'Til Death (DI Steven Marr Book 1) - UK Crime Fiction Whodunnit Thriller (3 page)

‘What’s his name?’

‘Gregor Stanic.’

Anna nodded.

‘OK, thanks Becky. I’ll take care of it.’

Becky gave Sam Caroline’s number before returning to the main barn.

The first ring had barely sounded when there was a soft ‘click’.

'Hello?' asked a female voice. It was high, almost a squeak. Caroline Marcus – if that was who it was - sounded frantic.

'Caroline?' Sam asked.

'Yes. Who's this?'

'My name’s Detective Inspector Reid. I believe you rang my colleague a few moments ago.'

'Oh god, is Anna OK? The other detective wouldn't tell me.'

'Were you and Anna close?' Sam asked.

'Oh god, really, though, is she OK?'

'Caroline, I think it would be useful if you came to see us.'

‘Of course, yes, where, Hendon House?'

Sam looked back across the field, where the white CSIs were still dotted against fields.

'Actually, I’ll come and see you’ she decided, ‘What's your address?'

Caroline lived close by; this side of Colchester. Sam checked her watch. A twenty minute drive at most.

'OK, Caroline, I'll be with you soon, give me an hour or so.'

She cut the call before Caroline could ask the question again, then dialled through to Marr.

'We’ve had a call from a Caroline Marcus, claiming to be Anna’s best friend. I think the fiancée already told her about Anna’s death, so I'm going to go and see her now. She's only twenty minutes away. I'll grab coffees on the way back.'

'And that, DI Reid, is why you'll be a Superintendent someday,’ Marr replied.

Sam lowered her voice.

‘Don’t be so fucking patronising’ she said, though she was smiling when she hung up.

CHAPTER SIX

Caroline Marcus' flat was in the Hythe area of Colchester. Traffic was pretty light, so Sam had no problem dealing with the one way system. She arrived at the building five minutes later than she’d planned, but didn't think that would be much of a problem. Caroline wasn't going anywhere until she got confirmation that Anna was dead.

Even so, it was a surprise to see her waiting by the outside door to the building. It didn't take much working out that it was her: her hands were still trembling.

'Caroline?' Sam asked.

Caroline nodded. Her forehead was a mess of worry lines.

'Thanks for coming.' she said.

'Of course. Shall we go up?'

They'd been in the flat less than five seconds when Caroline asked the same question. Convinced that she wasn’t a reporter, Sam gave her the answer. The honest one.

Caroline instantly deflated, the anxiety flooding out and the numbness rushing in. Her hand stopped shaking. She sank onto the sofa, her eyes fixed on the carpet.

'I'm sorry,' Sam said. 'Shall I make us a drink?'

The reply was non-existent, but Sam carried on anyway. There was little point just staring at the poor girl and waiting.

As Sam busied herself with the kettle, she heard the click of the door behind her. Caroline had locked herself in the bathroom. Briefly, Sam was worried. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of retching.

Two steaming mugs of tea were on the coffee table by the time Caroline re-emerged. Her face had regained a bit of colour, but she still looked very shaky.

'I couldn't find the sugar,' Sam said, trying to sound as comforting as possible. This was the one bit of the job she had never, ever clicked with. Some people had the art of the death message down pat; it seemed to be something you were born with, just like some people could walk into a room and be everyone’s friend within minutes. Sam had tried, but it just felt so unnatural; what you were meant to say, and how you were meant to say it. The simple fact was that no matter what she said, Sam never felt like she was really helping. Maybe someone good at delivering bad news – Becky was exemplary – really did think she was making a difference. Maybe that was the key.

Caroline sat down.

'I'll get this out of the way,' Sam began, 'Who told you about Anna’s Death?'

Caroline said nothing, and wouldn’t meet Sam’s eyes.

'It's OK, you won't get them in trouble,’ Sam continued, ‘You were Anna's best friend, it's natural they would have told you.’

There was no smile, but Caroline replied.

'Greg. Greg rang me after the cop had left his house.'

That was as expected, thought Sam. Partners were always more likely to take friends into account; they spent more time together. Family, especially parents, well…the family was what mattered in the end.

'What did he tell you?' asked Sam.

'That Anna had been killed, and that her body had been found by the lake at Hendon House.'

'OK. And have you told anybody else at all?'

Caroline shook her head.

'No, honest.'

'That’s alright, we just have to check. I'm going to ask you a few questions about Anna now, if that's OK?'

Caroline nodded her agreement.

'How long had you known her?'

'Fifteen years. Since college. Post-16.'

'And you'd been friends since?'

'Yes. All through university.'

'Did you go to the same University as each other?'

'Yes. Economics at the LSE.'

'Impressive. How did you find it?'

Caroline smiled.

'A bit boring. At least I did; Anna liked it. She was focused. Pretty average ability wise, like me, but a much harder worker. She nearly got a first, I was at the bottom end of the two-ones.'

'Me too' said Sam. Not entirely true. She’d got a two one, but it had been pretty comfortable. She definitely could have done better, that much was for sure.

'Did she meet Greg at University?'

Caroline shook her head.

'No. She met him about three years ago.'

'How?'

'Through me.'

'You work with Greg?'

'I used to. Harpenden & Marshall accountants in Chelmsford. Greg learned his trade there before going freelance to get the extra money. He spent eight years in the army, so he had the discipline to do it.'

Made sense, thought Sam. Hard work and discipline. Just the sort of apprentice that any company would snap up, knowing they could replace him with another apprentice when the time came for him to move on.

'How was he to work with?' Sam asked.

Caroline thought about it for a moment.

'He was OK. To tell you the truth, he was sort of the office slut. Sorry, that sounds bad. But he had a few partners there: a couple of affairs with married women.'

Again, it made sense enough. Fit, ambitious.

'Did you and he..?'

Caroline shook his head.

'Oh no, I had a steady boyfriend then. One I actually liked. He moved up to Scotland, though. Better opportunities, apparently.'

Caroline's lip curled slightly. Sam guessed that the break-up had been mutual-but-not.

'Would you have been interested if not?' Sam asked.

There was no reply for a moment, then:

'Yeah, I guess so. Greg's a good looking guy. Quite masculine. I can see why he did as well as he did. I mean, he got Anna to settle: that’s no mean feat in itself.’

'Did Anna enjoy her sex life?'

Caroline paused and looked up.

'Thanks for saying it like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘Well, whenever that question comes up; the way people ask…it just pisses me off. Shag around. Sleep around. You know, like it’s wrong for a woman to enjoy sex.’

Sam shrugged, and was pleased to see Caroline smile for the first time.

'True. But no, that wasn't actually what I meant. To be honest, I thought Anna would always be a bit of a workhorse; married to the job. She’d always talked about getting married at Hendon, but after five years or so of work any talk about blokes or marriage disappeared. Until she met Greg, she hadn’t seemed in the slightest bit bothered.’

'Did you set her and Greg up?'

'No. They met at one of the Christmas parties. It was just after Andy left, so I wanted a girl-date who could sit and be bitter with me. Fat chance: Anna and Greg started off arguing about Iraq and ended up kissing. That's love for you.'

‘What did you think of them as a couple?’

‘When they first started, I thought they’d be too much for each other. Greg’s your clichéd alpha, and Anna was as tough as nails. I was happy to be wrong, though. I know it’s something you hear about all the time, but they just seemed to make each other better. He dropped a lot of the posturing, and she opened up more. They looked after each other.’

‘Did anyone have a problem with the relationship that you know of?’

Caroline laughed.

‘Tom. Thomas Coulthard, sorry.’

Sam made a note of the name.

‘He was Anna’s other best friend. He’d known her for years, since school. They played together all the time when they were kids. He was the one friend from when she was really young that stuck around.’

‘What did you think of him?’ Sam asked.

Caroline’s body language had changed: there were goosebumps forming on the pale skin of her arm.

‘You know how some men just…well, they set alarm bells ringing?’

Sam nodded. As a cop, dealing with men like that was an occupational hazard.

‘Tom’s like that for me. I don’t know why. He’s harmless; pathetic, really. I just didn’t like being around him. I tended to make myself scarce whenever he and Anna would hang out. She didn’t see him too much in the last couple of years, so it didn’t cause any problems.’

‘They still saw each other?’

‘Every two or three months. Not a lot. They used to hang out all the time at college I think, though: before we started uni.’

‘Was he in love with Anna?’

Caroline nodded.

‘Yeah, or at least he used to be. When they were younger, they talked about it. Anna wasn’t interested, so they never brought it up again. At least, that’s what she told me.’

‘What did you think?’

‘I wasn’t too convinced. Even though he is how he is, I did feel a bit sorry for him. The way he used to look at her; like a dog looking at its owner. Desperate for approval.’

‘Could he have killed Anna?’ Sam asked.

Caroline looked thoughtful.

‘No, I don’t think so. I just don’t think he’d be up to it, to be honest.’

‘Can you think of anyone who
would
be up to it?’

‘I really can’t. I mean, who the hell would hurt Anna? She was great. I mean, she was a bit intense sometimes, but she was so kind to me, and her parents, and she loved Greg. Really, really loved him. And now…’

Caroline coughed, and then a sob came seemed to come from nowhere. Five seconds later, she wasn’t capable of talking anymore.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Marr groaned loudly, not relinquishing his grip on Sam’s hips as he came.

For a moment they were both still, then Sam moved off him and collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily.

Marr reached across for the half-empty pack of cigarettes on the bedside table.

‘Don’t you only smoke those after sex?’ Sam asked.

‘Yeah. It would be more suspicious if I didn’t smell of it every now and then, anyway: it’s not like she doesn’t know I smoke.’

Sam nodded, and they were silent for a moment.

‘Do you think Lizzie knows?’ she finally said.

Marr shook his head.

‘She’d stick my head in a deep fat fryer.’

‘That’s comforting; good to know we’re not risking much.’

‘It’s the truth. My wife doesn’t
do
passive aggressive.’

Sam leaned over and took the not-yet lit cigarette from between Marr’s lips.

‘You’ll forgive me being cautious, then.’

Sam threw the cigarette in the nearby bin, and Marr smiled. He knew it was childish, but sometimes he just couldn’t get over what was happening.

The first time he and Sam slept together, it really
had
been just a drunken mistake. A stinker of a conference on changing government policy, a nasty break-up for her and a bottle of stolen scotch behind the bar.

Things proceeded from there.

When it had carried on after the conference, though…well, Marr couldn’t honestly say he’d fought Sam’s advances off. His fellow DI knew what she wanted. Sure, if you saw a transcript of the conversation, you’d say she talked him into it. But if you were there? Well, you might not.