Authors: David George Richards
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #women, #contemporary romance, #strong female lead
“You tell her,
Rosie!” Louise added. “I like it!”
“Oh, well
then!” Victoria said, folding her arms. “I suppose I’ll just have
to get used to it.”
Rosanna stood
with her hands on her hips. “Is that all the gratitude I get?”
Victoria
laughed and quickly went over to Rosanna. “I didn’t mean it to
sound like that,” she said. “I do like it really. I’m just kidding
Louise. Thank you, Rosie.”
“That’s more
like it.”
The two of them
kissed. Louise went over to Rosanna and also kissed her.
“Thanks a lot,
Rosie. For everything.”
“Oh, think
nothing of it, really.” Rosanna was beginning to get embarrassed.
“Look, I better go,” she said quickly. “If I stay any longer, Dave
will file for divorce!”
They walked her
to the door and said their goodbyes. When she had left and the door
was closed, Louise turned to Victoria and smiled.
Victoria held
up her finger warningly. “If you say I look cute one more time,
I’ll thump you!” she said.
After they had
cleared up the bathroom, Louise and Victoria spent the rest of the
evening sat on the sofa together. They chatted quietly and watched
telly, doing their best not to dwell on the events of the day. But
Jo was never very far from their thoughts, and it wasn’t long
before they would think of the murder, and then they would cry.
Louise also couldn’t stop thinking about what Victoria had told
her. And every so often she would turn to Victoria with tears in
her eyes and hug her tightly.
The evening
passed like that. Brief spells of tears interspaced with the gentle
hugs and warmth of being together. At those times Louise couldn’t
stop playing with Victoria’s hair.
“You’re going
to pull it all out,” Victoria complained.
“I can’t help
it,” Louise replied. “It’s so different. I could stroke it and play
with it all night.”
It was after
ten o’clock when they went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate.
They were just coming back with a mug each when the news item about
Jo’s murder appeared on the television.
“That’s him!”
Louise exclaimed, pointing at the photofit picture on the
screen.
Victoria sat
down on the sofa and leaned forward, staring at the picture. “Are
you sure? I only saw his feet.”
“It’s him I
tell you! Him to a T!”
Louise sat down
next to Victoria on the sofa. They sat together leaning forward,
both staring at the screen. And when the news was finished they
both sat back.
Louise turned
to Victoria. “How did they get so good a description?” she asked.
“I could hardly remember anything.”
“Somebody else
must have seen them together,” Victoria suggested. “Maybe a bouncer
at the club?”
“Yes, that must
be it.”
“Do you think
he did it?”
“You heard
them. They said they didn’t think so.”
“I wonder who
they think it is, then?”
“I hope it
isn’t anybody we know,” Louise said thoughtfully. “I’d hate
that.”
“Nah! It’ll be
some nutter,” Victoria replied. “Who do we know who would want to
hurt Jo? It has to be some nutter. There are plenty out there.”
Louise wasn’t
convinced. “They always say that most people are killed by someone
they know. It can be a neighbour or a friend. Or even husbands,
wives, or boyfriends. Even parents. You see it all the time on the
telly. They appear in tears, begging for someone to come forward to
help the police. Then a month later it turns out to be them in the
first place.”
When Louise
finished talking Victoria didn’t say anything. Louise looked across
and saw her sad expression. What she had said suddenly dawned on
her.
“Oh, Vikki!”
she exclaimed. She put her mug of hot chocolate down on the table
and quickly embraced her. “I didn’t mean you! Stop thinking like
that! Please!”
Victoria smiled
weakly. “It’s alright,” she said as Louise fussed over her. “I’m
not upset, really. It just made me think that’s all. Maybe you’re
right. Maybe more people are killed by someone they know, or
because of someone they know. You have to hate someone to kill them
don’t you?”
“But who could
hate Jo?”
Louise’s
question made Victoria shiver.
They didn’t
stay up much longer after that. They finished their hot chocolate
and went to bed. They slept together in Louise’s bedroom. But
although they shared the same bed, there was no sex that night. It
never even crossed their minds as they slept in one another’s arms,
both happy and comforted to know that they were not alone.
Mike Geddes
turned himself in at the police station within an hour of the news
story about Jo’s murder. It was just as well, as several people had
already rung in to say that they knew him and where he lived.
Shawcroft
interviewed him that night. Mike was sixteen, with fair hair and a
fading black-eye. He was very nervous despite Shawcroft’s
insistence that he was only helping them with their inquiries.
“That usually
means you’re going to arrest me,” Mike said.
“Did you kill
Joanne Henshaw?” Shawcroft asked him bluntly.
Mike looked
terrified at just hearing the question. “No!” he said quickly and
nervously. “I did nothing! I didn’t even know she was dead until I
saw the news!”
“Then you have
nothing to worry about.”
Shawcroft
switched on the tape recorder, stated the time and who was present,
then started the interview.
“Tell me what
happened when you met Joanne.”
Mike took a
while to tell his story, but slowly, it all came out.
“I was in the
club with a few mates when I saw her dancing with another girl. She
was real pretty. A real looker. She had on a dead short dress. She
had nice legs. Nice face. I fancied her, so I got one of my mates
to come with me and we danced with her and her friend for a bit.
She was older than me, and my mates had told me that she would
probably turn me down, but she didn’t. Her friend soon went off,
but she stayed and danced with me. She seemed to like me. We
started kissing in a corner. She was real friendly, real nice. We
were kissing for ages. She let me touch her. She wasn’t wearing
much under that dress. I liked her lots.
“When we left
together my mates were all dead jealous. We bumped into the other
girl, her friend, outside. She was with another girl who was being
sick. She was in a bit of a mess. She must have been dead drunk. I
didn’t pay them much attention. I’d had a few drinks, and anyway, I
was more interested in Jo. I liked her lots, and I couldn’t wait to
get her home.”
“You went
home?” Shawcroft asked quickly.
“No. I wanted
to. I was dead eager. She was real nice. But Jo wanted to go for a
curry first, so that’s what we did.”
“Where did you
go for this curry?”
“We went to the
Hanaan restaurant in Rusholme. She was dead hungry. I hardly had
enough money for the bill. But she just laughed and gave me some of
hers. We had a nice time, really. She told me about her friends and
what she was doing at University. She didn’t care that I was
younger than her. Some girls can be a bit stroppy about that, or if
you haven’t got enough money. But she was dead nice. I liked her
lots.”
“What happened
after that?”
“We caught the
all night bus to Stretford. I was walking her home when that
boyfriend of hers turned up and ruined it all.”
Shawcroft felt
the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. “What was his name?” he
quickly demanded, trying his best to keep calm when he was so eager
to hear the answer. “Did Joanne call him by his name?”
Mike nodded.
“Yeah, it was Max.”
“Could you
identify him if you saw him again?”
“Yeah. He was
bigger than me. And angry. He smacked me in the eye and knocked me
down.” Mike put his hand up to his bruised face as he spoke. “Jo
kept pushing him away. She told him to leave me alone, but he kept
shouting at me, and trying to kick me when I was on the ground.
Finally Jo told me I better go. I didn’t want to, but he was bigger
than me. And he was her boyfriend.” The tears began to well up in
his eyes as he began to realise the truth. “He didn’t kill her did
he? I liked her. She was real nice to me. He did kill her, didn’t
he? If I’d stayed to help her she might still be alive. Oh, shit! I
let her get killed! Oh, God! Oh, no…shit…”
Mike collapsed
in a flood of tears. There was no questioning him after that. But
Shawcroft already had what he wanted. He was so pleased he
telephoned Connors at home almost immediately.
Connors sighed
as he heard the phone ring. He was halfway through his dinner. Pie,
chips and gravy purchased from the local chip-shop on the way home,
and a can of Boddingtons to wash it all down. He put his knife and
fork down and answered the phone.
Shawcroft said
hello, apologised for ringing him so late, then quickly told him
what had happened. Connors listened carefully, and didn’t speak
until Shawcroft had finished.
“Hmmm. So,
those surveillance tapes from the night-club came up trumps,” he
said over the phone.
“That and the
TV broadcast,” Shawcroft replied. “He couldn’t wait to give himself
up. You were right all along. It was Max Headly. But now that we
have Mike Geddes’s statement, we’ve got him.”
Connors wasn’t
so convinced. “Scott Headly worries me. If he and Max stick to
their story, we could still be in trouble. Their parents and their
solicitor will stick by them, so it won’t be easy.”
“What should we
do?”
“Get Max in
tomorrow. Organise a line up. If Mike Geddes can pick him out, then
I think we’ll have him.”
Neither Louise
nor Victoria really fancied going to University that morning. But
Mrs Thorne had said that classes would resume today, so in they had
to go. Louise said that it was probably for the best, anyway. If
they stayed at home they would only dwell on it more. Victoria was
slower getting out of bed, but she finally agreed.
“If you want to
know the truth,” she said to Louise as they sat together on the
tram. “It’s seeing Chrissy that I’m dreading the most. If she
attacks me again, I’ll die.”
Louise had
forgotten all about Chrissy. She told Victoria not to worry, but by
the time they reached class, Louise was just as worried as she
was.
Chrissy was
already there. She was sitting next to Angela, and as soon as she
saw them, she stood up and came towards them. Everyone else in the
class stared, waiting for the inevitable.
Victoria braced
herself, her eyes closed, and Louise quickly stepped between her
and Chrissy. She wondered why Angela didn’t come to help her, but
Chrissy answered that question.
“Oh, don’t
worry!” she told Louise. “I’m not going to attack her.”
Victoria
tentatively opened one eye. There was no fist on the way, so she
opened her other eye.
Chrissy stood
in front of Victoria, her hands on her hips. “I ought to hit you
again,” she said. “You do deserve it. You’re a daft, stupid,
destructive cow. But Jo getting killed wasn’t your fault. Well, not
really. You didn’t help, that’s all. But it wasn’t down to
you.”
Victoria was
both amazed and tearful. “But I did split her and Max up,” she
protested. “He would have walked her home if not. It was my
fault–”
“It was Max
that killed her!” Chrissy interrupted, her voice raised.
Victoria just
stared at her in shock, and Louise was heart-broken.
“Oh, no!” she
exclaimed. “Not Max? Not her own boyfriend?”
“Yes, Max!”
Chrissy snapped at her. “The wonderful Max who bought us drinks on
Friday night!”
Louise began to
cry, her hand pressed over her mouth. Victoria came out of her
temporary shock and put her arms around her, pulling her close.
Louise cried on her shoulder. Angela got up and quickly came over
to join them. She started to cry too, leaning on Louise’s
shoulder.
Chrissy was
filled with remorse for her harsh words. She slumped down in a
chair at a nearby desk. “Oh, bugger,” she muttered.
Victoria looked
sadly at Chrissy. “She dreaded the idea that it might be someone
she knew. I don’t think I really understood why until now. It’s
horrible.”
“Yeah,” Chrissy
said with a sigh. “The worse thing about it is that Jo really liked
him. She hadn’t stopped talking about him since she met him. She
even wanted me to go out with his brother. She had this weird idea
that we might have a double wedding. Soft cow.”
Louise and
Angela bawled out even louder, and the tears started to appear in
both Chrissy and Victoria’s eyes. Then other girls in the class
started to cry, and by the time the lecturer arrived with Mrs
Thorne, the flood-gates had well and truly opened.
The first
lecture of the day was hastily cancelled. The next was at eleven
o’clock. Mrs Thorne sent them all off to the refectory to recover
until then, hoping that the next lecture could get off to a better
start.
In the
refectory, Angela, Louise, Victoria and Chrissy all sat at a table
together. Louise and Angela had finally stopped crying, and they
had all bought a cup of coffee.
For a while
they talked about Jo. Chrissy had explained how she knew that Max
was the murderer. Victoria was still concerned that she had caused
them to argue, but both Louise and Chrissy pointed out that Jo had
been quick to find another boyfriend.
“He must have
seen them, and he got annoyed,” Chrissy said finally.
It was as
simple as that.
They were quiet
for a while after that. Quiet, and rather sad.
Chrissy looked
up at Victoria sitting opposite her with Louise. “You’ve cut your
hair,” she suddenly said.