The Catch (32 page)

For all his rage, Martin hadn’t actually laid a finger on her. She had to focus on that, and on the fact that she’d been more than willing to fight back if he had tried anything.

But it was the
What ifs
that disturbed her. The simple fact of his physical size and strength, compared to hers, made it all too easy to imagine the damage he could have inflicted.

She was adamant about one thing. Martin would never again set foot inside her house.

Was that sufficient? She brooded on it while she showered. Didn’t she owe it to Janine to warn her about Martin’s behaviour? The woman was carrying his baby. Cate knew from her friends how weeks of sleepless nights could turn even the most devoted parent into a near-psychopath. Maybe Martin should look into some anger-management treatment.

She got dressed, poured a glass of cranberry juice and decided she was too churned up to want breakfast. Fortunately she hadn’t planned on a busy day, although her mum had phoned yesterday and suggested some retail therapy. It was a fairly regular occurrence, so the alarm bells hadn’t rung until Teresa said: ‘You seeing much of Robbie?’

Cate had answered vaguely, wondering what he’d done to arouse Mum’s suspicion. In her current mood Cate was tempted to come clean about the whole business with Hank O’Brien.

She gathered up her dirty laundry and put a wash on, then made for the lounge. In the hall, her attention was drawn to the spot where Martin had virtually pinned her to the wall. There was a shallow indentation where he had thumped it, a few tiny cracks in the top layer of plaster.

Once she’d put the TV on and sat down, she felt ready to take a look at her phone. She’d turned it off after Martin left, fearing the evening could succumb to a not unfamiliar pattern where her ex-husband was concerned: after the temper tantrum, the inevitable remorse and whiny self-justification.

Sure enough, there were a string of missed calls, as well as a couple of voicemail messages, but all from an unfamiliar landline number.

Maybe not Martin, then. But who ...?

Hank O’Brien, from beyond the grave
.

****

Cate laughed. ‘Fool,’ she said, and called up her voicemail.

It was Martin, after all, phoning from his brother’s home in Burgess Hill. He was staying the night there, having told Janine they were going fishing early on Saturday.

‘So I’ve got the whole day free,’ he said. ‘If you pick this up in the morning, please ring me. We’ll meet somewhere neutral and talk about this like adults. I can change, Cate. I can be whoever you want me to be.’

Oh, please
. It didn’t help that he was pissed, his voice slurred, stumbling over the words.

The next message was even worse. Half a minute of sobbing into the phone, then a string of desperate pleas: ‘I’m so sorry. I love you, Cate. Please give me another chance.’ A long silence. She was about to ring off when his voice returned, small and distant, as if surfacing from the depths: ‘You know what? If I thought I could never be with you again, I’d kill myself.’

****

Dan emerged from his meeting to find the showroom in one of its manic phases, quite typical for a Saturday, when a couple of dozen customers would simultaneously demand service. An hour from now the shop might be deserted.

But it meant there was no opportunity to dwell on the conversation with Denham – and, more importantly, no time to enlighten Hayley. After giving advice on one of the complicated cash-back arrangements that manufacturers loved to foist on retailers, he encountered that rarest of creatures: the dream customer. This was a man in his thirties who enquired about, chose and then purchased a two-grand television and surround-sound system. He paid on a debit card and was in and out within ten minutes.

By the time the rush eased off, there was no sign of Hayley. Dan hadn’t a clue what he was going to tell her. Somehow try to reassure her that her job was safe, without revealing anything of Denham’s rather astute take on their relationship.

He waylaid a colleague, Grace, and asked if she’d seen Hayley. She looked confused.

‘Yeah, she needed to swap lunch with me. She said you’d okayed it.’

Dan gave an idiotic grin. ‘Yes, I did. Silly me.’

Curiosity led him to check the car park. Hayley’s Corsa was gone. He returned to the shop floor, plagued by a deep unease. He passed Grace as she was paging through the channels on a 50-inch TV. For a second the e-fits were on display, rendered in enormous detail. Dan’s heart gave a stutter. Grace was staring straight at them.

She’s going to recognise me. There’s no way she can fail to see the resemblance ...

But Grace didn’t frown. She didn’t turn and accuse him of being a hunted criminal. She went on paging through the channels, and there was no let-up in her sales patter.

For the first time Dan experienced a twinge of hope. A couple more days and the media would lose interest. The e-fits would be forgotten. The world would move on.

****

Cate busied herself with domestic chores, paid some bills online and transferred money into her current account. She decided it might be prudent to leave her credit cards at home this afternoon. Although her mother was extremely careful with the business finances, she often encouraged Cate to splash out, in a way that implied her daughter’s life was lacking somehow.

She still wasn’t hungry, but consumed a bowl of Cheerios to tide her over. She’d kept her phone on, despite her misgivings, and it buzzed as she was putting the bowl into the dishwasher. The number was familiar: DS Thomsett.

Cate took a deep breath. ‘Hello?’

‘Ah. Is it a bad time?’

‘What? Oh no. Sorry.’

‘No, don’t apologise. This is, uh, Guy Thomsett. The, er, police officer ...’

‘Yes, I know.’ Her mouth was dry.
What had he found out?

‘This isn’t an official call. I wondered if you happened to be free tonight, and if you are, whether I could take you to dinner somewhere?’

‘Oh.’

‘Sorry. I appreciate that it’s short notice. You’re probably busy ...’

No comment
. ‘Can you guarantee that DC Avery won’t be coming along?’

He chuckled. ‘You haven’t warmed to him, then?’

‘As it happens, no.’

‘Hmm. Not many people do. He’s good at his job, though. Tenacious.’

Cate went cold. Was this another warning?

Thomsett went on, ‘Definitely just the two of us. I had in mind the Indonesian place in Pool Valley. Warung Tujuh.’

‘Oh, I know that one. It’s fantastic.’

Silence. It seemed like a startled silence.

‘So ... is that a “yes”, then?’ he asked.

There was no mistaking the surprise in her own voice when Cate said: ‘I think it is.’

Robbie chatted easily with Cheryl as they toured the house. She’d already demonstrated that she had a finely tuned bullshit-detector, which encouraged him to shrug off his professional persona and let his natural charm do its work.

Aside from some minor redecoration, the place was just as he remembered it. Cheryl explained that her brother’s employers had been in to retrieve paperwork and computers, and she’d be back at various times over the next couple of weeks to sort through his personal possessions. The property would be rented furnished, as before.

‘I assume you can show it to prospective tenants in the meantime?’ she said.

‘No problem. The top end of the market is still pretty healthy. I’m sure we’ll have it occupied very quickly.’

‘Good. I’d better get my skates on with the clear-out, then. The bulk of it is destined for charity shops.’ She sighed. ‘Ironic, as I don’t believe my brother ever donated a penny to charity.’

‘Not everyone does.’

‘No. But most people don’t tell the Salvation Army to fuck off. He did that one Christmas, at an outdoor concert to raise money for the homeless.’ Cheryl tutted at the recollection. ‘In fact, the more I think about him, the more I start to wonder if it wasn’t an accident at all.’

Robbie’s confusion was note perfect. ‘You mean ... someone knocked him down on purpose?’

‘The police haven’t ruled it out. And I dare say they’ll be checking to see whether I arranged to have him bumped off. Apart from a few bequests to cousins and so on, I’m the sole heir. Fortunately I have plenty of money of my own, so they won’t find any grubby motives there.’

There was a flirtatious edge to her voice now. Robbie grinned, knowing he’d reached the stage where he could safely tease her.

‘Sounds almost like you
did
have something to do with it.’

She giggled. ‘Yes. You must think me terribly wicked, joking like this when I should be grieving for him.’

‘People react in different ways.’

‘Oh, you’re good, Mr Scott. That must be a textbook answer.’

‘Top of page seven,’ he joked. ‘Okay, my impression is that if you ever killed somebody you’d want to look into their eyes when you did it.’

As he spoke, Robbie looked deep into her eyes. Cheryl held his gaze, understanding precisely what he was doing. He added, ‘I see you with a rifle or something.’

‘God, yes! Make it an Uzi. No pussyfooting around, I’d want to mow them down in a hail of bullets.’ More laughter, and then, in a decidedly admiring tone, she said, ‘That little mix-up when I phoned. What exactly were you in the process of arranging?’

Robbie just grinned, allowing her to work it out.

‘An assignation? No doubt with some lucky nubile young lady?’

‘Not a
young
lady, necessarily.’ He winked. ‘I enjoy the company of women of all ages.’

She smiled, then grew wistful. ‘If only Hank had possessed a quarter of your charm, he would have been a much nicer person.’

Robbie made noises of agreement, but he was thinking:
Don’t bet on that, Cheryl
.

****

Back in the hall, they were greeted by the sweet, tangy smell of sawdust. One of the carpenters emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tool bag.

‘About twenty minutes and we’re done,’ he said.

Cheryl turned to Robbie. ‘I have a huge favour to ask. I really have to be getting back to Warwick. I own a printing firm that has a habit of imploding if I’m absent for longer than a day or two. Could I leave you to see the builders out?’

Robbie hesitated. Checked his watch. She wouldn’t expect him to agree too readily.

‘I have a couple of appointments this afternoon, but yes, that should be fine.’

‘Thank you so much. They’ll give you the new keys. I have a set myself. Oh, and the alarm. I’ve changed the code.’

She led him to the control panel and ran through its operation, then jotted down the code. ‘I’ll be back again, probably Tuesday. Though next time I’ll stay in a hotel.’ She didn’t elaborate, but he thought he saw her shiver. ‘I’ve no idea yet when the funeral will be held. The body hasn’t been released. Worse still, I can’t think who will attend.’

‘His work colleagues, presumably? What was it you said he did ...?’

‘I didn’t.’ She gave him a wry glance. ‘And I can’t tell you much. I’m afraid I switched off whenever he talked about it. He never showed the slightest interest in my business, which I started from scratch and have kept in profit for more than fifteen years.’

Robbie had an image of Cate talking about him in the same disparaging manner. ‘Were the two of you competitive as children?’ he asked.

‘Not really. He attended a private school, even though it was well beyond our parents’ means. And because of that, he was bullied mercilessly. I’m sure that’s partly why he grew up to become so obnoxious.’

‘It didn’t happen to you, though.’

Cheryl smiled to acknowledge the compliment. ‘I was sent to the local state school, which was deemed to be perfectly adequate for the education of a mere
female
.’

****

They went through the paperwork. Cheryl seemed overly concerned that Robbie should have all her various contact numbers, and he wondered what it would take – how little it would take – to seduce her.

Brushing off the thought, he insisted on carrying her bag out to the car. She objected at first, but he could tell she was touched by the offer, bullshit-detector or no. He purposely hadn’t asked if there was a man in her life. He knew there wasn’t – or at least not one that meant anything to her. Separated or widowed, that was his hunch.

After opening the boot, she clicked her fingers. ‘Damn. I forgot to show you the barn, the sheds and whatnot.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll have a look round.’

‘There’s a fair bit of junk in the sheds, but the barn is empty. I believe Hank wanted to demolish it and build another house on the land.’

‘Really?’ Robbie gave the proposal his professional consideration. ‘Something for you to look at in future, perhaps?’

‘Mm. But the thought of finding a decent architect, and builders you can rely on ...’

‘I’m sure I could help you there. Just give me a shout.’

‘I will.’ They shook hands, and she said, ‘A pleasure to meet you, Mr Scott.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ Robbie said, and Cheryl didn’t baulk at such a smarmy phrase because she could tell that he meant it.

He remained on the drive while she got into the car. The sudden growling of a dog startled him. He looked to his right and could just make out movement through the bushes that marked the western boundary of the property. There must be a footpath running alongside it. He heard a woman shouting at the dog.

By the time he turned back, Cheryl Wilson had gone and Robbie had missed an opportunity to wave goodbye, sealing in her mind the image of him as a friendly, conscientious and thoroughly gorgeous young man.

Oh well. What mattered was that she’d willingly entrusted the house, its outbuildings and all its contents to Robbie. It was the sort of development that would have left Dan gobsmacked at what a jammy bastard he was, the way so often everything just fell into his lap.