SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense (3 page)

She took a last look around before leaving. There were two empty weekend bags tucked up at the side of the wardrobe. Several of the drawers contained clothes and a few items were hanging from the rail inside the cupboard. The two detectives stepped out of their overalls and returned to the reception area. Sophie went across to the couple sitting with Jimmy Melsom and asked the woman to come into a nearby office with her.

‘Coffee, Jimmy, please,’ she called. ‘You’re with me, Barry.’

The three of them sat around a table.

‘Is it Sarah?’ the woman immediately asked, fear in her eyes. ‘Dark hair, green eyes?’

‘We can’t be absolutely sure, but the description fits. I’m so sorry. It must be a shock to you. I also need to tell you that we’re treating the death as suspicious at the moment.’

Rosemary started to cry. ‘I just can’t believe it. Surely there’s a mistake? Why would anyone want to kill her? She wouldn’t harm anyone. Everyone liked her, she was so full of fun.’

‘Let me get some details from you. You’re Rosemary Corrigan, is that right? Apparently you felt uneasy when you arrived back at the room earlier this morning.’

‘Yes. I don’t know what it was. I expected to find Sarah in the room, possibly still asleep. But it was so silent in there. The bed looked a bit rumpled but had been made up, which seemed weird. You’d normally leave that to the hotel staff, wouldn’t you?’

‘Were you expecting a family room when you arrived?’

‘No, of course not. Sarah booked it. According to her it was the last room available in the hotel. I thought it was a bit odd, but I was just happy to have somewhere warm and comfortable to sleep. We agreed that I’d have the single bed and she’d take the larger one. And the room was fine. It’s very comfortable and airy, or at least it seemed so yesterday when we checked in.’

‘Was there anything else that didn’t seem right this morning?’

‘It’s hard to put my finger on it. There was no answer when I tapped at the door, so I unlocked it and went in. At first I thought she was in the bathroom, but it was empty. It was when I came back into the bedroom. There was something about the atmosphere. It was very different to when we unpacked yesterday. The room was fresh and welcoming then, but this morning the air seemed sort of tired. It’s hard to explain.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I locked the door and went down to the restaurant to see if she was having breakfast. But there was no sign of her. And then the manager came in and started looking around and ticking names off a list. I spoke to her and asked her if she’d seen Sarah. That’s when I started to really worry.’

‘What happened last night?’

Sophie listened attentively to Rosemary’s account of the evening, while Marsh took notes.

‘Tell me more about the two men, Rosemary. Describe them to me.’

‘Well, Derek was the one who was with Sarah last night. He was tall, probably about six feet. He had dark hair and brown eyes, a kind of Mediterranean look. Really handsome. He was wearing black trousers, a red cord shirt and a tan bomber jacket. There was a spark between them as soon as they met, I could tell. I didn’t catch his surname.’

‘And the other man?’

‘Brian. He wanted to get off with me, but I didn’t really like him. He seemed a bit of a moody type.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘A lot shorter. He had mid-brown hair, and blue eyes that bulged slightly. His nose was a bit turned up. He was in jeans and a black leather jacket. He left about the same time as Ed and me.’

‘So you stayed the night in Ed’s flat? Did you hear anything during the night?’

‘Nothing unusual, and I’m a light sleeper. But I was in the lounge with the door shut. I didn’t sleep with Ed, you know. He offered me a place to sleep as a way out of my dilemma. Sarah wanted our room, and I didn’t want to go with Brian. Staying at Ed’s was the only alternative.’

‘Okay. What clothes did you bring, Rosemary?’

‘Just enough for a couple of days. It’s all in the room, either in the drawers or hanging up.’

‘Can you tell me about Sarah? Where she lived, what she did as a job? That kind of thing.’

‘I know her address,’ Rosemary replied. ‘But I can’t be sure about much else. She might have worked in a bank, but she also talked about insurance. She was a bit vague about it.’

Marsh took Rosemary back to the reception area. Sophie spoke to Ed Wilton for a few minutes.

‘What do you think of their story, ma’am?’ Marsh asked, once they were alone.

‘Same as you, I would have thought. I’m apt to believe the two of them for now, but I want everything they’ve said double-checked. Get the locals out looking for our two men. They were at a B and B somewhere in the town. It shouldn’t be difficult to find. I’m a bit surprised Mrs Corrigan didn’t know where they were staying. But if they were up to no good, maybe they avoided talking about it.’

‘Right away, ma’am. It’s interesting that Mrs Corrigan also spoke of a strange atmosphere in the room.’

‘It was the smell, Barry. I’ve been thinking about what it was. A faint trace of shit and piss nearly masked by the air freshener and some perfume. But it was in the bedroom, not the bathroom.’ She paused. ‘It’s the smell of someone who’s almost paralysed with fright. She lost control of her bodily functions.’

* * *

The forensic team arrived and started their meticulous examination of the room. After interviewing the staff, Sophie and Marsh found time for a coffee. Marsh nibbled on his biscuit.

‘Is Lydia still with you?’

‘No. She put in for a transfer soon after that last business down here. A bit odd really. She’s in Bath now, apparently. She sent me a card thanking me for the help I’d given her, but I haven’t heard from her since she went.’

‘Really?’

‘It took me by surprise. I thought she was happy working for me. I guess I was away a lot around the time she left. It took longer than I expected to get those poor girls identified — the ones you found buried at the farm. Duff and company were clever, you know, certainly in the early stages. They only chose poor, country girls or orphans to smuggle out from Romania. I suppose like so many thugs they got overconfident as time went on, and that’s when it started to go wrong for them. Nadia and Sorina were too much of a handful, too bright, and the gang had become sloppy.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘They were both back here a couple of weeks ago, visiting Jade, and they looked as if they’ve recovered well.’ She paused. ‘I was seconded to the Home Office for a while and was getting therapy for the state my head was in. I suppose I wasn’t around enough for Lydia to be able to talk to me. I certainly didn’t see it coming, her wanting to leave, and it was too late to do anything about it when I did find out.’

Marsh inhaled. ‘She thought it was you, ma’am. You know, the woman who tortured Charlie Duff. I tried to convince her that it wasn’t, but she wouldn’t have it.’

‘Christ! So that was it.’

‘She’d always hero-worshipped you, ma’am.’

‘And in her eyes I fell from grace quite spectacularly.’ She regarded Marsh. ‘And what do you think, Barry?’

‘I was with you when we found him. I know it wasn’t you, ma’am. I saw how it affected you, finally finding the man who killed your father. That was no act, and if you’d done those things to him the night before, you wouldn’t have reacted like that.’

‘That’s very loyal of you, but I don’t know whether I deserve it. I have a proposal for you, Barry. I don’t know what the future holds for you here, what with all this talk of job cuts. I’ve pondered on it for a long time, but there’s no one I’d rather have working for me. So if you could bear to put up with me on a full-time basis, how would you feel about being my permanent second, based at HQ?’

After several seconds Marsh realised his mouth was hanging open and closed it. He opened it again.

‘I’d love to, ma’am. There’s nothing to hold me here now. I’ve finally split up with Sammie, and with the uncertainty about the future of the station here, I’d much rather go somewhere settled. You know that Tom Rose plans to take redundancy? We’re guessing that it’ll just be a sergeant in charge.’ He finally took a sip of coffee. ‘You’ve no idea what this means to me. But isn’t there anyone else you’d prefer? Someone a bit more qualified? You know, more like Lydia?’

‘There are cutbacks going on left, right and centre. I wouldn’t get to pick and choose, Barry, and I’d find it hard to accept that. And you’re a good counter to me. In some ways Lydia was perfect, but in other ways she was too much like me. I need someone to pull me back down to earth occasionally. And you do that brilliantly. But we will have a DC with us. Someone starts next week as Lydia’s replacement, and I don’t know anything about him or her. I should have had a DS with me all along, but the powers that be never got around to it because they knew there were cuts on the way. So in a way, if you join me, I’ll have the core of the permanent team that I should have had from the start.’

‘When do I start? Officially, I mean?’

‘Now. I’ve already cleared it with Matt Silver and the Chief Constable will ratify it. I had a long chat with him last month when I returned to full-time work.’

‘I knew you were on leave for a long time. I heard that from the Super on one of his flying visits down here.’

‘I needed it, Barry. You saw what a mess I was in. That whole business really wrecked my brain. I thought I’d be okay once we bagged Duff and got all the loose ends tidied up, but I just got worse and worse. I was in and out of therapy for months. It was all due to the hatred I’d felt towards my father. I always thought that he’d run out on my mother when he found out that she was pregnant, despite what she’d told me. A childhood filled with that kind of simmering anger was barely controllable. Then to discover that he’d been murdered and hadn’t abandoned her at all was too much for me to cope with. It was all down to the intense guilt I was feeling, at having hated him for forty years.’

‘I had no idea. I’m just amazed that you want to continue.’

‘It’s what I do, Barry. It’s what I do best. I’m not ready to chuck in the towel just yet.’ She smiled at him. ‘Lucky for you, wouldn’t you say?’

He nodded. Then his phone sounded.

‘We may have a lead on where they were staying.’

‘Let’s get moving. Time waits for no woman, nor does a murderer.’

* * *

The Hawthorns Guest House was situated just off Victoria Avenue, about half a mile from the seafront. It was a detached building, constructed from the local grey Purbeck stone. Virginia creeper, still in its glorious autumn colours, clung to the walls above the front porch and late-blossoming flowers cascaded from hanging baskets and tubs. Marsh introduced Sophie to the guesthouse proprietor, an anxious-looking woman in her fifties.

‘Mrs Julia Fantini, ma’am. She owns the place, and checked in a Mr Brian Shapiro and his friend when they arrived late yesterday afternoon.’

The two detectives were taken to the room booked by the two men. Sophie asked the owner to wait downstairs.

‘We’ll just have a quick look around,’ she said. ‘I want to get a feel for the place.’

The twin-bedded room was family-sized, and one of the beds was a double. It was a similar arrangement to the room they’d just visited at the hotel, although this one was smaller. It was neat and clean.

‘Well, nothing looks out of place, but we’ll get forensics to check once they’ve finished in the hotel.’

Marsh nodded, and looked out of the window.

Sophie stepped around the beds, scanning the surfaces of shelves and tables, but all the items looked as though they belonged to the premises. The wardrobe was empty, as were the four drawers in the dressing table. Two holdalls lay on the floor in front of the window.

‘It doesn’t look as though they unpacked,’ Sophie said. ‘Maybe they arrived, dumped their stuff and went out immediately.’

She carefully unzipped each bag, looking for anything with a name on it, but could find nothing. Each small bag merely held a few spare clothes and an electric razor.

‘Travelling light,’ Marsh commented.

‘Right, let’s leave the detailed search to the experts. We need to examine the bookings.’

They returned to the ground floor. The owner was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, her arms folded tightly around her chest. She looked paler than when they’d first arrived.

‘A friend’s just called and said a body’s been found out at Peveril. Is this linked?’

‘We can’t be sure, Mrs Fantini. Not until our forensic people have been here to check on the evidence. But we’ll need to seal off that room, and maybe talk to your other guests. Can you give me the details of the reservation? Which of the two made it, and when?’

‘The booking was made about three weeks ago by phone.’ Mrs Fantini checked the details on her computer. ‘Mr Shapiro made it.’

‘That’s fine,’ Sophie replied. ‘Did you pick up anything unusual about them when they arrived?’

Mrs Fantini shook her head. ‘Not really. They were in a bit of a rush. They took the key, dropped their bags in the room, then they were back downstairs and out.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Just before seven twenty. Mr Shapiro asked about pubs and somewhere to eat when he signed in. I told him that all the pubs served food, but that they’d be much busier than normal because of the blues festival. He told me that’s what they were down here for.’