Take Two (A psychological thriller) (12 page)

He walked around the side of the house. There was a large terrace at the rear of the building, with a barbecue area and a white circular cast iron table surrounded by half a dozen ornate matching chairs. Beyond it was a large swimming pool with a diving board and stretching into the distance were well-kept lawns dotted with trees.

There was a conservatory at the rear of the building with French windows.  Terry walked across the flagstones and tried the handle. To his surprise, the door opened. He stood still for a few seconds as he wondered what to do. If he entered the building, he was trespassing. But if he walked away, he and Carolyn would never know the truth. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. As he crossed the threshold, he saw a burglar alarm sensor close to the ceiling. As he stared at it a red light flashed and he flinched, expecting an alarm to go off, but nothing happened. He figured the sensors were on but the alarm hadn’t been armed.  There was a possibility that there was a silent alarm linked to a police station or a security company but they were in the middle of nowhere so even if the alarm was on, he figured he had enough time for a quick look around.

He walked through the kitchen into a double-height hallway and into the sitting room. It was pretty much as Carolyn had described it, except for the fact there was no sign of anyone having had their brains bashed in.  The floors were pine polished to a gleaming shine. He walked around and while there were several large crystal figurines, there was nothing resembling a dolphin.  He went over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and inspected the glass carefully. The glass was spotless. He frowned. Perhaps too spotless. He stood back and looked at the glass from an angle. It looked as if someone had polished parts of the window.  He knelt down and scrutinised the bottom of the frame. It too had been cleaned but he saw a small red spot near the floor. He licked his finger, pressed it against the spot and rubbed it. He removed his finger and stared at the red smear on the frame. Blood.

He stood up and looked around the floor. There was a very slight difference in the colour of the wood in front of the coffee table, more obvious at some angles than others. He moved his head from side to side as he stared at the polished boards. There had been a rug there, probably for many years.  The sun had lightened the exposed wood but not where it had been covered by the rug.

Terry’s heart was pounding and he could feel sweat beading in the small of his back. Carolyn hadn’t imagined it. Someone had been attacked in the room and it looked as if the body had been wrapped in a rug and taken away.

As he walked to the hallway, another alarm sensor’s red light winked on. There was a marble table in the hallway with half a dozen unopened envelopes on it. He looked through them. There was a gas bill, a mobile phone bill, and several circulars. He slipped the phone bill into his pocket and then went back out through the conservatory and let himself out. He closed the door behind him and hurried down the driveway.

He climbed over the gate and jogged over to the car. Carolyn got out, laughing. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a shady past, the way you shimmied over that gate,’ she said.

‘Darling, that was not a shimmy,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. The alarm sensor thingies were flashing red, there might be a phone link to the cops.’

He got into the driving seat while Carolyn walked around and got into the passenger side.  As they drove back to London, Terry told her what he’d seen in the house.

‘See, I wasn’t making it up,’ said Carolyn.

‘I didn’t think for one minute you were,’ said Terry. He handed her the envelope he’d taken from the hall.

‘Terry, bloody hell. You little thief.’

‘It’s a phone bill, darling, it’s not as if I stole the family jewels. It’ll tell us who lives in the house.’

Carolyn opened the envelope and slid out the bill. ‘Nicholas Cohen,’ she said. She frowned. ‘The thing is, is he the hitter or the hittee?’

‘The hittee?’

‘The guy that got hit. Was he Nicholas Cohen? Or was it Nicholas Cohen who was doing the hitting?’

‘That’s easy enough to find out,’ said Terry. ‘You just call his number. If he answers, he’s the killer.’

‘That’s what you think? That whoever got hit, died?’

‘If there was as much blood as you said there was, it sounds like it. Plus the missing rug suggests they took away a body.  You know, now’s the time we should call the police.’

‘And say what? I saw a crime while I was trespassing?’

‘What’s the alternative, pretend that it never happened?’

Carolyn waved the phone bill at him. ‘Let’s see who this Nicholas Cohen is, shall we? If he’s still alive then I need to get a look at him. If he’s the guy who I saw, then okay maybe we can go to the cops and they can arrest him. But if he’s the victim, then we need to think it through.’

‘Think what through?’

‘If I go to the cops, all I’ll have is a description of the killer. And if that gets out, then I won’t know who the killer is but the killer will know who I am and I don’t think I can live with that, Terry. I’ll be looking over my shoulder until they arrest the guy.  I’m the only witness, so if he’s killed once he’s not going to worry about doing it a second time, is he?’

‘Darling, I think you’re over-thinking it.’ He grinned. ‘But playing detective is good fun, so let’s give it a go. We can be like Dempsey and Makepeace.’

‘Now you’re really showing your age,’ laughed Carolyn. ‘That was thirty years ago.’

‘I watch the reruns on ITV3,’ said Terry. ‘Michael Brandon was fit back then.’

‘He’s still fit,’ said Carolyn. ‘He was in Hustle a few years back. And New Tricks.’

‘And Glynis just keeps on working. She did Emmerdale, EastEnders and The Royal.’

‘Bitch,’ laughed Terry.

‘Bloody right,’ said Carolyn. She laughed. ‘Actually that’s not fair, she’s a sweetie. But I wish I had her agent.’

CHAPTER 24

Terry drove back to his house and parked in the car park at the rear of the building. They went inside and up the stairs to the living area. ‘Wine?’ asked Terry.

‘I don’t see why not,’ said Carolyn, taking off her jacket and dropping down onto a sofa.

‘Red, white, pink?’

‘Surprise me,’ she said. She studied the phone bill that Terry had taken.  Nicholas Cohen used the phone a lot, dozens of time a day. Most of the calls were to other mobiles but there was one landline number in central London. She reached for Terry’s phone and began to tap out the number. An answering machine picked up. It was a firm of chartered accountants. Cohen and Kawczynski.

She was putting the phone back when Terry returned with a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses.  ‘Cohen’s an accountant,’ she said.

‘Nice,’ said Terry.

‘I’ll try calling his mobile.’

Terry put the wine and glasses on the coffee table, next to Carolyn’s award. ‘Do me a favour, darling, and don’t use my phone.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘Because if Mr Cohen is dead, I don’t want the cops asking why I was calling him. And if he’s a murderer I don’t want him having my number. I’ve got a pay-as-you go mobile, you can use that.’

He went over to a low sideboard, opened a drawer and took out an old Nokia phone. He saw the look of confusion on Carolyn’s face and he grinned.  ‘I did a bit of online dating before I met Gabe and I didn’t want to have my number out there. I was changing Sim cards every week or so.’

‘You slut,’ said Carolyn.

He tossed her the phone and she tapped out the number of Cohen’s mobile as Terry opened the wine. It went straight to voicemail and she put the phone down on the sofa. Terry sat down next to her and poured wine into the glasses. ‘We’re going to have to phone the police,’ he said. ‘The longer we leave it, the angrier the cops are going to be.’

‘We don’t know he’s dead,’ said Carolyn. ‘For all we know they took him to hospital.’

‘Darling, they shot at you, you said.’

‘I heard a bang.’ She sipped her wine and shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Terry, it’s starting to feel a bit fuzzy.’

‘What?’

‘I’d been drinking. A lot. It was dark.’

‘Are you telling me you might have imagined it. Because last night you were scared shitless. Remember?’

‘I remember. But in the cold light of day it all seems a bit…remote.’

‘Remote?’

Carolyn sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Darling, we drove all the way to the arse end of nowhere and I proceeded to do a spot of breaking and entering, and now you’re telling me you made the whole thing up?’

‘I’m not saying that,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want to call the police and have the whole thing blow up in my face. What say we call Cohen’s office on Monday and see if he’s in?’

‘You said you saw him belted with a statue. That’s what you said. And there was blood, by the window.’

Carolyn nodded. ‘I know, I know. But can we just leave it until Monday, please?’

‘If that’s what you want, sure. But whether he’s in the office on Monday or not, we’re no further forward, are we? If he is there that suggests he’s the guy who did the hitting. And if he’s not…’  He left the sentence unfinished.

‘Then he’s dead,’ said Carolyn.

Terry nodded. ‘Either way we’re going to have to call the police.’

Carolyn shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ said Carolyn. ‘This is an important couple of weeks for me, maybe the most important of my life. If the network decides to give me the push then my life’s over.’

‘Don’t be silly, that’s not going to happen.’

‘You don’t know that,’ said Carolyn. ‘Waites as good as said they were going to bring in new blood, and if I go to the cops and tell them about him taking drugs and kicking me out of the car in the middle of nowhere, then the network is going to be gunning for me.’

‘I thought you said you stormed off.’

Carolyn forced a smile. ‘Six of one,’ she said. ‘But either way he’s going to be in trouble. Plus the publicity. Plus I then become a witness in a murder investigation.’ She took a long gulp of wine. ‘I can’t, Terry. Really, I can’t.’

Terry nodded sympathetically. ‘Okay, whatever you think’s best. Do you want to stay here tonight?’

‘Do you mind?’

‘Of course not. Gabe was planning to do his famous chili tonight, the more the merrier.’

‘You’re my knight in shining armour.’

‘And I’m here to serve my damsel in distress,’ said Terry, raising his glass to her.

CHAPTER 25

Terry drove Carolyn to the studio early on Monday morning. She had phoned Billy on Sunday night and told him she wouldn’t need him until filming had wrapped on Monday. She spent an hour in make-up and was all too well aware of how tired she looked.  ‘Rough night?’ asked Kelly as she brushed concealer over the dark patches under Carolyn’s eyes.

‘Drinking wine with Terry,’ said Carolyn.

‘That’ll do it, all right,’ laughed Kelly.

Carolyn forced a smile. It wasn’t the drink that was the problem, it was the fact she’d barely slept all night.

The first scenes to be filmed were in the office where Diana was interviewing a new designer, a pretty black girl who, according to Harrington, it would later turn out, had a drug problem and an abusive boyfriend.  The actress was clearly inexperienced and kept fluffing her lines, but Carolyn kept her cool and was as helpful as possible.  It wasn’t that the actress hadn’t memorized her lines, she was just nervous.  After the sixth take on one relatively simple exchange, Carolyn took her to one side. ‘You’re over-thinking it,’ she said. ‘I can see the wheels turning.’

‘I’m just so nervous,’ said the girl. Her name was Jaymee and Carolyn noticed her nails were bitten to the quick.

‘It can be intimidating joining a new team,’ said Carolyn. ‘But everyone here is rooting for you.’

Jaymee nodded. ‘I know, I’m sorry.’

‘There’s no need to apologise,’ said Carolyn. ’We’ve all been there. Is this your first time in a studio?’

Jaymee nodded again. ‘This big, yeah,’ she said. ‘I’ve done loads of commercials but this is Rags To Riches, you know? The big time.’

Carolyn smiled and patted Jaymee on the arm. ‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘But just remember this. You’re stunning, you really are. You look fabulous. The guys who are watching are going to be looking at your figure and the women are going to be looking at your clothes. So you don’t have to act. Just relax and we’ll have a conversation. Keep your eyes on me and you’ll do just fine.’

‘Okay, let’s go again!’ shouted Harrington.

Carolyn winked at Jaymee and went back to sit behind her desk.  Jaymee stood on her mark, holding a large folder under one arm. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed,

The scene went perfectly and after Harrington had pronounced himself satisfied, Jaymee went over to Carolyn and gave her hug. ‘I owe you, big time,’ she said.

‘I got the same advice years ago, when I first started,’ said Carolyn. ‘And I’ve no doubt the day will come when you’ll be giving the same words of comfort to a youngster on their first day. The circle of life thing.’

Hannah from the wardrobe department came over and apologized for interrupting. ‘I’ve got five minutes to get you into the outfit for scene 76,’ she said to Carolyn. ‘And the zips are a bugger.’

It was eleven o’clock before Carolyn had some time to herself.  Harrington was set to film a scene with Seb and Andrea and she wouldn’t be needed for a couple of hours. She dropped her bag and coat in her dressing room then walked along the corridor to Paul Day’s office. The producer’s office was the farthest away from the sets with a window overlooking the car park.  His assistant, Laura, a pretty blonde in her twenties, was sitting at the outer office. ‘Can I have a few minutes with him?’ she asked.

‘He’s a bit grumpy today, too much wine last night, I think,’ said Laura. ‘So no loud noises or sudden moves.’

Carolyn laughed. ‘I’ll be gentle with him,’ she said.

She knocked softly on the door to Day’s office and pushed it open.

Day stood up when he saw her. ‘Come in, darling,’ he said. ‘I was planning on swinging by the set. How’s it going?’

‘All good,’ said Carolyn.

Day was wearing one of his Savile Row, made-to-measure suits but he’d lost weight recently and the jacket hung loosely as he stood up and walked around his desk to greet her.  He hugged her and air-kissed her dramatically. ‘And well done again on the award. It’s not every day you get a lifetime achievement award, is it?’