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Authors: Mark Billingham

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THIRTY-EIGHT

There were the usual pleasantries exchanged at the Dunnings’ front door. Kisses were given, some of which actually made contact
with skin. Wine and flowers were handed over and gratefully received. The visitors made admiring comments about the hallway’s
original features: the black and white Victorian tiles on the floor; the elaborate coving; the dado rail.

Barry nodded and said, ‘You’d be amazed how many times people have paid me to rip stuff like this out.’

‘People are idiots,’ Ed said.

‘Barry’s got a nice little sideline selling that stuff on to reclamation yards,’ Angie said. ‘Haven’t you, love?’

They moved through to a sitting room that was actually two rooms divided by floor-to-ceiling doors, which had been opened
for the evening. The dining table had been laid at the end of the room that was nearest the garden.

‘This is gorgeous,’ Marina said.

Sue shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’d love to have a kitchen that was big enough to eat in,’ she said. ‘One of these days we
might be able to get something like Barry and Angie have got.’

‘Well you know where to come,’ Angie said, nudging Barry.

Dave looked at Ed. ‘I reckon you need to sell a few more books.’

Ed said nothing and instead made a show of opening a bottle of Cava while Sue fetched glasses. Angie did not see the label
and said, ‘Blimey, champagne. Someone’s pushing the boat out.’

Marina poked Dave in the side and said, ‘You’re driving …’

While the glasses were filled, they talked about their respective journeys to Southgate. Though the M23 had been busy, Angie
and Barry had still managed to get there from Crawley in about the same time as Marina and Dave had driven up from Forest
Hill.

‘I don’t get into London very often,’ Angie said. She exchanged a look with Barry. ‘I always forget how bad the traffic is.’

They moaned about London for a while. It was dirty and expensive and the crime had reached ridiculous proportions. Sue and
Ed tried to defend their decision to live where they did, but admitted to having been burgled three times in five years. Marina
and Dave had only been done once, but it had been messy, Marina said, pulling a face.

‘Why do people do that?’ Ed asked. ‘Why don’t they just take what they want then bugger off and buy their drugs? Why do they
have to piss on your bed, or whatever?’

‘Maybe they’re on drugs when they do it,’ Marina said.

‘Still, not as bad as in America,’ Angie said. ‘All that shooting and what have you.’

They all nodded, looked at their glasses.

What have you

‘To good friends,’ Ed said, raising his glass.

They drank and there were a few seconds of awkward silence afterwards.

‘So, what’s the latest?’ Sue asked.

Angie saw that Sue was looking at her and pointed at herself. ‘Me?’

‘I just thought you were looking out for news on the internet. We count on you to keep us up to date.’

‘Oh … well, nothing new,’ Angie said.

‘And we’ve not heard any more from that woman,’ Dave said. ‘Have you? What was her name?’

Angie, Barry and Sue shook their heads.

‘Quinlan,’ Ed said.

‘Oh well, it looks like we’re all off the hook,’ Angie said, laughing.

Marina had drifted across to the built-in bookshelves either side of the fireplace and was scanning the titles, her head cocked.
‘Dave and I would love to get somewhere a bit more like this,’ she said. She turned back to Sue with a cheeky grin. ‘Any chance
we could see the rest of the place?’

‘Help yourself,’ Sue said. ‘I just need to keep an eye on dinner.’

‘You sure?’

‘It’s nothing fancy by the way. Not in Angie’s league.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be lovely,’ Angie said.

‘I’ll do it,’ Ed said. His hand was on Sue’s backside. ‘Even I can manage to chuck some spaghetti in a pan.’ He gave her a
little push towards the door. ‘You show Marina and Angie upstairs.’

In the kitchen, Dave and Barry stood with their drinks watching Ed grate cheese and chop bacon.

‘We’ll make a new man of you yet,’ Dave said.

Barry laughed, then said, ‘I told Angie about the girls’ night out. The one she wasn’t invited to.’

Ed stood there with the knife in his hand. ‘Nothing to do with me, mate.’

‘I know. I just thought you should know that she knows.’

‘Great.’ Ed went back to his chopping.

‘She won’t say anything.’ Barry stepped closer to him. ‘You know, she’s got better things to worry about. I mean obviously
she’s
far
too busy on the internet all day long.’

Ed turned round again. Looked at Dave.

‘I don’t think Sue meant anything by that,’ Dave said.

Barry was still looking at Ed. ‘Well, it sounded to me like she was
suggesting Angie sits there glued to the internet like some sad old mare, looking for stuff about dead girls or whatever because
it’s so much more interesting than the life she’s got at home. You know, that’s what it sounded like …’

‘She didn’t mean that,’ Ed said.

‘I definitely didn’t get that impression,’ Dave said.

‘Sue hasn’t got a bad bone in her body,’ Ed said. ‘And trust me, I’ve tried to find it.’


I
thought she was trying to be nice,’ Dave said.

Barry downed what was left of his wine. He nodded slowly and said, ‘Yeah, sorry. Not had a great day, that’s all.’

Dave pointed at the plaster on Barry’s hand. ‘Yeah, what the hell have you been doing to yourself?’

‘Good question.’ Ed wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. ‘My money’s on some sort of extreme wanking accident.’

Barry’s spluttered laughter was all the more explosive as he was clearly doing his best not to react. He gave Ed a thumbs-up
and asked if he could have a beer.

The girls were in Sue and Ed’s bedroom.

Marina and Angie made it clear how much they admired the arrangement of cushions on the bed and the painted shutters at the
window. They both said how much they adored the small walk-in wardrobe; Ed’s shirts all hung in a row and arranged by colour,
Sue’s bags and shoes laid out neatly on shelves.

They walked across to study a display of framed photographs arranged on a dressing table. There were pictures of two older
couples they presumed were Ed and Sue’s parents. There were pictures of Ed posing with a trophy in his tennis gear, of Sue
and a group of children in uniform. There were several of Ed on beaches or lounging in a sunny garden, showing off the body
they had got used to seeing around the pool at the Pelican Palms Resort.

‘Lovely photos,’ Angie said.

Behind them, Sue opened a drawer in her bedside table and when
Marina and Angie turned around, she was holding a small silver frame with another photograph inside.

She passed it to Marina.

A young girl with long blonde hair and an awkward smile.

‘That’s Emma,’ Sue said. ‘My daughter.’

They both looked at her, eyes fixed as though knowing they had to avoid looking at one another. ‘I didn’t know you had any
children,’ Angie said.

‘She died,’ Sue said. Nice and simple. ‘Six years ago … nearly seven. She was thirteen.’

‘God, I’m sorry,’ Marina said.

‘There’s no need.’

Angie shook her head. ‘How …?’

‘Leukaemia.’ Sue saw Angie look past her at the drawer from which she had taken the picture. ‘Ed can’t bear having any photos
around.’ She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘I think … for some people a photo reminds them of what they had, but for others
… for Ed, it’s all about what they’ve lost. He still can’t come to terms with it, not really. That’s why he breezes through
life telling his stupid jokes and showing off, but he still wakes up in tears sometimes. Or I hear him, from another room.
They were very close. That whole daddy–daughter thing …’

Angie sat down on the bed beside her. ‘Did you not try and have any more kids?’

‘Yes, we tried.’ Nice and simple again. ‘But you take what’s given you, don’t you.’ She took the photograph back from Marina
and looked at it. ‘She was really sporty, just like Ed, and outgoing. I know no parent ever says anything bad about their
own child. You never hear anyone saying, “She was thick as a plank” or whatever, but I honestly believe she was a special
kid.’

‘I’m sure she was,’ Angie said.

‘Maybe it’s the special ones that get taken early.’ She turned and stared at Angie, serious. ‘Don’t waste a day with your
kids, not even a second.’ She glanced up at Marina. ‘You too, because I know that you
and Dave are going to have some.’ She sniffed. ‘God, look at me. I haven’t cried over Emma for ages …’

She stood up, placed the picture carefully back in the drawer and took a tissue from a box on top of the bedside table. ‘Please
don’t say anything to Ed.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Marina said.

She hugged each of them and said, ‘I’m really glad we were all there at the same time. In Florida, I mean. I think we were
so
lucky. You never know, do you, when you meet people like that, on holiday. It’s a lottery, isn’t it?’ She laughed and said,
‘They might turn out to be your worst nightmare.’ She looked from one to the other then nodded and reached for the door. ‘Right,
come on. Let’s go and see what kind of a pig’s ear Ed’s made of dinner.’

The spaghetti carbonara was a big hit and there were cheers when Sue brought dessert out.

‘I bloody love tiramisu,’ Marina said. ‘Not too good for my waistline, mind you, but what the hell.’ She smiled when Dave
leaned across and began to stroke the back of her neck.

‘Before anyone asks, it’s from the supermarket,’ Sue said. She began serving it into bowls. ‘I put it into this dish and I
thought
about lying, but I’m not sure I’d have got away with it.’

‘I wouldn’t have said anything anyway,’ Angie said.

‘It literally means “pick me up”,’ Dave announced, taking his bowl.

‘What?’ Barry asked.

‘In Italian. That’s what “tiramisu” means. I think it’s because of the booze, which is usually Marsala wine, but you can also
use rum or cognac.’

‘Where d’you learn all this stuff?’

‘I don’t know.’ Dave started eating. ‘Just know it.’

There were grunts of approval as everyone tucked in. Ed was busy refilling glasses where needed. They had already put away
three bottles of wine and this despite the fact that Sue and Dave were barely drinking. They began talking about a sex scandal
involving a politician who
had resigned to spend more time with his family. Ed said that was the excuse they always gave.

‘Maybe it’s true,’ Marina said.

‘No smoke without fire,’ Ed said.

Sue got up to fetch another bottle and, as she passed his chair, Ed slid an arm around her waist and asked her to see if she
could dig out ‘a cheeky little number’ from the ‘cellar’.

That made Angie laugh. ‘I like cheeky numbers,’ she said.

Barry had been staring at Dave ever since the lecture on Italian cuisine and language. ‘Come on then. Why don’t you tell everyone
what you told that copper?’

‘Oh, come on, mate,’ Ed said. ‘We don’t want to get into all that.’

‘Seeing as you seem to know so much,’ Barry said.

‘All what?’ Angie asked.

‘Oh, Dave here has got all these theories about what happened to that girl, what the killer did to her, all that.’

‘I never talked about anything like that,’ Dave said.

‘He really didn’t,’ Marina said.

Ed pushed his empty bowl away and threw up his hands. ‘Why can’t we just stick with the pervy politician?’

‘What do you mean, talking to that copper?’ Angie asked.

‘He reckons she was asking him what he thought,’ Barry said. ‘Like he was some kind of police consultant or something.’

‘Go on then,’ Angie said.

‘Please don’t get him started on all that.’ Marina shook her head.

‘I’d like to hear it.’

‘I just said …’ Dave put his spoon down. ‘I just said that I thought she was abducted in a car and that she was probably killed
quickly.’

‘Why quickly?’ Angie asked.

‘It’s more likely, that’s all.’

Sue came back in with the wine. ‘What have I missed?’

Ed nodded to Dave. ‘Detective Dave’s on the case,’ he said. ‘Giving us his theories.’

‘They’re talking about Amber-Marie,’ Angie said, as Sue sat down.

‘All right then,’ Sue said.

‘So, why wouldn’t he keep her for a while?’ Ed asked. ‘You know, have some fun with her?’

Marina said, ‘
Fun?

Ed shrugged. ‘I’m just trying to think like the killer.’ Sue looked at him and he pointed at Dave. ‘Listen, he started this.’

‘Even so,’ Sue said.

‘I’ll do what I want,’ Ed said. ‘All right?’

Sue smiled.

‘I never suggested talking about this,’ Dave said. ‘I’m perfectly happy not to.’

Angie leaned towards him. Said, ‘Isn’t it usually some kind of sex thing?’

‘The police could tell,’ Barry said. ‘DNA or whatever.’

‘No.’ Dave shook his head. ‘She was in the water for weeks, so there wouldn’t have been any forensic evidence worth talking
about.’

‘Surely they could get something,’ Angie said. ‘Like on CSI, I mean they’ve got all this amazing equipment these days, haven’t
they?’

‘That’s just a TV show,’ Dave said. ‘All that time in the water, there wouldn’t have been much of her worth testing. You’d
be amazed at what water can do to a body, what it looks like afterwards. Plus there’s all the wildlife out there. Crabs and
possums and all that. Insects and scavengers helping themselves to what was left of her.’ He saw the look on Marina’s face.
‘They asked me …’

‘So, if it wasn’t sexual,’ Sue said, ‘why was she taken? What was the motive?’

Dave shrugged. ‘Sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.’

‘What’s that in English money?’ Ed asked, grinning. ‘About forty grand?’

‘Not knowing the motive’s what makes him difficult to catch,’ Dave said.

‘So, is he a serial killer then?’ Angie asked. ‘Somebody who’s done this thing before?’

‘I reckon so.’ Dave sniffed. ‘And somebody who’s likely to do it again.’

BOOK: Rush of Blood
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