‘No idea. He was too pissed to string a coherent sentence together.’ Robbie laughed.
Marie sat down opposite him. ‘Robbie, I’d like you to look deeper into her marriage to Tom Holland. And if you could do it rather quietly? I need to know if there’s any skeletons in the cupboard that the initial interviews missed.’ She frowned. ‘As you know, Carter is back today on full duties, but Jackman and I don’t want him getting involved with this case. Best he doesn’t hear the name Tom Holland too often. He reckons he’s fine with it, but we don’t think so, okay?’
Robbie nodded. ‘I totally agree. Don’t worry, Sarge, I’ll come to you directly if I find anything of interest.’
She nodded. ‘Oh, by the way, have you read the memo about dropping the formalities? First names and all that?’
‘Sure have, Sarge. But I’d never be able to manage it. If there’s a choice, I’d rather keep the status quo.’
‘Good man! You and me both.’
Marie walked off, leaving Robbie staring at the photograph.
Suzanne Holland had rich auburn hair just a shade or two away from red. She stared out of the picture from beautifully made-up hazel eyes. Her smile was seductive, full-lipped. Robbie shook his head. ‘Not my type. But I can see what her admirers saw in her.’
‘Me too.’ Max Cohen leaned over his shoulder. ‘That’s one hot lady.’ He slumped down in the chair Marie had just vacated. ‘I’m beginning to think this was a random wrong place, wrong time thing. I’ve spent days interviewing her acquaintances and friends, and all I’ve got is a big fat nothing. No one wanted her dead.’ He grunted. ‘And for once, I bloody well believe them. Maybe it was a bungled burglary, or she just met someone with a grudge against red heads.’
‘No, I’m certain she was the target.’ Robbie looked at her hazel eyes. What secrets did they hold? ‘She is a mystery woman.’
Max stood up. ‘Well, I hope she bleedin’ well hurries up and spills the beans, mate, ’cause this case is becoming a right pain in the arse.’
‘Indeed, it is.’ Robbie nibbled on a thumbnail. ‘But we’ll get there in the end. We’ll find out what happened.’
‘You reckon she’s brown bread?’
‘Oh yes. Don’t you?’
‘S’pose so.’
‘We’ll find her, Max. She’ll talk to us, when she’s ready.’
‘Typical woman. Gotta be on her terms.’ Max strolled back to his desk. ‘Even if she is bleedin’ dead.’
*
Marie sat in front of her computer, staring into space.
‘Penny for them?’ Carter said.
She jumped a little, but then looked up hopefully. ‘Hey! Scrap the financial negotiations, how did you get on in there? What did the super want?’
Carter screwed his face up. ‘Mmm, that was sincerely weird! She actually showed a human side.’ He gave a shrug. ‘This is most likely just a time-waster, but she wants you and I to check something out for her.’
Marie frowned. ‘So what about the case I’m already working on?
‘This is no big deal, just a few inquiries. Jackman’s okay with it, and we’ll be back here in no time.’
‘So what is all the urgency about?’
‘Because, believe it or not, she wanted you and I specifically to deal with it.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Apparently it needs tact and diplomacy and she thinks we’re the right people to do it.’
‘She said that? About you?’
‘As good as. In fact, yes, she did. And I think Jackman was as shocked as I was.’ He gave a rueful grin. ‘Although Jackman wasn’t quite as rude to her as I was.’
Marie gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Jackman is never rude. You on the other hand . . . Still, that’s a first, isn’t it? You and Ruth Crooke are like Sherlock and Moriarty. There has to be a catch, doesn’t there?
‘Oddly enough, I don’t think there is.’ He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘It concerns the super’s niece. Now, let’s go somewhere more private and I’ll bring you up to speed.’
Carter led the way downstairs and out of the building. They could talk freely in the car.
‘You’ve seen the girl here once or twice, haven’t you? Visiting her aunt?’ Carter turned on the ignition and let the windows down.
Marie nodded. ‘Leah, isn’t it? Tall, skinny, long dark hair in a ponytail and teeth white enough to spook horses?’
‘That’s the one. She’s nineteen and studying psychology at the Fenland Uni.’
‘And?’
‘She thinks she’s being stalked.’
‘What? With those teeth?’
Carter grinned. ‘Naughty! Apparently the kid is pretty upset.’
‘Sorry. Ignore me. I’m probably just denture envious. Being stalked is horrendous, actually.’ Marie’s face darkened. She had once been in a bad situation with a man who was obsessed with her, and knew the fear it generated.
‘Yeah, so let’s go talk to her, shall we?’ He started the car. ‘Oh, and when we’ve finished tonight, do you fancy a beer on the boat?’ His tone was light, but Marie could tell that something was worrying him.
‘Now that sounds more like it.’ She smiled brightly, but her heart sank. Going to the boat meant he wanted to talk, and that meant going over it all again. Yet another harrowing evening listening to a dear friend hating himself for simply being alive.
Marie tried to concentrate on Leah’s stalker. It was far less draining.
*
‘It first started when I found a bunch of flowers on my doorstep.’ Leah Kingfield looked from Carter to Marie. ‘I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but now . . .’ She shrugged.
‘Was there a card with them?’ Carter asked.
She nodded. ‘It had a single X on it, and sorry, but I threw it away.’ She looked down. ‘I have a boyfriend, you see.’
‘You’re certain they weren’t from him?’ said Marie.
‘Flowers? No. Definitely not his thing. A book on parapsychological phenomena maybe, but twenty-four red roses? No way.’
Marie raised her eyebrows. ‘Two dozen! Wow. He’s no cheapskate, that’s for sure.’
Carter frowned at her. ‘When was that exactly?’
Leah picked up a sheet of paper from the coffee table in front of them. ‘Auntie Ruth told me to list everything that had happened — times, dates and places.’
‘I should have known.’ Carter smiled wryly, taking the list from her slender hand. ‘Very professional.’
Marie glanced around the flat. It was a far cry from the usual student’s grotty pad. It wasn’t quite as antiseptic as Carter’s place, but it was dusted and tidy. Marie suspected that Leah’s allowance was subsidised by her auntie, and probably stretched to a cleaner. ‘Do you live here alone?’
‘No. I have a flatmate, but she’s on holiday in the Algarve with her parents.’
‘So, you are on your own at present?’
‘Sounds pretty feeble, but actually I’m staying with Auntie Ruth until she gets back. I’ve only come here now to meet you and to grab some more clothes and things. I’m afraid all this has freaked me out a bit.’
‘It’s not feeble at all,’ said Carter. ‘It’s very sensible.’