Taunting the Dead (21 page)

This morning as she’d seen Steph Ryder’s body for the first time, before she was even identified as Steph Ryder, Allie took pity on her. It was hard not to in her line of work. Apart from sharing a table with the couple last Tuesday evening, she hardly knew anything about Steph. For all she knew, she could have been drinking too much due to nerves. A big charity event such as that took some organising. There was bound to be more than a little stress involved in getting everything just so.

Steph Ryder could be a doting mum with a loving husband and a grade one marriage to boot, but after their investigations dug beneath the surface it wouldn’t take long to get a completely different picture. Even now, she was beginning to form her own. And it wasn’t pleasant.

She moved inside Starbucks for a moment and sat down while she made a few notes in her pad. There would be a list of people to question who could have seen Steph Ryder out last night. There were people in the town as well as at The Potter’s Wheel. There was the rest of the staff at The Orange Grove. Christ, for all she knew, there could have been the whole of the city centre while she was out walking from one pub to another last night. At least CCTV should have monitored most of that.

Allie took one last flick through her notepad before putting it away and heading back into the crowds and up the escalator to the next floor. There was so much to check over but they would get to it all eventually.

After going back to the station to her team, it was past midnight when Allie finally got home on the first day of the case. She half expected Mark to rush at her, telling her to keep away from Terry Ryder, but the house was silent. He’d already gone to bed. She listened at the bottom of the stairs. If he was awake, he would shout to her. He didn’t.

In the kitchen, she made a mug of coffee but couldn’t drink it. She couldn’t rid herself of that awful image of Steph Ryder. From one side of the body, one blue eye stared back at her. From the other side, she hadn’t even been able to make out an eye. There was so much pulp. She shuddered.

Allie hardly ever knew the murder victims. On the odd occasion she did, it was usually because they were already known to the police. Steph Ryder was in a bracket of her own. Allie didn’t know her but she felt as though she did. And she would definitely know her inside out by the time the enquiry had finished.

What happened to you, Steph Ryder? She hoped she’d find out soon.

Giving up on the coffee, she tipped it away, locked up and went up to bed. As she brushed her teeth in the bathroom, Mark appeared in the doorway behind her. His eyes full of sleep, his hair stuck to the side of his head, he yawned and leaned on the frame.

‘It was all over the news,’ he spoke to her through the mirror.

Allie spit out the toothpaste. Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘It was nasty, Mark.’

He came behind and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in his masculinity. She moulded herself into him and gazed at him through the mirror.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘Not too many bad thoughts of Karen?’

She shook her head. Keeping busy with the case meant she hadn’t time to remember too much. ‘I’m sorry about this evening. Were Ruth and Chris okay about it?’

‘Don’t worry.’ Mark kissed her on the cheek. ‘I ended up rescheduling it, for a fortnight’s time. And then I fell asleep on the sofa at eight.’

They shared a faint smile.

‘I bet he did it,’ he added. ‘It’s always the husband in these types of cases.’

Surprised that he wasn’t telling her to come off the case, Allie went with the flow. It was good that he was trying to make light of the situation. She paused.

‘Mark, I –’

‘Shush,’ Mark told her. ‘I said I trusted you. That’s all you need to know.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

It was nearly seven when Allie headed back into work on Sunday morning after having only a few hours sleep. She wanted to get her head around things and see what had come in overnight.

She swiped her card to get into the police station and made her way up two flights of stairs. Nick and the team were crammed into the corner of an open plan office. As she walked the corridor created by the backs of the blue screens that separated the teams, she caught sight of the whiteboards ahead and the map of the city, a black circle around the area where the murder had taken place. The photo of Steph Ryder’s body was blu-tacked onto the white background. Even now, the sight of a body could reduce Allie to tears. What right did anyone have to violate or kill another human being? What right had anyone to take a life by bashing someone’s brain in? She wanted that board full of leads soon.

During murder enquiries of this size, the team would get together at the beginning and end of each shift and swap details. Sometimes this was when “eureka!” moments happened and a vital piece of the puzzle would slot into place. Other times, like now, at the beginning of a new case, it was a catch-up among Nick, Allie and the staff she managed.

Saying good morning, she sat at her desk and scrabbled around in the drawer for her emergency bar of chocolate that was replaced every two or three days. She bit into it and sighed with relish, wondering if any new leads had come in overnight. She soon found out as Nick came out of his office beside hers and joined them all a few minutes later. He stood up as he went over the events from the day before. Apart from the buzz of a few computers, the floor was quiet. Matt and Perry perched on the end of Allie’s desk. Sam had wheeled her chair to the edge of hers.

Nick updated them on their findings after informing Terry Ryder of his wife’s murder, visiting The Orange Grove and the beauty salon. Allie updated them on her visits to the places Steph Ryder had been shopping and what she wanted them to follow up on.

‘Have you started doing door-to-door enquiries?’ Nick asked Matt and Perry.

Matt nodded. ‘We’ve spoken to the bar staff and the landlord and they gave us as many names as they could. Obviously it won’t include everyone so there’s an appeal going out on local radio. Loads of people have come forward for now, so we’ll be getting to as many of them as we can.’

‘Allie, I want you to head back to the Ryders’ residence. I want you to interview Terry again, and his daughter. Go over everything with him. Sam, I want you to go too.’

‘Sir.’ Sam nodded.

‘I need you both to be on your best behaviour,’ he continued. ‘The DI wants us to keep this low level. He doesn’t want anything to get in the way of the full investigation that’s going on.’ Nick raised a hand. ‘I know, I know. It sounds terrible, like we don’t give a toss. But I want to catch Ryder off guard if I can. Let him think we’re not doing much while we look into everything. I just need you two to tread carefully. See if you can worm anything out of him.’

Ah, Allie understood now. That was why Nick hadn’t wanted to chase up the family liaison officer. She glanced surreptitiously at Sam and they shared a secret smirk. Throughout the years they’d often been used to get close to people, victims and suspects. But Allie wasn’t quite as keen this time. Womanly charms were all well and good but not when Allie broke out into an embarrassing hot sweat every time she got near to the person she was questioning.

Nick clasped his hands and then rubbed them together. ‘Right for now, that’s it. There’s plenty to do but we’ll start on the mundane things and see where they lead us. Twenty-four hours in – let’s see if we can solve this thing in forty-eight.’

After a restless night, Phil left his house to head off to see Terry. He couldn’t put it off for a minute longer. He needed to tell him that, despite what he must think, he hadn’t taken any part in Steph’s murder. Then he’d go and see Shaun.

As he was getting into his car, his phone rang. It was Kenny Webb.

‘Where’s the knife?’

‘You have it. Don’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t be asking if I did.’

Phil paused momentarily. The knife had gone when he’d checked in the outhouse yesterday. ‘You must have it!’

‘It wasn’t there. Did you tell anyone else about it?’

‘No one. You did look in the right place? Second drawer of the dresser?’

‘Yeah, there was nothing there.’

‘But I put it there!’

‘Well, it’s not –’

Phil disconnected the call and threw his phone down onto the passenger seat. The last thing he needed was grief from Kenny Webb. And despite the urgency, he didn’t have time to work out who the fuck had the knife. It would have to wait.

Unbeknown to her dad, Kirstie had gone out that morning on the pretence of picking up Ashleigh and coming straight back again. But instead, she’d gone off route to see Lee. She’d had to knock him up out of bed and he’d been none too pleased.

‘I can’t believe I’ve been more or less grounded,’ Kirstie stropped as she sat next to him on the settee. ‘Once I pick Ashleigh up, I’ve got to go straight back home for when the police arrive again. I suppose they’ll interrogate me. Can’t see what they can find out though, when I was here with you all night.’

‘You can’t tell them that.’ Lee turned to her sharply.

‘Why not?’

‘Your dad will go barmy. I’ll never get to see you again.’

Kirstie gave him a huge grin. ‘Aw, that’s really sweet. I’ve already told them I stayed at Ashleigh’s.’

Lee gave her a faint smile back. He wasn’t doing it to be sweet. He was doing it to keep the police off his back. It was all well and good to think that Kirstie could be his alibi but it would be better if no one knew he was with her at all. Then the police wouldn’t have any reason to question him. He wasn’t at The Potter’s Wheel so he wouldn’t be on any list to be questioned. And if he wasn’t questioned, he couldn’t slip up. For now, he had to act natural so that Kirstie didn’t suspect anything either.

‘Why do you need to bring Ashleigh back to your house? I thought you said you’d be staying with her.’

‘That’s what my dad told the police so we didn’t have some stupid family liaison officer breathing down our necks. It’s bad enough that we both have all this finger-pointing going on without having someone there to watch our every move.’

‘Are they saying you’re a suspect?’ Lee was intrigued.

‘I fucking hope not.’ Kirstie shook her head. ‘I’m pissed off with all the attention already. It’s interfering with things. Us for starters. I can’t just nip out and see you now.’

Lee frowned. Kirstie didn’t seem in the slightest bit bothered that her mother had been murdered. All she seemed to care about was the effect it had on her. How her life would change. How the attention had been shifted from her, he reckoned. He hadn’t realised quite how self-centred she was.

‘I thought you said you hated her,’ he said.

‘I didn’t mean it!’ Kirstie sounded exasperated. ‘I put on a great act when the police came over yesterday, though, to take them off the scent.’

‘The scent of what?’

‘Dur. Are you fucking listening to me? If they realise how much I don’t like her, I could become prime suspect. Are you sure I can’t say I was here?’ She moved closer and kissed him.

But Lee couldn’t lose himself in the moment. All he could think of was getting her away from him and his house.

‘You need to go,’ he said, pushing her away.

‘Why?’ Kirstie looked on in surprise.

‘You talking about motive made me remember.’ He jumped to his feet, grabbed her arm and practically dragged her across the room. ‘She nearly caved my fucking head in the other day, with a cricket bat.’

‘She was drunk.’ Kirstie understood his panic now. ‘She wouldn’t have remembered. Besides, only we know about that. And I’m certainly not going to say anything.’

‘You better not.’

‘What is wrong with you all of a sudden?’ Kirstie tried to pull her arm away.

‘I don’t want you leading the police to my door. If they search this place, they’ll find no end of knock-off gear. I’ll be sent down in an instant.’

‘Relax. I won’t say anything.’

‘Too risky.’ They were at the front door now. He opened it and pushed her out. ‘I’ll call you later, yeah?’

‘But you’re not making sense! Lee. I –’

Lee sighed with relief once he’d closed the door. Fuck, that had been close. If anyone saw them together, the police would come and question him. He knew they’d get to him eventually but he’d be better to stay away from her for a while. At least until the rest of his plan fell into place.

Terry stood in the bay window of The Gables, staring out over the front garden to the open fields and beyond. Hands deep in trouser pockets, he thought back to the events of the previous day. Acting all grief-stricken in front of the police had been a doddle. Part of it had been true, anyway. It had taken him by surprise when he’d become emotional after identifying Steph’s body. Seeing her had made it real. He’d actually questioned whether it had been worthwhile for a moment, until coming to his senses. Kirstie had sobbed uncontrollably, to the point that he’d wondered whether or not to sedate her. She seemed better this morning, though, almost as if it had washed over her during the night.

Coming back to an empty house had been surreal. He’d walked around for a while not knowing what to do. There had been people to ring, messages left on the answer machine as the news filtered through. And then Carole had turned up with Shaun, saying that she would look after him. As if he couldn’t handle it, the stupid cow. But he’d played along, played the grieving husband. Had them completely fooled, even though grief wasn’t the whole reason Carole was there.

But he still hadn’t heard from Phil; neither had Shane nor Mitch, who were supposed to be cleaning up any mess. He’d tried again several times this morning too, on the pay-as-you-go phone, but nothing. He knew Phil would be laying low until the police had gone but it was a mystery why he hadn’t called to see him yesterday evening. A mystery he intended to solve as quickly as possible.

Still, there had been something good about yesterday. It had brought Allie Shenton to his door. Terry could recall every detail about that. The black trouser suit that smacked of authority, the sharp white of her shirt, the neckline open suggestively to allow a little manoeuvre for flirting. Her eyes, pools of lust that she’d tried to hide away from him. She was his for the taking, he was sure. He’d seen enough of her now to realise the change in her skin tone was down to the way he looked at her. She was a good-looking woman, one he’d be happy to have on his arm, or over the kitchen table, any time she was ready. She was due back this morning. He wondered if she would come alone this time.