Nothing but Trouble (35 page)

He was surprised that Martin Locke hadn’t called to find out what had happened on Friday. For a man who was convinced of his
wife’s infidelity, and willing to pay good money to have her investigated, he seemed curiously uninterested in the outcome.
But then again, he could simply be putting off the news – be it good or bad – until he returned from his business trip. There
was nothing Locke could do while he was away, so perhaps he preferred to remain in ignorance.

Harry took one last look in the mirror, made a final adjustment to his tie and went through to the living room. Jess was already
there, sitting on the sofa and flicking through a magazine. She stood up as he came in and his eyes widened in appreciation.
She was wearing a simple but classy sleeveless black dress that showed off all her curves. His gaze ran the length of her
body and lingered for a second on her feet and ankles. What was it about high heels that always set his pulse racing? He gave
a low whistle of appreciation.

‘Very foxy, Ms Vaughan.’

‘Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.’

‘So, ready for a night on the town?’

She picked up her bag and slipped it over her shoulder. ‘Don’t you mean a night spying on some poor unsuspecting woman who
has seriously bad taste in husbands?’

Harry grinned. ‘Well, that might be what I’ll be doing, but you’ll be free to squander all my money on the roulette table.’

‘And if I win?’

‘Then we split the proceeds,’ he said. ‘Fifty-fifty.’

‘It’s a deal.’

Harry locked up the flat and they went downstairs. Outside he beeped open the doors to the silver Vauxhall and walked around
to the driver’s side. He got in straight away, but Jess stood for a while gazing along the street in the direction of the
Fox. He glanced behind to see what she was looking at but couldn’t figure out what or who had caught her attention. It was
just after seven, and the rush hour was over. Apart from a short queue at the bus stop, there was nothing much to see. A few
seconds later she climbed in beside him.

‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

She hesitated, then gave a shrug. ‘It’s nothing. I just thought … It doesn’t matter.’

‘You still worried about that phone call?’ Jess had told him about what had happened in the supermarket. It was enough to
freak anyone out, especially after what she’d already been through.

‘I suppose if nothing else it shows that I must be on the right track. Someone’s certainly worried about what I’m doing.’
She pulled her seat belt across and clicked it into place. ‘But I still can’t figure out how they even got hold of the number.
I only bought the phone yesterday.’

Harry started the engine, checked his mirror and moved off. ‘Who have you given it to?’

‘You, Neil, Lorna, Sam.’ She furrowed her brow, trying to remember. ‘Oh, and Ralph Masterson has it too.’

‘You think he could be involved?’

‘Well I don’t think it was him on the phone, and I can’t really see him following me around Kellston. But I suppose he could
have passed it on to someone else.’

‘Anything distinctive about the voice?’

Jess shook her head. ‘It wasn’t that clear, but I think it was a London accent. Not especially old or young.’ She gave a light
laugh. ‘Which really narrows it down. A man somewhere
between twenty-five and fifty-five who owns a mobile phone. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find, huh?’

Harry gave her a sideways glance. Despite all the bravado, he knew that she was shaken up. First the fire, and now this. ‘Maybe
you should let the police know.’

‘What’s the point? There’s nothing they can do about it. I’d only be wasting my time.’

Harry shrugged. Although Jess hadn’t given any details, he suspected that her interview with Val hadn’t gone well. Which wasn’t
that surprising bearing in mind his own frosty reception. Anyway, most of the police effort was currently concentrated on
finding Becky Hibbert’s ex, Dan Livesey, and they simply weren’t interested in an unlikely link to the past. ‘So what about
Masterson? Did he have anything interesting to say?’

As Jess was repeating her conversation with the old probation officer, Harry noticed how she kept glancing over her shoulder.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We’re not being followed.’

‘How can you be sure? I mean, with all this traffic …’

‘Because I’ve been keeping an eye out. Unless we’re dealing with professionals using two or three vehicles, there’s definitely
no one on our tail.’ He heard her expel a light sigh of relief. ‘And don’t worry about the flat, either. We’ve got cameras
being installed on the stairs soon. That way we can see everyone who comes in off the street.’

Jess frowned at him. ‘Not on my account, I hope. I’m okay. That call just … it just shook me up a bit.’

‘I know. But it makes sense to have more security about the place. Lorna’s often in the office on her own. She’ll feel safer
with the cameras there.’ They hit a red light and Harry pulled up. While they were waiting, he returned to their earlier subject.
‘So,’ he said, ‘what’s your gut feeling about Ralph Masterson?’

Jess pulled a face. ‘Good question. He’s certainly angry and resentful, but whether he’d go as far as murder … I’m not sure
if he’s capable of that. He didn’t want to talk about Stella Towney, though. He claimed they hadn’t been in touch since the
trial.’

‘You think he was lying?’

Jess gave a nod. ‘For sure. But I don’t understand why.’

‘Maybe he’s trying to protect her. Maybe he thought that if he agreed to talk to you, if he gave you as much information as
he could, then you wouldn’t go sniffing round Stella.’

‘Er, excuse me,’ she said. ‘I don’t
sniff.
I investigate and I report.’

Harry grinned. ‘My mistake.’ The lights changed and he shifted the car forward. ‘Well, maybe he just didn’t want Stella bothered,
especially if what Maggie McConnell said is true.’

‘I’m hardly likely to go hassling a woman with Alzheimer’s. Give me some credit.’

‘I suppose he doesn’t know what you’re capable of. Some journalists – present company excepted – don’t have too many moral
boundaries when it comes to rooting out a story.’

Jess glanced over her shoulder again, as if she simply couldn’t help herself. She saw him looking at her and smiled. ‘Sorry.
It’s developing into a nervous twitch.’ She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then said, ‘I thought I might try and
see Clare Towney tomorrow. Do you want to come along?’

‘Do you really think that’s a good idea?’

‘What, you coming along or my going to see Clare?’

‘The latter,’ he said. ‘I don’t imagine she’ll take too kindly to being doorstepped. I know I wouldn’t.’

‘Well, I’ll call her first. I won’t just turn up.’

‘And if she refuses to talk to you?’

Jess was saved from making a reply by an incoming phone call on the hands-free system. Harry pressed and released the button
on the steering wheel. ‘Warren,’ he said. ‘Good news, I hope.’

‘Yeah, no problems. She’s in a cab and heading towards the West End.’

‘Great. Stick with her for a while just in case.’

‘Will do,’ Warren said. ‘I’ll give you a call if anything changes.’

‘Thanks. See you later.’ Harry ended the call, relieved that they hadn’t had a wasted journey. ‘Game on,’ he said as they
joined the line of cars in Park Lane. ‘It looks like she’s going to work.’

The corners of Jess’s mouth twitched before her lips widened into a mischievous smile. ‘So you’re about to see the lovely
Aimee Locke again. Is your heart beating just a little bit faster?’

In truth, Harry
was
looking forward to seeing Aimee again. He hadn’t had a glimpse since last Friday night at Adriano’s, and she had made quite
an impression on him then. On the single other occasion that she had gone out, it had been Warren who’d been on surveillance.
‘If I didn’t know you better, Vaughan, I might think you were the one with a teensy-weensy little crush.’

‘In your dreams, sweetheart. Mind, if I
was
that way inclined …’

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you mind? I’m trying to negotiate some tricky traffic here. I don’t need images like those
running through my head.’

‘Admit it,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t kick the goddess out of bed.’

Harry wasn’t about to admit anything. The last time he’d mixed business with pleasure, it hadn’t ended well. Bones had been
broken and people had died. A sudden image of Ellen Shaw, small and dark and vulnerable, rose into his mind. He felt a tightening
in his chest, a squeezing of his heart. He might be a fool when it came to love, but even fools learned from their mistakes.
On no account was he ever going
there
again.

Valerie had left Cowan Road at six and driven home to get changed. After taking a shower and doing her make-up, she’d spent
the next half-hour trying to decide what to wear for her drink with Simon Wetherby. She’d been reluctant to think of it as
a date, partly because of her confusing on–off relationship with Harry and partly because she didn’t want to ponder too much
on what it would mean to embark on a relationship with someone new.

Unsure as to what effect she wanted to create, she had gone through the palaver of dragging endless garments out of the wardrobe,
holding them up to her body, gazing into the mirror and then throwing them on the bed. Too smart, too casual, too sexy, too
boring. By the time she’d eventually chosen a dark green dress that flattered her figure without being too revealing, it had
been time to leave.

The Fox was only five minutes from Silverstone Heights, and so she’d left the car at home and walked. Simon had been waiting
for her outside the pub when she’d arrived shortly after seven. She had felt butterflies in her stomach as she saw him
standing by the door. He really was very good-looking, with his wide brown eyes and tawny gold hair. Dressed in a smart grey
suit, he’d obviously made an effort, and Valerie was glad that she had worn the dress rather than anything more casual.

Simon had greeted her with a peck on the cheek, told her she looked stunning and held the door open for her as they went inside.
So far, so good, she had thought. But she’d still been nervous about how the evening would go. Getting on with someone on
a work basis was one thing, but socialising with them could be quite another.

Within a few minutes, however, all her reservations had disappeared. Over a glass of wine the conversation flowed easily,
and she quickly relaxed. He was amusing, intelligent and charming. He also listened to what she had to say. After the frustrating
day she’d had – still no leads on the whereabouts of Dan Livesey, and a blank on any useful forensics – it was a relief to
wind down and relax with someone who understood the trials and tribulations of the job.

Now, almost an hour after they’d arrived, he leaned across the table, smiled and said, ‘So, Inspector, if you don’t mind me
asking, what made you change your mind about coming out for a drink?’

She smiled back at him. ‘You want the honest truth? I couldn’t bear the tragic disappointment on your face.’

He grimaced in mock dismay. ‘Was it that obvious? And here was me thinking I was being Mr Cool.’

‘Mr Cool? I think that one needs some work.’

Simon laughed, opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Oh, I was just … No, it doesn’t matter.’

‘Go on,’ she urged. ‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what it was.’

Simon played with his glass for a moment, turning it in circles before slowly raising his eyes to look at her again. ‘Well,
I like you, you already know that, but I don’t want to tread on anybody’s toes.’

Valerie stiffened a little. She pushed a strand of hair back from her face. ‘And whose toes would those be?’

‘Harry Lind’s. Someone said that you two were still together, and …’ He let go of the glass and placed his elbows on the table.
‘Hey, it’s none of my business, right? Just tell me to keep my nose out.’

‘You’ve been listening to office gossip.’

He put his hands up for a second. ‘Guilty as charged. Except … well, no one was actually gossiping about you. I made a few
discreet enquiries. Do you mind?’

Valerie gave a light shrug. She wasn’t sure whether she minded or not. On one hand, it was flattering that he’d been interested
enough to find out if she was single or not; on the other, she was none too happy to discover that her private life apparently
wasn’t that private. She wondered who’d told him about Harry. Swann perhaps. Simon had spent a fair amount of time over at
Cowan Road recently, and Kieran was hardly the discreet sort.

‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘No, it’s okay.’ She took a sip of wine and put the glass back on the table. ‘I do still see Harry, we’ve stayed in touch,
but we’re not …’ She struggled to complete the sentence. Not serious? Not going anywhere? Not committed? Thinking of Jessica
Vaughan, she frowned. She doubted if Harry’s conscience was bothering him as much as hers was. ‘We’re still friends,’ she
said finally.

Simon gave a nod. ‘That’s good.’

‘And you?’ she said.

He wrinkled his brow, as if he didn’t understand. ‘Me?’

‘You know what I mean.’

He smiled at her again. ‘Actually, I just met someone. But I’m not sure how much she likes me.’

Valerie felt a light blush rise into her cheeks. She’d been out with other men during her split from Harry, but none of them
had made her feel the way she was feeling at the moment. She had a connection with Simon that had been missing with the others.
She looked into his eyes and said softly, ‘Maybe she’s still making up her mind.’

‘Well, I’m the patient sort. She can take as long as she likes.’

There was one of those brief silences that seemed to brim over with unspoken words, with possibilities and tingling hopes.
Valerie was the first to break it. ‘Changing the subject,’ she said. ‘Have you ever come across a guy called Micky Higgs?’