Blood Evidence Page 10

  “Actually, we’re trying to convince him to let us consult on the case. I thought you might put in a good word for us.”

  “Give me that,” Fairlight says impatiently, holding out his hand. “No buttering him up before I get a chance to hear the truth.”

  “I’m handing you over now,” I say, reluctantly relinquishing my phone.

  Fairlight stands with the phone to his ear, his elbow propped against his other arm where it remains tightly against his chest. He wears a frown on his face, and looks down at the floor as he listens. “Fairlight here. Mm-hmm. Right… And that was when?... I see. So you’d recommend… right, no, of course. Fully sanctioned, was it? I see. Alright, thank you for your time, Detective Inspector Heath. Yes, that’s fine. Alright.”

  Fairlight ends the call and hands the phone back to me, his brows still drawn low over his eyes like heavy summer caterpillars.

  “Now, I want you to know something,” he says. “The only reason I am agreeing to this is because I also feel like there’s something fishy about this confession.”

  I grin, and can’t help raising both fists in an expression of victory. “You won’t regret this.”

  “One step out of line,” he says, pointing sharply at me. “Just one step, and you’re gone. Understand me? We’re not fast and loose with the rules out here like they might be in the Met. You report to me both before and after every single thing you do.”

  “Of course,” I say, holding my hands palm-outward to prove my good intentions.

  “I’ll keep Ram in check,” Will adds. Somewhat unnecessarily, I feel.

  “Ram?” Fairlight gives us a raised eyebrow.

  “Oh, nickname,” Will says hurriedly. “I meant Julius. It’s just what I call him.”

  “Why do you call him Ram?”

  “Because he’s so stubborn,” Will says. “You know, always butting heads, like a ram.”

  “I thought you said it was because I’m always horny,” I say, pouting.

  Fairlight looks between us, then seems to give up with a shake of his head. “So, you’ve just spoken to Miranda and Andrew?”

  “And Rosie and Mike,” Will says. “Who, by the way, are not who they say they are.”

  “Oh, we know,” Fairlight says. “Don’t worry. My lads are currently working on getting a correct identity for Rosie, or whatever her real name is. We’re getting a warrant in case they won’t cooperate.”

  “We’ve interviewed Reed this morning,” I add. “Do you want us to go through our notes?”

  Fairlight checks his watch. “Do I take it you intend to talk with all of the involved parties?”

  “All but Cameron. After all, he’s under your care already.”

  “Give me a full report after you’re done,” Fairlight says, reaching for the door handle. “You are officially civilian consultants on this case. Don’t harass anyone. Or do anything even remotely illegal. Not even anything which constitutes a grey area. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Will murmurs. I nod enthusiastically.

  “Right,” Fairlight says, with the sigh of a man who feels he may regret this soon. He leaves us there and strides away, out to the main door and the police car we can see through the glass.

  “We’re in, Will baby,” I say, slinging my arm back around his neck again.

  “Yes, and I’m developing bruises on my shoulders thanks to all this good news,” Will winces. “Let’s get going.”

  “Ah yes,” I say. “Lunch.”

  Not by coincidence, I select a pub on the high street. It’s a well-known chain, famous for cheap food and even cheaper beer. Not by coincidence, because this is where Johnny Blackburn happens to work.

  I’m disappointed at first. He doesn’t seem to be on shift. But there’s worse places to waste your time than a warm room with comfy chairs and cheap booze.

  As the hours drag on into the early afternoon, we sit and order food – or at least, I order food while Will tries to protest – and eat in the relative silence of the busy dining area.

  “I didn’t think this was your kind of place,” Will says, as he lays his fork down, leaving over half of his plate untouched.

  I sigh and give him a sideways glance, but I know I can’t say a word. “The beer’s cheap,” I point out, raising my third glass.

  “We’ll have to get a taxi back,” Will points out. Is that a thread of relief I hear in his voice?

  “Not yet, we won’t,” I say, getting out of my chair. A chance look across the room gave me what I have been waiting for all along: Johnny Blackburn, entering the pub to start his shift.

  “Did you know?” Will asks, following my eyes and seeing him.

  “Of course,” I fire back over my shoulder as I walk away. “It’s on his Facebook page.”

  I stop Johnny as he attempts to walk past the bar, no doubt heading for the staff area.

  “’Scuse me,” he starts. When I don’t move, he looks up, and his face softens then hardens again in recognition.

  “A word before you start work, if you would, Johnny,” I say, gesturing towards our table.

  “I’ll be late,” he says, making to brush past me.

  I put a hand on his chest to stop him from going by. “We’ve been brought into the official investigation by the police. Detective Chief Inspector Fairlight strongly suggests you do as we ask.”

  That does the trick. Johnny’s posture slumps, and he trails after me to sit down at the table opposite Will.

  “What, then?” he asks. “Make it quick. I don’t want to get in trouble with my boss.”

  “Rather that, than get yourself arrested,” I say pointedly. “When did you check in to the Highcastle Inn?”

  “A bit before one in the afternoon,” he says, rubbing his left eyebrow as he looks up in search of the memories. “I was hungry, so I checked in, put my bags in my room, and came straight down for lunch.”

  “Exactly why did you choose to sit and open all of your presents in the dining room, on your own?” I ask.

  Johnny’s eyes widen momentarily, perhaps in surprise that we already have all of the details. “Well, I was treating myself,” he says. “I thought it would be better to get a room at the Inn and stay there after the party instead of having to get home. Could get more bladdered that way.”

  “Quite,” Will mutters.

  “I opened a couple of presents with my housemates that morning, then went to the Inn to open the rest,” Johnny continues.

  “You didn’t want to spend time with your family on your birthday?”

  Johnny sighs, rubbing his eyebrow again with the heel of his hand. “I guess you haven’t looked me up, then.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “My dad’s inside. Mum’s dead,” he says, looking over at the bar. He looks like he would rather be anywhere than in this conversation. I’m starting to agree with him.

  “Inside for what?”

  “GBH,” Johnny says. He folds his arms on the table in front of him and half-buries his head, rubbing his left ear on his shoulder.

  I exchange a glance with Will. This is textbook avoidance behaviour. There’s clearly more to dig up. “And what else would we find out if we look you up?” I ask.

  “I did three months for ABH,” he says, then coughs, as if dislodging the taste of the words from his throat.

  “Your boss here know about that, does he?”

  Johnny doesn’t need to reply. His guilty look to the floor says it all. As does the panicked expression he turns on us a moment later, when he realises that we know his secret and could easily spill it.

  “Just keep answering our questions,” I say, looking him directly in the eye. “Nobody needs to know anything.”

  Johnny looks at the bar, to his colleagues who are already starting to frown at him. He’s running late, it seems. He gives us a nod, and leans in with his head just above the table.

  “So, what happened at lunch?” I ask.

  “I opened this gold chain,” he says. “Something from
my grandparents. I put it out on the table, then while I got up to order another drink, it disappeared. I didn’t notice it right away, but when I did, I shouted out. There were only five people in the bloody room, it was pretty obvious who had to have done it.”

  “Five people?” Will asks.

  Good spot. We’d only heard about four.

  “Yeah. Me, Cameron, the weirdo, Lina, and the security guard. He helped me look for the necklace.”

  “What was he doing in there?” I ask.

  “Having lunch,” Johnny shrugs. “Don’t blame him. It was good nosh.”

  “So where did you find it? The necklace?”

  “I didn’t find it,” Johnny half-laughs, half-sneers. “Half an hour later, the security guard comes up to me with it. He says he found it sitting on one of the chairs. Which is completely fucking ridiculous, by the way, because I looked. I’m not an idiot.”

  I look at him, up and down. No, I think he is an idiot. Would I put it past him to have missed something so obvious? No, I wouldn’t. Still, it’s something to talk to security about.

  “What did you do after that?”

  “I went up to my room, relaxed a bit, and got ready for the party,” Johnny says. “Came down just before seven to make sure everything was set up, and then my guests started coming in. I got drunk, had a good time, danced with Isabella, went to bed.”

  “Slow down a bit there,” I say. “What time did you go to bed?”

  “After they shut off the music at two in the morning.”

  “And what about Isabelle? Were you still with her?”

  “I was the last one standing. Everyone left, she left. She said she was going out for a fag and didn’t come back. I thought, well, maybe she just didn’t want to come back to my room with me.”

  “That disappointed you, did it?”

  “Well, yeah, I booked a room so I could get lucky,” Johnny smirks, then shakes his head. “But I wasn’t even mad. I was so drunk. Maybe I wouldn’t have been able to, you know.”

  Unfortunately, I do know. “Happens to the best of us,” I say.

  “Not all of us,” Will cuts in archly. “Some of us know the term ‘moderation’.”

  “And some of us have so little of a social life that it doesn’t matter anyway,” I say, turning a raised eyebrow on him. “Or do you have a secret girlfriend that I don’t know about?”

  Will colours and mutters something under his breath, but I turn my attention back towards Johnny.

  “After that?”

  “I don’t remember anything. I got up a couple of times to be sick in the toilet but that’s it,” he says.

  “What a wonderful end to a birthday night,” Will says. Apparently, he’s still stinging from my last comment.

  “Then I went downstairs when I heard the screaming like you lot did. Can I go now? My boss has seen me,” Johnny says, leaning back in his chair and bracing his hands on the table, ready to spring up.

  “Go on,” I say, waving him off.

  Once he has disappeared back towards the kitchen, I turn to Will.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask.

  “Well, he’s got no one to prove he was alone in his room all night,” he says. “He could still be on our list.”

  “Sounds like Jude had something to do with it all as well,” I say.

  “But there’s something more troubling than either of them.” Will rubs a hand over the top of his head until a couple of hairs stick up like antennae.

  “What?”

  “None of what anyone has told us clears Cameron. In fact, he’s starting to look guiltier and guiltier.”

  Sixteen – Will

  Lina had gone home by the time we got back to the hotel. She would have to wait. But Stacey was on duty, and since the bar was deserted, we managed to convince her to talk to us.

  She was only just old enough to be serving behind the bar. She should have been studying, away at university or college. I didn’t ask why she wasn’t, and neither did Ram. She probably didn’t need reminding that serving behind the bar at a country inn was hardly a good career prospect.

  “Just pretend you’re a customer if Richard or Bev come in,” she said. “I don’t want to get the sack. I’ll make you some drinks.”

  “Double measure of Jack for me,” Ram said, digging out his credit card.

  “With coke?”

  “Nope,” he said, then looked at me.

  “Diet lemonade,” I said. “Please.”

  “There you go, then. We are customers. So what times were you on shift that night?”

  I flipped to a new page in the notebook to start taking down her answer.

  “I started at five in the afternoon,” she said. “I helped set up everything for the party and beat the dinner rush. That’s our only busy time – lunch, dinner, and parties. Otherwise it’s a bit like this.”

  She gestured to the empty room behind us, then leaned her elbows on the bar. At that angle, the front of her shirt drooped open, giving Ram a clear line of sight at her chest. Even I could see more than I wanted to, sat beside him. Probably not an accident, knowing the effect he tends to have on everyone.

  Not that I can judge. I see the same thing everyone else does. Probably more. But I’m not flashing him.

  Ram gave a slight cough, then examined his drink carefully. “And what time did you finish?”

  “I wrapped up the party at two in the morning,” she said. “Lights on, music off. Once the bar was empty, I tidied up a bit and then went home.”

  “And you didn’t see anything strange at that time?”

  “No. I didn’t see anyone. I just saw Jude on my way out.”

  “He was here for a long time, then?” I asked. “He started at lunch.”

  Stacey gave me an odd look. “No, he started at six. He only comes on to cover parties. Other than that, he does night shifts at the weekends just in case the bar gets messy. There’s not much goes on around here, normally.”

  That was something. I made a note, then waited for Ram to continue.

  “Take us through your day, please. Tell me anything you noticed. If it seems significant, we’ll go into it in more detail.”

  “Okay,” Stacey said, taking a deep breath. She was wearing the kind of pout that suggested she felt hard done by. I was beginning to get the sense for why bar work was her first choice. “I started out by just setting up the bar and getting everything cleaned and ready. I was on my own at first ‘cause Lina was doing the restaurant service. Everyone finished eating sometime after six so she joined me before the party started.

  “The first guests arrived just past seven, as well as Johnny – it was his birthday. It was a little quiet at first, but more people came, along with some of the guests from the rooms upstairs. Then it was really going off. Everyone was dancing, grinding, drinking. We could hardly keep up.”

  “Anything happen during the party?”

  “Not much. I was trying to catch Johnny’s eye in case he would offer me a drink, but he was just dancing with that girl. The one who…”

  Ram nodded encouragingly. “Anything else?”

  “Everyone just got drunker. A couple of people threw up in the loos so I had to clean it up. And there was a bit of a catfight, some girls who both wanted the same lad. There was only a few people left when I turned on the lights and then Johnny was the last one to go up. He was really bladdered. I don’t think he was in much of a state to do anything.”

  “What do you mean?” Ram asked, leaning in.

  Stacey lit up under his attention. “He could hardly walk. I had to put an arm around his shoulders just to get him to the stairs. It took him a good ten minutes to get up there. I cleaned up all the empty glasses and pulled down the decorations before he got into his room. He was slurring a lot, too. He tried to grab my bum but I moved quick enough.”

  I tutted under my breath. Men who think they’re entitled to a feel give us all a bad name.

  “You saw him go into his room?” Ram
pressed.

  “Yeah, I looked up as he was going up the hall. I came up the stairs and watched him. I didn’t want him to vom everywhere. I’d have had to clean it up.”

  “And then what?”

  “I just went back down, finished up, and left. I didn’t need to lock up or anything ‘cause Jude was still outside, so I just drove home.”

  “Alright, good,” Ram said, pausing and glancing down at my notes as if he was searching for a thread to unravel. “What were your impressions of the other guests?”

  “Nothing much. There was the two couples, they were mostly just all over each other. That girl looked a bit young, but she showed me her ID when I served them. The older couple were a bit gross. I definitely saw tongue at one point. Oh, and there was that weirdo – the one with the jumpers.”

  “Reed David,” I supplied.

  “Is that his name?” she asked. “Well, if you say so. Anyway. He was talking to himself a bit. I tried to stay away from him, he creeped me out. He was definitely watching Johnny and the other girl a lot.”

  “What about Cameron Winter?”

  “He’s the one who done it, yeah? I don’t think I even saw him.”

  “Not even in the evening?”

  “Nope. Oh, I did take him some room service. He just thanked me and took it, so I didn’t see him for long.”

  “What was it?”

  “A bottle of champagne with two glasses and a note. I thought someone must have joined him, but I didn’t see anyone up there. I had to hurry back ‘cause the bar was busy.”

  “Did he call down and order it?” I asked.

  Stacey looked surprised. “Actually, no,” she said. “It was booked in advance. Scheduled for that exact time.”

  “Okay,” Ram said, nodding and finishing the last of his drink. “That’s great, Stacey. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” she said, flashing him a flirty smile. “Did you want another drink?”

  “One for the road,” he said. “We’ll take them upstairs.”

  “Did you manage to remember anything about Ray Riley?” I asked.

  Stacey’s faced clouded over with a frown.

  “The missing guy. I showed you his picture?” I prompted.