“It wasn’t me. My mother did most of the decorating in the house, ages ago.”
“Well, I guess it does all look a little dated …”
“Dated!”
“Yes, Tom, dated. Very eighties—or is it even seventies? I mean, just look at the wallpaper and all this furniture. Dark wood, sturdy and very ancient.”
“It suits me. Moments ago you said you liked it. You’ve become a very hard woman to please, Lydia Holden. Time away has done you no good at all.”
“I never saw your place the last time, did I? A girl doesn’t like to be rude, but perhaps you could do with a makeover? I could help.”
“Perhaps—but not yet. We’ve both got too much on.”
“Case giving you trouble?”
“Yep, and a number of other things too. You for instance.” He turned so that he was looking at her full in the face. “I want you to leave the Fallon thing alone. It’s good advice, and for your own safety you should heed it.”
“That is the problem, Tom. I find that people are always giving me advice, mostly what suits them. So I don’t take too much notice. I’m too single-minded, I thought you realised that.”
“Leave Fallon alone, Lydia. He’s a ruthless bastard and he’s going to get what he deserves very soon. I don’t want you being any part of it.”
“So you do know something! Go on, tell me. I won’t write anything—well not yet—but one way or another I intend to find out what I need.”
“Not from me you won’t. This is no joke, Lydia. Fallon’s a killer.
Get in his way and he’ll think nothing of getting rid of you.”
“It’s no use going on at me, Tom. We’re going around in circles.
It’s just so much white noise in my head. All I’m working on is a human interest story, nothing heavy.”
“Nothing to do with Ray Fallon can possibly be described as
‘human interest.’”
“You’re not listening, are you? I need this. I need something big to kick start this new career of mine. After the Handy Man case and what I earned out of the story, I had a sort of epiphany—I realised where the big money is. And more than that, I discovered that I’ve a real talent, Tom. I also have a shrewd idea how much the editors of the bigger papers will pay for an exclusive on Fallon.”
He wasn’t going to win this one. He could only hope that the forensic boys would get the evidence they needed to drag Fallon in and lock him up before Lydia did something stupid.
“Isn’t all this just wasting time, Detective? I’m lying here, naked in your bed, and all you can do is talk work. Not very flattering, Tom Calladine. I want you to make love to me, not talk me to sleep.”
No answer to that. He flicked the switch on the bedside lamp and took her in his arms.
Chapter 20
Day Seven
Calladine left Lydia sleeping. He’d phone her from work and arrange something for later. Spending the night with her had done him the world of good. He was revitalised—the blood was coursing around his veins and he was raring to go. He made himself a couple of sandwiches for lunch and grabbed the envelope from his mother—a quick goodbye to Lydia, and he was gone.
Imogen called to him as he came in, “We’ve had an odd one this morning, sir. Jane Rigby rang—she has our office number from when Cassie was missing. She says her husband didn’t go home last night. What do you make of that?”
Calladine recalled the rather odd couple, and the way they behaved towards each other. Perhaps not getting Cassie back had been the final straw, and he’d left her.
“File the paperwork and pass it on to uniform. They can keep their eyes peeled. Circulate details of his car.”
He nodded to Ruth to follow him into his office.
“I’ve got the information from Devon. Six of them haven’t returned to their homes in the States, so we need to do some digging. Is Alice here yet?”
“She’s gone out somewhere with Rocco. They’ve been visiting the local estate agents.”
“When she returns get her to look at this.” He passed her the list.
“And you? What are your plans?”
“I need to lean on Julian for more information—the soil sample and the CCTV from the pub, for starters.”
He put his mother’s envelope on his desk.
“Something I should know about?”
“Nothing to do with the case—it’s personal.”
Ruth scrutinised the list of names. “There are six names here. I thought we were looking for three, sir.” She shuddered. “Aren’t you going to open that?”
“I’m trying to pluck up the courage. I keep putting it off; it’s something of a mystery. It’s from my mother, a letter from beyond the grave. She didn’t want me to have this until after she…well, until she was gone. So she left it with Monika. I went round last night and she gave it to me.”
“That’s good—you went to talk, so I presume things are better.
I’m glad you took my advice. Did you get anywhere? Are you and Monika back on track? Is that why you look tons better today?”
She wasn’t going to like this. No doubt she’d think he was a right idiot.
“Er, no—not really…Well, no not at all. Me and Monika are definitely over for good, I’m afraid.” His face was a picture of guilt.
“I don’t understand. What went wrong? Why didn’t you make her listen? You obviously didn’t do the right sort of grovelling.”
“No, that’s not it. I changed my mind about the whole thing. I actually went to the care home for an entirely different reason.”
“So what happened? And don’t spin me a tale either, Tom, because I know you.”
What was the use? She was going to find out sooner or later.
“Lydia’s back. She turned up on my doorstep yesterday, and—I just can’t resist her.”
“The blonde bimbo? Tom! Where’s your self-control?”
“Where she’s concerned, in my boots.”
“So, why’s she back now? What does she want?”
“I’d like to say because she can’t live without me—but that’s not it. She’s chasing my bloody cousin. He’s going to be the subject of some scoop she’s planning to write. Investigative journalism, she calls it, and I’m a soft target for the information she needs, apparently.”
“So she bats her lashes and you go to mush—is that about right?”
Calladine nodded. “I’m not proud of it, but I’m a push-over where that woman is concerned. She’s a weakness I can’t control.
Monika paled to insignificance the instant I saw Lydia.”
“You’re a disgrace! Lydia Holden’s bad news. Your future is with Monika and you know it. You’re not stupid. That blonde will dump you the minute she gets what she wants. You won’t know what hit you, it’ll happen so fast. Remember last time? She didn’t hang around then, did she?”
“I know all that, but having it stuffed down my throat doesn’t help. I like Lydia—really like her, so get off my back.”
Ruth knew she’d have to rein it in. “Okay, but don’t say you weren’t warned, when it all comes crashing down around your ears
—and it will. Anyway, you should open the envelope. That letter must contain something very important. Your mother left you that for a good reason.”
“The truth is it’s scaring the hell out of me. Why would she do this? Why couldn’t she simply tell me whatever it is, when she was alive?”
“I’ve no idea, Tom, so you should read it and then you can stop fretting.”
He picked it up and looked at the delicate handwriting. His mother’s hand. He’d not really felt the loss before, but now he felt it keenly. His stomach knotted and there was a lump in his throat.
She was gone and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
My dearest Tom,
If you’re reading this then I’m no longer with you. I know how upset you’ll be but please try to temper that with the memories you have of all the lovely times we spent together. I want you to be happy, son, and I don’t want you to mourn my passing. Do things as you think fit with regards to the funeral but put me in with your dad.