Chapter Fifteen

Lily’s flatmates were staying with a friend who lived in the same road. Another big house, this time on the corner, with a garden at the back. It didn’t seem to be split into flats. A student house, maybe. Vera rang the bell, hit it again when there was no response. She was about to ring it a third time when there were footsteps and the door opened. The young woman standing in the doorway was tiny, with chopped blonde hair, the build of a ten-year-old, eyes expertly made up to look enormous.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Annie’s out.’

‘I’m not looking for Annie.’ Vera flashed her warrant card and walked in without waiting to be asked. ‘It’s Emma and Louise I’m after. Lily’s friends.’

The woman seemed flustered. ‘Of course. Sorry to keep you waiting. Annie’s taken her daughter to ballet. Lou and I were having a late breakfast in the garden. After hearing about Lily, then camping out here, neither of us slept very well. Come on through. I’m Emma.’ Not a local voice. Southern. Rich.

She was wearing leather flip-flops and tripped ahead of them, talking all the way. Not a student house after all. No beer cans or loud music, unsafe wiring or peeling wallpaper. A family lived here. There was a small bicycle propped against the wall in the corridor, a child’s paintings on the kitchen notice-board. But still wealthy. If Annie was a single mother she wasn’t struggling financially.

‘Is Annie a student too?’ No reason for needing to know, but Vera had always been nosy.

‘No. She’s older than me. She lectures. On the course Lily was taking, actually. She’s a sort of cousin of mine. Her husband works away a lot and when we were flat-hunting, we thought it would be nice if we could find somewhere close.’

‘Very convenient,’ Vera said, wondering what it was about this woman she disliked so much.

‘Yes.’ Emma turned briefly then led them out onto a flagged patio where four wooden chairs stood around a table. The garden was small, surrounded by a high wall. Blackbirds were calling somewhere in the ivy.

Emma continued talking. ‘This is my flatmate, Louise. Lou, it’s the police.’

Louise seemed still to be wearing pyjamas. Her feet were bare, her hair unbrushed. She nodded to them, played with the croissant flakes on her plate.

‘I’ll just put on some more coffee,’ Emma said.

Vera sat down heavily. ‘Not for us, pet. This isn’t a social call. We’ve not much time. We just wanted to talk about Lily.’

‘Of course.’

‘How long have the three of you been living together?’

‘Well, we met up in the first year. Same hall of residence, though we were all doing different stuff. Lily was into English, Louise did languages and I’m a medic. That’s why the three of us are still here when most of our friends have left. Our courses last longer than the standard three years and Lily was doing a PGCE. We shared a kitchen then, got on OK, decided to move in together.’

‘How could you afford to live in a road like this, like?’ Emphasizing the accent, playing the dumb cop. It never hurt if they underestimated you.

‘Well, it was down to my dad, actually. He thought he might as well buy somewhere. Thought it would be a decent investment. We’d pay enough rent to cover the mortgage. I mean, it’s still not cheap, but when you look at some of the places other students live… My parents are great. They give me an allowance.’

‘But Lily didn’t come from that sort of background, did she? How did she keep up with the rent?’

Emma shrugged. ‘She never said. I think her dad was made redundant at the end of her first year and gave her something to start her off. She didn’t pay as much as us, because her room is a bit smaller. And she worked on Saturdays and in the holidays.’

‘Tell me about her. Living together that long, you must have known her as well as anyone.’

For the first time Emma seemed lost for words. It was Louise who answered.

‘Nobody knew her very well.’

‘But three lasses together. You must have confided in each other.’

‘Not really. Not Lily.’

‘There’d have been nights out in town, a few drinks. She’d let down her hair then.’

‘I don’t think Lily ever let go in that way, Inspector. She was very controlled, very focused. Ambitious, I suppose. Something to do with the background she came from. She worked much harder than the rest of us.’

‘Was she ever ill?’

‘Nothing serious. A cold, throat infection. Just like the rest of us.’

‘You never worried that she might be depressed? Keeping herself so isolated.’

‘No. I don’t think she was that isolated. She just didn’t include us in the rest of her life.’

‘Where were you both last night?’

Louise answered. ‘It was my birthday. We went out for a meal. A whole gang of us.’

‘What about Lily?’ Vera asked. ‘Were you expecting her to be there too?’

‘I asked her of course, but I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t turn up. It wasn’t really her thing.’

Why not? Did you make her uncomfortable with your confident voices and your parents’ money?

‘Did she have a boyfriend?’

There was a silence. The women flashed a glance at each other. ‘We think she must have done,’ Emma said at last. ‘There were nights when she didn’t come home. But he never came to the flat. At least, not when we were in.’

‘And she never talked about him?’

‘Not to us.’ Emma paused. ‘Look, Inspector, in some ways Lily was a model tenant. Thoughtful, tidy. That’s why I wanted her to come in with us in the first place. But we were never friends. Not really. I can’t think of any reason why anyone would have wanted to kill her. But I wouldn’t know. Her life was a mystery to us.’

It was lunchtime and Vera brought the team together, bought in sandwiches, proper coffee, doughnuts. Anything to keep up the energy levels. After the catnap in the car she felt on top of the world, but she knew the younger members didn’t have her stamina. Still, they were a bit more alert now. A second body. A bright young woman. Somehow that made the case more exciting. They hadn’t been able to get worked up about a lad with a learning disability, but a pretty student and suddenly they were buzzing. She told herself she was too cynical for her own good.

She filled them in on the visits to Lily’s parents and the flat, walking backwards and forwards at the front of the room, in and out of the light streaming in from the windows.

‘The lasses she shared with are camping out at a neighbour’s house until the search team has finished. Of course we asked if Lily was at the flat on the night Luke Armstrong was killed. She wasn’t there. It wasn’t unusual for her to stay out. That’s why they presumed she had a boyfriend.’

‘Didn’t they ask about him? They must have been curious.’ This was from Holly Lawson. Eager, fresh-faced, looked like a sixth-former. ‘I mean, you might say you respected someone’s privacy, but really you’d want to know. Wouldn’t you?’ She looked around her.

‘You’re probably right. Go back and talk to the flatmates,’ Vera said. ‘You might get more out of them. You’re nearer their age.’ She took a sip from the cardboard cup. The coffee had been OK at the beginning of the meeting, but it was already cold and she could feel the grounds on her tongue. She set the cup on the table, went up to the windows and pulled the blinds to keep the worst of the sun out of her eyes. The room seemed suddenly gloomy, the people in it blurred shadows.

‘I think we’ll have to bite the bullet and have a news conference,’ she said. ‘I don’t want anything about the scene to get out. Not the flowers. Not the cause of death. The last thing we need is a copy-cat killer. I told the group who found the body that if they speak to the press they’ll have me to answer to. But someone must have seen the corpse being carried from the car park to the rocks. There’s that stretch of grass to cover and there’s usually someone there. Dog walkers. Parents with young kids. We’ll get the press liaison people to set it up.

‘Now, what have you got for me?’ Vera had landed on the desk at the front. Like a teacher. She wondered what sort of teacher Lily would have made.

‘We’ve found someone at the university to look at the flowers,’ Holly said. ‘A Dr Calvert. Senior lecturer.’

‘No.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Peter Calvert. He won’t do. He found the second body. At least, his son did. He was on the scene immediately after. We can’t use him.’

‘Oh God, I should have realized. I tracked him down yesterday, before Lily Marsh was killed.’ She blushed, stammered, waited for Vera to let fire the sarcasm. But Vera was feeling kind. She was thinking about Peter Calvert. It was probably a coincidence. It didn’t take a botanist to scatter flowers on a dead body. But if they were looking for someone who liked to play games, it could be seen as a calling card, a signature.

‘Get someone else,’ she said. ‘Not from Newcastle University. Try Northumbria or Sunderland. There must be another botanist somewhere in the north east. And check out what Dr Calvert was doing the night Luke was killed. Just to show we’re tying up all the loose ends.’ She remembered the scene on the veranda she’d walked into the night before. Four men sitting at the table. One woman. About the same age as her, but elegant, made-up. Desired. An interesting group, she thought again. ‘On second thoughts, you can leave Dr Calvert to me.’ It would be an excuse to go back. ‘Can’t trust you lot with the gentry.’

They smiled, not bothered. One less job for them and whoever heard of a university lecturer as a murderer?

She turned back to the group. ‘Who’s been checking out Geoff Armstrong’s alibi?’

‘Me.’ Charlie Robson. Charlie was older than her. She thought he must be up for retirement soon. He didn’t like working for a woman, but he’d had to get on with it.

‘Well?’

‘First I had a word with the guy he does most of his work for. Barry Middleton. Small builder. Does kitchens, bathrooms, loft extensions. He’s known Geoff for years, even before he started passing work his way. He says Geoff always had a temper on him. One of those people who could take offence if you looked at him the wrong way. There were a couple of scraps on site. He lashed out at a foreman when he was working in London. That’s why he turned up back here without a job. But apparently he changed completely when he remarried. Now he’s a real family man, according to Barry. Devoted to Kath and the little girl. He’d even started to build bridges with Julie.’

‘That’s what he said to me.’ But do I believe it? Vera thought. Do I believe people change that easily?

‘I went onto the estate this morning,’ Charlie went on. ‘Geoff and the family were leaving just as I got there. Looked like a trip to the beach. They had towels, a picnic.’

‘Very domestic,’ Vera said.

‘They didn’t see me. I had a word with the neighbours. Everyone said the same. They’re a lovely family. He’s a bit quiet. Doesn’t go to the pub or the club. Stays in to mind the bairn while the wife’s at work. But nobody had a word to say against him.’

‘What about Wednesday night? Did anyone see him leave the house?’

‘No, and one couple is certain they would have done if he’d taken his car out. They were having a barbecue, had invited a few friends round. They’d even asked Geoff. They only live a couple of doors down the street and thought he could keep calling back to check the little girl was OK. He didn’t go in the end, said he didn’t like leaving Rebecca. But they were out in the garden all evening. It’s on the corner and they’d have seen if he left. That’s what they reckon.’

Vera was pleased they could count Geoff out of the investigation. She imagined the three of them on a beach somewhere. Tynemouth, maybe. Kath laid out on a towel catching up on some sleep, Geoff keeping the girl amused, holding her hand as she jumped the waves, building sandcastles, buying ice cream. She must be going soft in her old age. She thought he deserved a second chance.

She realized the team was waiting for her to go on. ‘Let’s leave Geoff Armstrong, then. Unless anything else comes up. I want someone to talk to Luke’s consultant. Find out if Lily Marsh was treated at St George’s too. She probably wouldn’t be an inpatient. Her flatmates would know about that. She might have gone to a clinic, though. We know her dad had a history of mental illness. It’s an outside chance but worth following up. And I’d like you to check out Lily Marsh’s finances. Bank account, credit cards. All that. The way it looks, she was living way beyond her means. Did she have some other income? A rich lover, maybe. And we need to trace the lad she had the crush on when she was at school. His name’s Ben Craven. He could still be living locally.’

She thought there’d been enough talk. They all liked talk. Talk and coffee and buns saved them having to go out there and mix it with real people.

She stood up, made sure she had their attention. ‘The first priority is to make some link between the victims. Something that places them together, a person they have in common.’

They sat, staring up at her.

‘Well, go on, then,’ she said, raising her voice, teacher again. ‘You’re not going to find it in here, are you?’

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