‘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.’