The Book of Revenge (8 page)

Jen did look up then, perhaps surprised at his fake matter of fact tone and controlled demeanor. ‘Why?’

He gave her a look that reminded her that he was the senior officer and had the right to ask even though it was his wife sat inside the room.

‘Just after midnight, which is verified by the neighbour’s camera,’ she said.

‘So we need a time of death then.’ He replied calmly, but silently wondering what his wife was doing between leaving Brian Chards house and turning up in tears at home a couple of hours later. He was confident that she would have a good explanation, well fairly confident.

‘Should have it soon, Gov.’ she said. She fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘We’ll have to keep her in for a bit, and we ought to search the house...’ her voice trailed off and she studied her shoes again.

It was a novelty to see her so awkward and uncomfortable. In other circumstances he might have taken some perverse enjoyment from it.

‘In case she has a stash of lipsticks and a gun in her knickers drawer?’ He couldn’t quite keep the bitter bite from his voice. Obviously, he knew she was only doing her job, and it must pretty difficult for her as well. Even so, he felt unreasonable hostility towards her and for the first time he had a glimmer of understanding for all the suspects that had been angry and uncooperative. It was a disturbing feeling to be accused.

‘I’ll organise a search warrant.’

‘No need.’ He said, relenting. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his house keys. ‘Be my guest,’ he handed them over and then left the station. Was he afraid that they might find something? Of course not, he told himself firmly. But he had to admit he was a tiny bit worried. He couldn’t shake the memory of the night he had the gun pointed at him. If it was real and not some drug, drink induced nightmare, then it had been Avril’s face looking into his own.

Liz was sat on the damp grass between two grave stones. Freshly laid flowers rested on each. Slowly she got up and walked back towards her car. Dawn was waiting patiently for her.

‘Thornton’s?’ Dawn said. ‘To hell with the diet, today we need chocolate.’

Liz drove in silence. She parked the car and they both climbed out and headed up the High Street. Inside the Chocolate shop, Liz found a free table and Dawn went to the counter to make the order. The shop was busy, it hadn’t been open very long and with the recession biting hard Liz feared it might not survive.

Dawn put two glass mugs down on the table along with two chocolates.

‘What is that?’ Liz said pointing to the overflowing mug.

‘Hot choc with everything.’

Liz scooped up a spoonful of cream and marshmallows and found herself smiling.

‘See, it's magical stuff.’ Dawn said pleased.

The smile was fleeting. ‘It’s been two years,’ Liz said.

‘I know.’

‘I miss him.’

‘Of course you do, but it is time to move on. I know why you married him; I know it was the right thing to do. But seriously Liz don’t you ever wish you could find that kind of love and passion for yourself?’

Liz wasn’t upset or offended, just sad, ‘well you’re living proof that love hurts.’

Dawn pulled a face. ‘Ouch.’

Liz smiled gently. ‘What Steve and I had was special. We supported each other and we loved each other.’

‘Yeah I know, but as friends with separate bedrooms. Now it’s time to let the past go, time you found a man of your own to love.’

An image of Matt flashed into her brain; she banished it and sipped her hot chocolate. ‘Give it up Dawn. I’m a lost cause. I’ll settle for watching you dance to love’s tune...’

‘Ha bloody ha!’

Phillip stood at the door waiting for Dawn. Liz watched him as he watched her friend slip into her jacket. What was the deal? Clearly he adored her, and she was utterly in love with him, so what kept them apart?

Liz hugged Dawn. ‘Thanks for today.’

Dawn smiled. ‘Anytime.’

Liz watched them drive away and felt very alone. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like to be in love like Dawn was. She shook away the threatening melancholy and made herself a mug of tea. She looked up surprised as she heard the front door open. The kitchen door soon followed and a smiling Sam skipped into the room.

Sam kissed Liz on the top of the head and started rummaging in the fridge. ‘I’m starving.’

Liz stood up; she couldn’t quite hide the worried frown. ‘Alright, love?’

‘Of course, I just wanted to see my mum. Nothing wrong with that...’

Liz knew her daughter far too well to take that statement at face value. Something was definitely up.

Matt watched from the edge of the pitch. A group of men, all old enough to know better, were playing a vicious game of rugby. Skill and agility had been replaced with brute force and ignorance.

Amongst the losing team was Andrew.

The referee blew the whistle and Andrew launched a tirade of offensive language towards him. The captain from the winning side joined in to support the referee and Andrew tackled him to the ground. Matt watched as Andrews’s team mate, Kevin pulled him off and dragged him towards the changing rooms.

Matt headed for the clubhouse. He ordered himself a mineral water when what he really wanted was a whisky and then sat himself down to wait.

It wasn’t long before Andrew and Kevin, showered and changed, reached the bar. They didn’t turn and look around, they didn’t see Matt. But he was close enough to hear them.

‘You heard about Adam and Sharpy?’ Kevin said. ‘Both dead, and James was nearly a goner.’

Andrew drank his pint down in one long gulp. He tapped the empty glass down onto the surface and the barman filled it up again.

‘So what? It’ll be drugs; Adam always was a smack head.’

Kevin glanced across at the wall. It was lined with photos, past teams and past glories. ‘You don’t think there’s a connection?’

Andrew was more interested in his beer. ‘What’re you on about?’

‘I read it in the paper today, big front page. It said they were executed, single shot in the head.’

Matt frowned. He hadn’t seen the paper that morning. How would they have got information like that? He had ordered his team not to give out any details for fear of a copycat.

‘Picture of James’ kid and his slutty wife, you remember her…’ Kevin demonstrated with his hands that the size of her breasts were worth remembering if nothing else about her was.

‘Oh yeah Lindsey, got off with her one night…’

Kevin didn’t look convinced. Matt was inclined to agree. The woman had a lot of faults but she had an instinctive type of intelligence that would keep her away from a man like Andrew. She went for men that she could use and manipulate; she was in many ways a female mirror image of the man. Matt was fuming that she had stolen the publicity from her ex-husband, and felt guilty that he had told James not to speak to the press.

Andrew pushed another pint towards Kevin.

Kevin turned around from the bar and saw Matt. He stared at him for several seconds before he nodded a brief acknowledgement and then turned away. Matt watched as he leaned in closer to Andrew. ‘All I’m saying is that maybe we ought to get ourselves a bit of protection.’ Kevin pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and scribbled a number onto the back of a bar mat. He handed it to Andrew. ‘Give ‘em a call.’

Andrew shoved the card into his pocket and finished his third pint. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’ He said.

Neither of the men looked his way again. Matt watched them leave. He still wasn’t willing to let Andrew off the hook. The man was a nutter and Matt would love to get him locked up for something, especially if it carried a life sentence. But Andrew’s alibi for the attempt on James life almost checked out. Bouncers confirmed that he had been at the nightclub but none of them were able to say for certain what time he left. So the hook was still clinging to Andrews’ shirt, but only just.

Matt’s mobile phone rang. It was Jen. Reluctantly he picked it up and she told him that his wife was being released. The time of death was almost two hours later than she was seen leaving the property. The search of his house hadn’t turned up a gun and they had nothing to hold her on. Reading between the lines he knew that there was a ‘yet’ that Jen would love to add to the sentence. His young colleague couldn’t quite keep the edge out of her voice, it was clear that in Jen’s eyes, Avril was still the number one suspect.

‘You definitely don’t know what time she got home?’ Jen said.

‘No.’ he lied, ‘I told you before, I took a sleeping pill…’

He didn’t really know why he lied. If he was honest he was more than a bit concerned about Avril himself. But she was still his wife and he couldn’t, or wouldn’t allow himself to doubt her.

Avril was already at home when he got there. She’d ordered a taxi rather than wait for him to pick her up. He was glad; he didn’t really want to be anywhere near the station. He could imagine the rumours and the gossiping. Nobody would want him around to spoil the fun. It was probably the best scandal to hit Bidbury station in years. Detective inspector married to a serial killer. He knew the hard core gossips wouldn’t let a little thing like lack of evidence get in the way of a good story. And even when they did finally let it drop everyone would know his wife was having an affair.

She was in the bedroom throwing things into a suitcase. He had expected as much, but even so it hurt, he felt like he’d been punched hard, in the gut.

‘Don’t try and stop me.’

He had no intentions of doing so. ‘Where will you go?’

She was angry. But it was fake anger, to hide her pain. He wondered if she was upset because Brian Chard was dead or because she’d been found out. Had she loved the man? He wanted to ask but couldn’t. Was he afraid of her answer? He didn’t know. In a strange and unexpected way, seeing her pack he felt relief. At least it was over now. No more pretending. No more clinging to empty hopes. No more trying for a baby that was never going to happen and no more looking into her eyes and seeing her disappointment and his own failings.

‘I have friends.’ She answered, struggling to do up the suitcase.

He squashed it down for her while she pulled the zip around. She picked the case up from the bed and they looked at each other, briefly, sadly. Then she looked away and started to fill the next case.

He hovered in the doorway. He even wondered if he should offer to help, but didn’t. It didn’t seem right, helping your wife to pack ready to walk out on you. But watching didn’t seem right either.

Obviously she felt the same way. She stopped emptying her underwear drawer into the case and looked at him. ‘I loved him,’ she said, tears filling her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, but I did. I just thought you should know.’

Did it make it better or worse? He wasn’t sure. The first thought that struck him was why? Brian Chard was a dick, always had been. But he kept his mouth shut.

‘He made me feel special...’ she continued.

He finally realised that he didn’t want to hear anymore. He turned around and walked out of the room, down the stairs and out of the house.

The gym was almost empty. Early evening on a Saturday and people had better things to do. Not him. He was running fast on the treadmill. Sweat poured down his face and his chest. He turned the speed up again, faster and faster.

His mind skipped back to the Rugby club. Andrew and Kevin were on the field. They were young then and surrounded by the rest of the winning youth team. Matt was amongst them. He remembered how he’d reached out to touch the trophy before Andrew grabbed it and held it up high in a triumphant salute. Then showered and changed the entire team had gone to the clubhouse for beer, and lots of it. Nobody cared that a few of them weren’t quite eighteen. They were celebrating and this was the eighties.

Liz walked into the gym. She saw him immediately. She hesitated; she’d expected to be alone. He spotted her in the mirrors that covered the walls. He slowed down. She walked towards him.

‘That was a serious workout.’ She said, taking in the rivers of sweat that stained his top.

He nodded while he waited for his breathing to return to normal.

‘I wonder what you’re running away from.’ She said it lightly, flippantly, but his head snapped up and their eyes locked together. She stepped onto the treadmill beside his and started jogging.

Matt spent a long time under the shower. Then, dry and dressed he waited outside for her. She wasn’t long. He stubbed his cigarette out as soon as he saw her and smiled.

‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked hopefully while wondering what the hell he was doing.

‘No.’

‘Dinner?’

‘No.’

She walked away making him run to catch up with her.

‘Sex?’ in for a penny, he thought at the same time as kicking himself for being so ridiculous. What would a woman like her ever see in him?

She stopped walking and turned round laughing. ‘Still no.’ she said.

He must have looked as much the pathetic loser as he felt because she seemed to take pity on him.

‘Really I can’t. Not tonight.’