Fatal Act (14 page)

‘Me?’

The girl blinked in surprise, but there was no mistaking the fear on her face. The knuckles of her left hand whitened where she was clinging to the edge of the door, and her lips trembled. She took an involuntary step back, enabling Geraldine to edge forward until she was standing firmly in the doorway.

‘You are Megan Barron, aren’t you?’

G
eraldine knew she was correct, but the girl hesitated before admitting to her name.

‘What – what do you want with me?’

‘I’d just like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Me? What do you want with me?’

‘Can I come in?’

‘No, that’s not a good idea, not right now.’

‘What’s wrong with us talking right now?’

‘I told you, Dirk’s asleep. He’s bound to hear us talking.’

‘Do you have something to say that you don’t want him to hear?’

‘I’ve got no secrets from Dirk.’

‘So then it’s not a problem if he hears us talking.’

‘I just told you, he’s asleep. If we go up and talk in the flat, we’re bound to wake him up.’

G
eraldine took a step forward.

‘We can talk here, very quietly. This won’t take long, Megan. Or is there a problem with you talking to me?’

‘No, no, there’s no problem!’ Megan gulped. ‘What do you want to know?’

She glanced over her shoulder and Geraldine wondered whether she was afraid of the police, or of being overheard by her boyfriend if she said the wrong thing.

‘Where were you Friday night?’

‘Here. I was here.’

‘Alone?’

‘No, no. I was with Dirk.’

‘He was here too?’

‘Yes.’

S
he was squirming now. It must have occurred to her that Geraldine might know she was lying. There could be witnesses to prove Dirk hadn’t been at home that night.

‘At least, I think we were here on Friday night.’

‘You’re not sure then?’

‘Yes, yes, I’m sure. We were here, together, all night.’

‘He couldn’t have slipped out without your knowing?’

‘No. That’s not possible. I’m a very light sleeper.’

Having committed herself to her story, Megan became increasingly credible in her lie. She sounded quite confident now as she repeated her claim that they had been in the flat, together, all Friday night.

‘Would you be prepared to swear to that in a court?’

‘A court? What? Yes, yes, of course I would.’

And why not? She had already repeated it to a police inspector.

G
eraldine stared at the round-faced girl. Megan had recovered her composure and was returning the gaze with sullen resolution. After a faltering start, she wasn’t going to be as easy to break down as Geraldine had hoped. She considered telling Megan that Dirk had still been seeing Anna until she died, but decided to keep that in reserve. For now, she simply thanked Megan and retreated onto the path. Megan tried to hide her relief, but it was clear that she was struggling to suppress a grin.

‘Is that it, then?’ she asked, making no move now to close the door.

‘For now.’

M
egan became reckless in her relief.

‘I’d ask you in,’ she said, ‘only Dirk’s still asleep.’

As though his name was a cue for him to step out of the wings, Dirk appeared in the hallway behind Megan.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ he demanded, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

He was dressed only in boxers and vest but seemed quite unselfconscious about his appearance. If Geraldine had been a man with a body like his, she might have enjoyed showing it off. Catching sight of Geraldine, he glared at her.

‘What the hell’s she doing here?’ he demanded in a theatrical undertone.

‘She’s just going,’ Megan assured him.

‘What’s she doing here?’ he repeated.

Megan shrugged wretchedly. Geraldine waited, curious to see the interaction between them. Dirk looked irritated, while Megan’s surly face softened on seeing him. When he spoke angrily, she cowered like a dog that expected to be beaten.

‘You said she’s off?’ he muttered.

‘Yes.’

D
irk turned to Geraldine and flashed a warm smile.

‘Megan says you’re leaving, but surely you’ve only just arrived? I must say, it’s good to see the forces of law and order hard at work,’ he added heartily, without a hint of irony in his voice. ‘I take it this is about poor Anna? Is there anything we can do to help?’

‘You’ve already been more than helpful, both of you,’ she replied.

As the front door was closing behind her, Geraldine caught a glimpse of Megan’s anxious face. She tried to imagine their conversation. Dirk would probably round on Megan in fury. Or he might be reassuring his nervous girlfriend, exhorting her to stick to her story.

G
eraldine sighed. If only she could see through brick walls, hear what people were saying out of earshot, her job would be so much easier. She didn’t believe Megan’s claim that she had spent Friday night with her boyfriend, but it wouldn’t be easy to persuade Megan to tell the truth now that she had committed herself to her lie. Not only was she set on protecting Dirk, but she would have to admit she had lied to Geraldine if she changed her account of Friday night. Still pondering about how far Megan might be prepared to perjure herself to defend Dirk, Geraldine made her way back to her office.

S
ince he had been living with Anna, and his van had been involved in the accident, Reg wanted Piers arrested and formally charged with Anna’s murder. If nothing else, they had enough to hold him for a while and stop the media baying for an arrest.

‘It’s time we sorted this out,’ he told Geraldine.

‘We don’t know he did it.’

‘What makes you so sure he didn’t? Have you got anything to go on, other than your gut feeling?’

Geraldine was about to protest, but Reg went on before she could speak again.

‘Look, I know you’ve got reservations, but the chances are he’s guilty, and if he isn’t, then perhaps arresting him will jog his memory and he’ll come up with something to help us establish whoever was driving his van that night.’

‘Without keys,’ Geraldine reminded her superior gently. ‘It could have been anyone.’

Reg grunted. They both knew they were going round in circles.

G
eraldine suspected the detective chief inspector was under pressure to come up with an arrest, but he was paid to deal with that. She wished he wouldn’t try and pass the stress on to her. There was no reason to rush to arrest the first possible suspect. If they were wrong, they would end up having to release him anyway, and they would have given an innocent man a hard time. Still, they had little else to go on. Nearly a week had passed since the murder. They had put out an appeal for witnesses to come forward, including the reporter who had tried to view the crash before the scene of crime officers arrived. So far no one had been in touch.

‘The public want us to protect them, but they don’t work with us,’ she grumbled as she made her way back along the corridor to her own office. ‘We’re not bloody magicians.’

W
HEN
P
IERS
WOKE
UP
his head was pounding. It was dark outside. Squinting at his watch in the half-light he was surprised to see that it was half past nine on Thursday evening. It was a long time since he had lost twenty-four hours in a drunken binge. Everything in his life was spinning out of control. Considering what he had been through with Anna, it was hardly surprising he had lost track of time. He felt rather than saw that he was sprawling on his bed, wearing only a shirt.

‘It’s Thursday,’ he said out loud.

Someone moaned near his feet. Realising he wasn’t alone, he looked down in surprise.

A
girl was lying across the foot of the bed. She raised her head and he saw her face peering up at him from beneath a mess of black hair. The sheets were crumpled and her face was smeared with black make-up.

‘What the hell happened to you?’

‘You did, Piers. You and your bloody whisky.’

Whisky. He stared around wildly. A bottle was gleaming on his bedside table. He reached out, but it was empty. With a sudden roar of rage he chucked it straight at the girl’s head. She ducked and the bottle hit her a glancing blow as it skimmed past her.

S
he let out a shrill yelp and clambered onto her knees, covering her face with her hands. Seeing her pale naked body he tried to remember what had happened before he lost consciousness, but his mind was a blank. She should never have come there. All he wanted was to be left in peace. With renewed anger he leapt off the bed and saw the bottle lying on its side on the carpet. He stooped to retrieve it, feeling its cold weight in his grasp. Too late the girl understood his intention and scrambled off the bed in a panic, screaming at him to stop. But he couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want to stop. Women were the cause of all his problems. For so long he had believed he was getting his way with them, when all the time they had been exploiting him, every one of them playing him for a mug. It was payback time.

H
e must have spoken aloud because she interrupted his reverie.

‘What are you talking about, payback time?’

She was yanking on her jeans, hopping about on one foot while she backed away from him towards the door.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ he cried.

Lunging forwards, he grasped her by the hair and spun her round onto the bed. She was shrieking again so he slapped her face, hard. It was his house. He hadn’t invited her in. He didn’t have to listen to her racket.

‘Shut the fuck up, you prick teaser, or I’m really going to hurt you.’

She curled up in a ball, facing away from him, quivering and whimpering softly. He stared at her scrawny back, each vertebra clearly sculpted on the flesh, and thought he was going to puke. He had no idea what he was doing. Releasing his grip on her hair, he sat down heavily beside her and watched her skinny back shake with silent sobs.

‘D
o me a favour and get the fuck out of here,’ he said at last.

He felt drained of energy. When she sat up, her hair fell back from her face exposing an irregular dark stain on her cheek. At first he thought it was her make-up. Then he saw it was a large bruise. He wondered if he had done that to her and realised with a cold shiver that he really didn’t care. He thought he ought to show some concern. The last thing he wanted was for her to go running to the police to accuse him of assault. The smug detective inspector would rub her hands with glee at being handed proof he was violent. In her twisted mind, it would only be a short step from there to a murder charge.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

The girl didn’t answer but sat on the bed, shaking.

‘Are you all right?’ he repeated

‘No. No I’m not. You nearly fucking killed me.’

‘Jesus, don’t say that. It was the drink.’

H
e forced himself to speak gently although his heart was pounding. ‘I’ve been under unbearable pressure lately. I warned you not to come in. I knew I was too drunk to cope. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. Cheryl, you must know what you mean to me.’

He had no idea what he was talking about. He just wanted her to go away and not cause him any trouble.

‘Get away from me!’

‘Calm down. No one’s going to hurt you.’

He threw himself onto his knees on the floor in front of her, hoping she was too stupid to realise it was all an act. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have given a toss what she thought, or how badly he hurt her. But the police suspected him of murdering Anna. He had to protect his image.

‘Y
ou must know I really care about you, Cheryl. You’re special. I’ve got great plans for you, for your career –’

‘You told the police I was your sister.’

‘I said that to protect you. From gossip. How can I help to build your career if people know you’re my girlfriend? No one would take you seriously as an actor. They’d say you only got the part because I’m sleeping with you. I saw what that did to Anna,’ he lied. ‘But I know you can make it on your talent. And I can help you.’

He wasn’t sure that made any sense at all. On the contrary, he seemed to be contradicting himself. But the girl was listening intently, her face no longer twisted in fear.

‘What plans?’

He suppressed a smile because the crisis had passed.

‘I’m too tired to talk about it now. Why don’t you go home, and I’ll call you in a few days, when all this fuss with the police has blown over, and we can pick up where we left off, before it all started?’

A
t last he was alone. With a sigh of relief, he fetched a new bottle of whisky and settled down in bed alone. It was safer that way. Women caused him no end of trouble.

A
LTHOUGH
M
EGAN
WOULD
NEVER
have admitted it openly, she knew Dirk was unfaithful. She tried not to speculate about where he went at night. She knew that if he ever suspected her of checking up on him, their relationship would be over. Dirk had chosen her. He wanted to be with her, but he was weak. With so many girls throwing themselves at him, she accepted that he didn’t always manage to resist their wiles. She clung to the hope that, when they left college, everything would change. They would live together without other students around to lead him astray.

A
t the moment she suspected he was screwing a married woman, because he was so secretive about what he was up to. He regularly stayed out on Friday nights. She didn’t believe him when he said he went out drinking with his mates and stayed with a guy who had a spare room.

‘I just want to know who these mates of yours are,’ she had protested. ‘It’s not unreasonable. What if I need to get in touch with you?’

‘What could you have to say that was so urgent it couldn’t wait till the next day?’

‘Things happen,’ she had answered miserably.

T
hey both knew she was right to be suspicious, but he refused to give in to her nagging. Eventually he had gone on the attack.