Out of Promises (14 page)

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Authors: Simon Leigh

BOOK: Out of Promises
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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

 

Marco’s Pasta Italia was more high class than Valerie expected with table service and a wine list longer than her arm.  She had the water; Bill had wine – only one glass, though.  She wondered if he was treating this like a date.  He was too forward for her liking and she still didn’t trust him, but she really didn’t want to say anything to change the mood or explain anything else to him just yet.

Not feeling hungry, she watched her lasagne going cold in front of her, now and then averting her gaze to people talking happily, thankful to have a time out to get her head sorted.

Bill said with a full mouth of spaghetti, ‘I can’t think of a time I had better company.’

‘Yeah.’

He swallowed another large helping.  ‘You not hungry, missy?’

‘Can you please stop calling me that?  It’s degrading.’

He let out a long winded huff.  ‘You sure are moody today.’

Louder than she wanted, she said, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

People looked over.

He held up his hands as an apology before she started again.  ‘You need to eat, Val.  You don’t know where your next meal will come from.’

He was right and she knew it.  She had to try and eat.  He was kind enough to help and she wanted to try and make it work, knowing that without him she wouldn’t have come this far.

Forcing herself, she dug the fork through the layers of meat and cheese, stuffing it into her mouth.  The savouriness mixed with the tomatoes and creamy sauce woke her senses.  She wanted more.

Bill smiled.  ‘So how long have you been with the organization?’

She ignored him.

‘You got a boyfriend?’

She flicked her eyes up at him, still not answering.

‘You want to talk about what happened with Dave?’

God dammit.

‘You know what happened!’ she snapped, dropping the fork on the plate.  More glances came from other tables.  ‘We’ve been through this already.  That fat waste of space, as Ada called him, was treating this whole thing like a joke.’

‘Ada was a dead end, wasn’t she?  Though I do wonder who killed Harry.’

‘Think she was right and he was murdered?’

‘Yeah, I don’t think it was the ramblings of a grieving widow.’  He took a sip of wine.  ‘This wine is delicious.  You should try some.’

Shaking her head, she drank some water.  ‘Wonder why nobody took any notice of her.’

‘Probably because they don’t see it as a case.  They’d have to re-open the case files and get officers on it they don’t have.  He crashed while under the influence apparently.  Open shut case.’

‘Open shut to who?  Ada doesn’t think so.’

A waiter came over and refilled her water.

‘You were a cop, Bill.  Tell me, do the cops make a habit of ignoring people?’

He didn’t like that question.  It was offensive.  He’d spent a long time on the force and planned to dedicate his life doing anything he could to fight crime, so the suggestion that the police ignore people was insulting, though he couldn’t deny it happened.  ‘Hey, come on.  I never ignored anyone.  Especially a damsel in distress.’

‘Why’d you leave the force?’ she asked.  ‘You do something bad?’

‘It’s personal.’

She watched him.

He asked, ‘You don’t trust me, do you?’

‘It’s nothing personal.’

‘Who says I trust you?’ he said light heartedly.

Holding her glass in her hand, she looked over to him.  ‘Who says you do?’

He smiled again.  ‘So tell me about yourself, Val.  Let me get to know you a bit more.’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’

‘There’s always something.  What about your childhood?’

‘Like I said, there’s nothing to tell.  Just drop it.’

He held his tongue and let her eat.

Customers came in and a chill wafted through the restaurant.

‘Winter’s here,’ he said.

‘Let me ask you one thing,’ she said.

‘Go for it.’

‘Why are you helping me?  I don’t see there’s anything you can possible gain from this.  I’m not paying you.’

He grinned broadly.  ‘I’d hate to see something bad happen to such a pretty lady.’

‘Whatever.’

‘So you got any ideas what we do now?’ he asked.

‘No.’

‘We could try the church?  Daylight might give us a fresh perspective.’

The church.  The place it all started to go wrong for her.  She stopped eating for a second.  She really didn’t want to see that place again, knowing it would be with her forever.  It would pass into a distant memory eventually, but it would still be there, affecting her decisions for the rest of her life.

This time she had Bill with her.

‘All right.  But not for long, OK?’

 

Files were spread over the desk and pinned to notice boards.  Pictures of Matherson’s family tree littered the walls beside maps and addresses.

Standing loyally beside his master’s wheelchair, the scarred man waited patiently in a daydream thinking of Valerie.

‘Cyrus,’ his master said. ‘I want you and Lenka to find Valerie and Bill.  They’ve gone off the radar.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yes, I want Valerie’s body on a slab.’

Cyrus didn’t want to kill Valerie – that was one order he would never follow.  He wanted her for himself.  ‘Yes, sir.  I’ll go and find her right away.  What shall I do with Bill?’

‘Bring him in, we need him.’

With a nod, he walked out of the room.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

 

Promising snow clouds overshadowed Saint Patrick’s church as it towered over the neighbouring houses.

On Valerie’s suggestion, and because they didn’t know who or what to expect, Bill had parked a street away to reduce the amount eyes that would see his licence plate.

Valerie felt different now.  The daylight had altered her perception changing the church from something menacing to more of the kind of place she came to expect.

But it was still, and always will be, the place she found her friend’s body.

News vans were bunched together on the field to the left and the police cordon was still being guarded by an officer while men in white moved back and forth from the church.

A sign above the church door said:

 

The fool hath said in his heart - there is no God, psalm 53.

 

Not something she personally believed in.  She smiled thinking of Freddie with his usual complaints: ‘
What a load of shit.’
  It annoyed her, but she missed it.

She asked Bill, ‘Is your friend here?’

‘Huh?’

‘The one who told you about the revolver.’

‘Oh, yeah.’  Bill pointed at one of the officers manning the barrier at the road.  ‘We used to work together on the force.’

‘How long were you cop?’

‘Long enough.  Shall we go?’

Bill took the lead, greeted with a smile from Officer ‘Columbo’ Anderson.

Bill held out a hand as he walked towards him.  ‘Columbo, how you been?  Thought you’d be behind a desk by now.’

He took Bill’s hand.  ‘Can’t beat being on the streets, Bill.  How’ve you been?  We’ve missed you on the force.’

Bill looked hurt, reliving some emotional pain from his past.  ‘Yeah, can’t protect everybody.’  He introduced Valerie, ‘This is Sarah, a client.’

Columbo stretched a hand to her.

She took it. ‘So you’re Bill’s inside man?’

‘Huh?’

Bill cleared his throat.  ‘Mind if we go in and have a look?  Sarah here knew the victim.’

‘Afraid not, Bill.  It’s not a place for people to be snooping around just yet.  Maybe you could speak with Father McGregor, he’s in that house over there.’ He pointed to Irene Hex’s home.

Relief swooped over Valerie, thankful she didn’t have to see that place again.

‘Thanks, Columbo,’ said Bill.

Half way across the road, Valerie stepped in front of Bill, stopping him.  ‘What the hell was that back there?’

‘Nothing.’  He walked past her.

‘Looked to me like he didn’t know what you were talking about.  Did he really tell you about the revolver?’

‘Valerie, just drop it.  Some things should be left alone, OK?  We’re on the same side, don’t get paranoid on me.’

Perhaps she was being paranoid, but she had good reason to be.

Not wanting a fight, she left it, though she didn’t forget it.

They walked through the gate to Irene Hex’s home.  One thing Valerie’s apartment missed was a garden and, although she appreciated the effort people went through to keep them looking as magnificent as this one, it wasn’t her.

Bill accidentally stepped on some overhanging shrubs by the side of the path. 

Valerie said, ‘Watch your step.  We’re being watched.’

Glancing along the path to a window, some white hair floated inside.  ‘What?’ he said.  ‘She’s got plenty more flowers to look at.’

Irene opened the door before they had chance to knock.

Bill reached into his pocket to show his ID.  ‘Irene Hex?  My name is Bill Yates.  I’m here to speak with Father McGregor about the incident this morning.’

With her top lip slightly raised, she looked him up and down disapprovingly and said with a slightly annoyed tone, ‘I see.  Please come inside.’  She moved aside, keeping her eyes on him.

‘Thank you,’ he said and walked through to the living room.

Irene stopped Valerie at the door and waited for Bill to leave their sight.  ‘He can’t be trusted, you know.  Keep away from that one.’

Valerie just smiled, taking it as the ramblings of a crazy old lady.

They walked into the living room to find the haunted and pale face of Father McGregor staring into space on the sofa.

Valerie looked around, amazed at the overbearing floral décor.

Jesus.

‘Father McGregor, my name is Bill Yates.  I’m a private investigator, this is Sarah Smith.  She knew Freddie.’

He looked up at her, a ghost of his former self.  ‘I am so sorry for your loss, how may I help you?’

‘We would just like to ask you a few questions.’

Irene walked into the room with a tray, glaring at Bill.

‘Let me help you with that,’ Bill offered.

‘No, thank you,’ she replied, setting the tray down.

Father McGregor said, ‘I’ve been asked some questions already this morning.’

Irene put a cup of tea in front of him.  He ignored it and sat back in the chair with his hands in his pocket.

Bill said, ‘Would it be all right if we asked you a few more?  For our own investigation?’

McGregor looked odd, like he’d just remembered something.  Pulling his hands from his pockets, he held an item.  ‘Oh my.  I completely forgot about this.  I found it in the church this morning.’

‘May I have a look?’ asked Bill.

McGregor handed it over.

‘This is a lock pick,’ said Bill.  ‘May we take this?’

‘I really should give it to the police.’

Irene snatched it from Bill’s hands, handing it back to Father McGregor, who placed it on the coffee table.

Beaten by an old lady.

Father McGregor asked, ‘Do you have anything else you would like to ask?’

Valerie wanted to ask a question. ‘Did you know Freddie?’

‘Not personally, but I knew Lucy.  She spoke of Freddie fondly.  She still loved him, but couldn’t forgive him for what had happened.’

Valerie nodded, taking it all in.

‘Please excuse me,’ he said.  ‘I must use the bathroom.’

‘OK, Father, we must be going now anyway,’ said Bill.

Valerie whispered, ‘What?’

‘Bear with me,’ he whispered back.

They shook hands and he handed Father McGregor a business card.  ‘Please call me if you think of anything else.’

At the front door, Bill said, ‘Thank you, Mrs Hex,’ and left.

Irene said nothing to him, watching until he’d left her property before closing the door.

‘Looks like you made a new friend,’ Valerie said.

Back in the car, they sat in silence for a few minutes watching the world go by.  As usual, Valerie was full of questions.

‘Before you start, I had good reason to leave that house.’

‘What possible reason?  He knew Lucy.  I wanted to know more.’

‘I’m sorry, but after this is all over you can ask him.  We had to leave.’

‘Why?’

‘Because of this,’ he said, bringing out the lock pick.

‘You stole from a man of God?  Bill, you’re going to hell.’

‘I’m going there anyway.  It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done.’

‘What is?’

‘I’ll tell you one day.  Right now we need to go to Fosters and Co.’  He showed her the engraving.  ‘See, this was found in the church and could be from the man who shot Freddie.  Unless you think it was Freddie’s?’

‘No.  We never use them.’

‘Well then.  I know you disagree with how I do things, but it hasn’t hurt us so far has it?’

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