Lipstick and Lies (48 page)

Morag put one ear against the door
.
She
listened intently.
‘I can’t hear anything,’ she whispered.
‘Shame
these
apartments don’t have letterboxes
,
otherwise we
could peer into the hallway.’

‘Somehow I don’t think we’re going to find Stevie in
Selina’s
hallway,’ I sighed.
‘I know.
Why don’t we knock?
If he’s in there – but unable to get to
the door – he could call out.’

‘Cass, I’m
quite
sure if Stevie was being held prisoner he’d be yell
ing his head off,’ said Morag.

‘Not,’ my eyes widened, ‘if he was bound and ga
gged.’

Morag shuddered.
‘Don’t say that Cass.
That sounds horrible.’

‘Well that’s why we’re here isn’t it
,
’ I hissed
, ‘b
ecause we suspect
dodgy
circumstances
!
Go on.
Knock on the door.’

‘
No, y
ou knock on the door.’

‘Oh for goodness sake
,’
I
huffed
.
‘W
e’ll
knock on it together.
After three.
One...two...three.’

We rapped on the door and
instantly
sprang backwards
,
as if
the wooden panels
were red hot.
It remained shut.
No sound came from within.

‘Oh my goodness.
Look,’ I pointed down the landing.
I’d initially assumed it was a window set in the wall.
In fact it was a glass door.
A fire exit.
‘Let’s see if it’s unlocked.
We might be able to peek into Selina’s apartment from a mez
zanine platform or something.’

We scuttled over to the door and peered out.
Sure enough there was an open steel floor that wrapped around one part of Selina’s apartment
.
It connected
up to a series of staircases that criss-crossed all the way down to the communal gardens.
A fire escape.
We were at the rear of the building.
I levered down the door handle.
It creaked open.
So much for Victor’s Neighbourhood Watch.
Any wannabe burglar could simply jump the garden fence, climb the fire escape and walk
right
in.
Cold air blasted our faces as we stepped out onto the platform.
It was windy up here
,
and
the long brown
tresses of my wig
whipped
about.
I put a hand
up
to stop the wig from taking off.
Turning, I indicated
that
Morag
should
follow me.
Together we eased our way along the platform.
It ran
straight
past
a
window of Selina’s apartment.

‘
That must be
her kitchen
.
’ I
indicated
an extractor fan and vent set into part of the wall
.

‘Let’s check it out.’

We darted across the platform and ducked below the window sill.
Crouching down,
we
e
yeballed each other anxiously.

‘Come up slowly,’ I said to Morag.
She nodded
by way of
response.
Together the pair of us peered over Selina’s window ledge and gazed into a modest kitchen.
It was nothing like the contemporary granite and steel jobbie in Ethan’s penthouse.
Plain white cabinets and a matching worktop ran the length of one wall.
On the other side was a
sink
, washing machine and ancient
fridge.
In the centre of the kitchen was a small table with two chairs
on
either side.
I pressed my nose up to the glass.
Papers were scattered across the table.
Three small bottles of liquid stood side by side.
There were labels on them
,
but I couldn’t
decipher the writing
.
They looked like the sort of bottles I
had in my medicine cabinet at home, full of liquid vitamins for the children
.

‘Can’t see anything unusual,’ I said.
‘Can you?’

‘Well, Stevie’s not in the kitchen that’s for sure.’
Morag stood up.
Lowering her sunglasses, she peered through the window pane.
‘What’s that on the table?’

‘
Vitamins
I think
.
And n
otes
of some sort
.’

Morag stared hard.
‘Not vitamins Cass.
I would hazard a guess it’s something medic
inal
.
Something you’d get on prescription.’
She
squinted hard
.
‘I can’t read the label properly.
Whatever it is, it begins with G.
Let me take a picture
.
’
S
he whipped out her mobile phone and
switched it to camera mode
.
‘You never know
,
it might come in handy later.’

Another gust of wind tugged at my wig.
‘Come on.
Let’s go.
We’ve been on a wild goose chase.
Stevie’s not here.
Whoever sent that last text, it would seem
we’re
going to have to rule Selina out.
I
might
mention it to
Charlotte
though.
Just in case she can put her finger on anything.
Perhaps she can go back to Stevie’s house
.
H
ave another look around for any indications of Stevie having an affair with a second woman.’
My stomach let out a growl of hunger.
I’d had no breakfast and it was coming up to lunchtime.
At least the earlier nausea had disappeared.
‘Come on.
Let’s get out of here and back to Nell’s.
She can make us a couple of bacon butties.’
Sud
denly I was ravenously hungry.

‘S
ounds good to me,’ said Morag.

We clanked back along the steel platform.
I pulled open the fire escape door and stepped back onto the carpeted landing.
A
fter being out in the bright winter light
, for a moment
I couldn’t see a thing.
I blinked rapidly
at the shadows
and waited for my eyes to adjust.
And when they did, my heart sank.
Victor was standing there.

‘Ah.
Miss Marple.
Mrs Dobbin.
I wondered where you’d both go
ne
.
So, did the fire escape yield any industrial saws whirring away at distressing noise levels?’

The sarcasm was unmistakable.
I felt a rush of anxiety.
Victor
was giving off a bad vibe.
I had a feeling we’d been rumbled.
If Morag felt alarmed, she was doing a good job at hiding it.
She peered into the gloom over the top of her sunglasses
.
H
er eyes
found
Victor
’s
.

‘I am very pleased to report that no saws, industrial or otherwise, have been
located.
I’ve made some notes.
’
Morag stood up to her full height and indicated the clipboard.
‘It’s all here
,
and I shall be reporting back to the Counc
il immediately.’

‘Very good,’ said Victor
.
He was
blocking our access to the stairs.
‘And what Counc
il did you say you were from?’

‘I didn’t,’ said Morag crisply.
My eyes had now fully adjusted to the internal light
,
and I was horrified to see Morag’s wig
askew
.
Pale blonde hair
poked out from
the Jesse J hairpiece.
‘I merely
said I was from the Council.’

‘Well I’m asking you now
.
W
hich Council?’

‘That is classi
fied information,’ said Morag.

Suddenly Victor’s hand shot out.
For a moment I thought he was going to hit Morag.
Instead he grabbed her clipboard.
His eyes scanned the equine
diet
sheet.

‘
Cuthbert – two portions of hay, must be damped down.
Bramble – bran mashes with a handful of sugar beet.
Matt – s
ex food until further notice.’

‘Give me that
.
’
Morag snatched the clipboard back.
‘I’ll have you know this is
a
confidential
report
.’

‘Mrs Dobbin – if that is indeed your real name – I don’t know who you are or what you are doing here
.
B
ut I
will be giving
a full
account
o
f
your visit to Neighbourhood Watch
.
A
nd
the same information
will be
passed
on to the police.
It is quite apparent to me the pair of you are casing the building for burglary
and
–’

We didn’t wait to hear the rest of Victor’s suspicions.
Morag shoved him to one side
.
G
rabbing me by the hand,
she
yanked me after her.
We fairly flew across the landing
,
and almost hurled ourselves down the entire flight of stairs.
B
y the time we’d reached the ground floor
,
our wigs had flown off.
I was aware of Victor coming after us.
For an old boy he could certainly shift.
But not as quickly as us.
Morag shouldered the entrance door open and
sprinted
, hand out, key fob extended
, to the Galaxy
.
She popped
the central locking
and we threw
ourselves into the
vehicle.
The engine burst into life and tyres
squealed as the
vehicle
shot backwards
– nearly
knocking Victor over in the process.
Hell’s bells
.
That was all we needed.
Not only arrested on suspicion of burglary but wanted for flatteni
ng a pensioner in the process.

‘Oh my God Cass,’ Morag gasped
.
‘H
e’s making a note of my registration number.
I’
ll be
arrested.
’

‘Don’t panic,’ I clutched my chest, convinced I was about to have a coronary
.
M
orag swerved out into traffic and blaring horns
.
‘I
t’s our word against his.
We’ll say we popped round to see Selina and he got the wrong end of the stick.
He’s a doddery pensioner at the end of the day.
We’ll make out he has
senile dementia or something.’

‘And I’ve lost my lovely wigs!’ said Morag.
‘How are we going to explain the wigs if we get questioned by a pol
ice officer?’

‘We don’t,’ I gasped.
‘We make ou
t we know nothing about them.’

‘From now on Cass,’ Morag
said as we hurtled
onto the dual carriageway, ‘we leave Stevie to his own devices.
Whatever is going on, he’s a big boy
.
I’m sure he can handle himsel
f.’

I
gripped hold of the door handle for support as
Morag
shot
into the outside lane.
I didn’t know where Stevie was or what had happened to him.
But one thing I did know
.
I
f Morag and I had the police knocking on our doors, we were going to have our work cut out explaining ourselves.