still like one another as people. The fireworks have just fizzled out now. No more bang! bang!”

  The handsome young barman arrived just then with their food, and his ears turned bright red again at Rebecca’s words. He placed the two plates of toasties on the table in front of them. Rebecca gave him another one of her flirty winks, making him red to the tips of his ears, and then they tucked in. The greasy melted cheese filled Madeline’s empty stomach and, mixed with the gin, made her feel a little better about her own problem. She immediately felt herself brighten.

  “You look a little tired, Maddy. Aren’t you sleeping well again?”

  I did fine on Wednesday night….

  “Fits and starts. I go to bed and sleep really easily, but then I wake at about 3 am and then can’t get back. It seems to happen for about a week out of every four, sort of part of my new cycle. Just means I’m knackered all week. And then the following week I sleep like a king, like I need to play catch-up. And when I wake up in the morning, I feel like I’ve been out partying hard all night, when all I’ve really done is read two pages of my book.” As if on cue, she yawned loudly.

  “That’s no good. Have you tried a sleeping tablet on those nights?”

  “You know my thoughts on chemical pills, Rebecca. So no, just a herbal sleep tea before bed. But I must confess, I have got some from the doctor. I’ve just not actually tried one yet.”

  “Well, I guess having them in your drawer is a start, Maddy. Just don’t be afraid to try one. You might just get a good night’s sleep for a change.”

  They both fell silent while they ate their toasties. Madeline was thankful for not getting a lecture on chemical help again.

  “Can I run something past you?” Rebecca asked eventually.

  “Of course. What is it?” Madeline enquired, taking another mouthful of toastie and chewing as she talked.

  “Well, you know that landscaper guy that went missing?”

  That caught her attention. What on earth was she going to say? She st
opped chewing to answer. “Yes. What about him?”

  “Well, I took Todd down to that reserve where they found his van, sort of on a date, and we parked up under the trees in Todd’s car.”

  Oh shit. Where was this going?

  “And?”

  “And I remember seeing his van parked down there that day. Do you think I should go to the police and say? Only it could get embarrassing for me, if you understand. They’ll want to know what I was doing there and who I was with, and I can’t let that come out. What do you think I should do?” There was a tiny bit of concern in her voice.

  “When was this – on the day he disappeared?”

  Holy shit, I hope not. Had she seen me? I’d thought the coast was clear.

  “Yes, it must have been about two o’clock, and it wasn’t until we were ready to go that I even noticed it – not that I realised at the time whose it was or why it might be relevant to anything. I saw the report in the paper yesterday and put two and two together.”

  Madeline slowly let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Rebecca couldn’t have seen her at that time – she’d been back home working a digger. But shit, that was too close for comfort.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. You didn’t see anything, did you? Just his van, which you didn’t realise at the time was significant. No one acting suspiciously?” She had to ask, just in case there was more Rebecca wasn’t telling her.