Nothing but Meat: A dark, heart-stopping British crime thriller Page 5

  She sensed Martin enter the room as she was filling the vase, he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She cringed at his touch. He kissed her neck with reptilian lips and asked if she wanted to go out for dinner.

  ‘Thanks but I’m too tired. I’m sore and bruised…’ she stopped herself mid-sentence, trying to be tactful – not wanting to refer to last night’s violence. ‘I just want a quick bite, a long bath and a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘We can order a takeaway or I can knock up some pasta and salad, what do you think?’

  ‘Pasta sounds good.’

  Simone slept heavily that night and Martin left her alone.

  When she slid out of bed in the morning she was careful not to wake her snoring husband, not because she was being considerate but because she wanted privacy and time to herself.

  Her face was so painful she could hardly touch it as she carefully applied fresh dressings and after she dressed she tied her hair back and idly realised that she had spent more time on her appearance than usual. Even taking into account the fact that the aches and pains that racked her body slowed her down she knew it was her hair and make-up that had taken more time than normal and she recognised the feeling of needing to look good for someone. It had been a while since she had given so much attention to her appearance; not since the early days, before her marriage began to go stale had she felt so feminine and today she felt bizarrely youthful, she felt like a teenager getting ready for a night out and worrying what her date would think of her.

  She sighed at her reflection and a feeling of despair reared its ugly head. She cursed her appearance and thought how typical it was that her face was banged up just when she wanted to look great. She knew had to forget about the split lip and the hideous bandage across her nose and acknowledge that there was nothing she could do until her injuries healed. She would be back to her old self in a few weeks and until then she could only do her best to look attractive. Hell, she thought, right now I’d settle for normal, she smiled at herself in the mirror and consoled herself with the notion that Nathan knew what she looked like without the scabs and bruises.

  Victoria’s school was understandably shocked and devastated by the news of Victoria Redman’s death even to the point where the most cynical and unpleasant pupils knew when to keep their mouths shut. This appalling crime was too close to home no matter how distant the academic relationship.

  Simone and West spoke to her teachers and they couldn’t really offer any more information about her private life than her father could. They did however succeed in acquiring the piece of information that was their main purpose for the visit, the surname and home address of Beth – Victoria’s best friend and confidant.

  Beth Perry lived on a modern housing estate within walking distance of Victoria’s home. Her mother opened the door and led them into the lounge where they waited silently while she went to fetch her daughter. When Beth entered the room they immediately recognised her from the photographs, her fair hair was tied back and her young eyes were sore from crying. She mumbled hello and sat next to her mother with her legs tucked beneath her, scrunched tissue in hand. West quickly explained the purpose of their visit before easing into the preliminaries; ‘How long had you known Victoria?’ he asked.

  ‘Since the first year at school.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw her?’

  ‘At school, Thursday morning, we didn’t have many classes together and I had a free period in the afternoon so I came home to study.’

  ‘You didn’t meet up with her in the evening?’

  ‘Not on a Thursday, she had her volunteer group in the evening.’

  Simone asked, ‘Other than Thursday’s did you meet up with her most evenings?’

  She shrugged. ‘Guess so, it’s like exam time at the moment so we’ve been spending less time together. More time revising y’know? But we always got together at the weekend.’

  Beth’s mother said, ‘They were inseparable.’

  Simone sensed it would be difficult to talk about the closeness of their relationship with Beth’s mother present and when she made eye contact with Beth she could tell the girl wanted to give more information but didn’t know how. Simone was about to ask for a drink when Beth took the lead and said, ‘Mum can you get us something to drink?’

  Her mother sprang into action seemingly pleased to have a job to do. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘How rude of me I should have asked but it just didn’t occur to me. Hot or cold?’

  Beth’s mother scurried into the kitchen and Simone looked at West who took the hint. He stood and said, ‘I’ll give your mother a hand with the drinks.’ Simone knew West would try to delay her as long as he could but it wouldn’t take long for her to prepare four cold drinks.

  ‘Shall we go for a walk in the garden?’ Simone suggested.

  Beth looked relieved and managed a smile. ‘Okay.’

  Outside, they walked slowly and Simone chatted politely about how hot it had been but the girl was no fool and just said, ‘Uh-huh,’ at the right time while she waited for the real questions to come.

  Simone asked, ‘Did Victoria have any other close friends, or anyone else she spent a lot of time with?’

  ‘Not really, just people at school, but she didn’t spend much time with them outside of school.’

  ‘Was she a popular girl?’

  Beth hesitated, thinking it through. ‘Vic was like, neutral,’ she said. ‘She wasn’t unpopular but she wasn’t popular either, she was just, Vic.’ A white butterfly landed on the grass close to them and they watched it as she spoke. ‘Everyone liked her but she didn’t stand out because she just kept herself to herself. She just had her own way with things. She didn’t like, try to try.’ She sighed. ‘I’m not explaining myself very well am I?’

  ‘You’re doing fine. Her father gave us the same impression about her, she seemed like the sort of person who was strong inside and not easily influenced by people around her.’

  ‘Yeah that’s it, she was like…’

  ‘Independent?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And proud of it.’

  ‘Yeah, proud.’

  ‘So, not popular, and not unpopular, can you think if she had any enemies at all? Not just in school, anyone?’

  ‘No, I already thought about that and no one disliked her. No one.’

  ‘What about your other friends did the pair of you just hang out with the same people?’

  ‘Yeah, but Vic was my closest friend.’

  ‘Any boyfriends on the scene?’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘A one woman girl huh?’

  Beth looked at Simone and slowed to a stop. Simone apologised, ‘Sorry that was unnecessary. When I was in Victoria’s room I found some photographs.’ The girl began to blush and looked away. ‘It’s okay Beth,’ Simone continued, ‘I have them with me.’

  ‘Can I have them?’

  ‘I have to keep them for a while but no one else will see them if they don’t need to.’

  ‘We were just having fun.’

  ‘There’s no need to be embarrassed.’

  ‘I’m not, not really, they’re just like, private and well, I, we, didn’t think anyone would ever see them.’

  ‘They helped lead us to you.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Without them it would have taken us longer to come here and we wouldn’t have learnt so much about Victoria in such a short space of time.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Simone knew it was slight exaggeration but Beth looked relieved and less humiliated, she relaxed again. ‘Tell me about this group she went to on Thursday evenings,’ said Simone.

  ‘Vic kind of found God one day and started to go to church and stuff, I think it had a lot to do with her father, he’s a bit of a train wreck and she spent most her time looking after him. I think maybe she thought she could get him to turn his life around, and at the same time make her life a little easier. It also got her o
ut of the house a few times a week. And she was doing something positive, something good. She was…proud of that.’

  ‘Where did she meet?’

  ‘At the community centre in Cambridge, it’s like some kind of soup kitchen or something, it’s a place where the homeless go to pick up a free meal and talk about stuff.’

  ‘Did you ever go?’

  ‘No, Vic never asked me. It was like her thing.’

  ‘There was a rose on her windowsill. Did you give it to her?’

  A moment of confusion crossed Beth’s face. ‘No. I never saw it.’

  ‘It was right there on her windowsill; she hadn’t made any attempt to hide it.’

  ‘I didn’t give it to her.’

  ‘Do you know of any other admirers she might have had?’

  ‘There was someone at the church hall, another volunteer - some man who liked her, maybe he gave it to her on her birthday or something and she kept it. She would have told me though, I’m sure of it; we didn’t have any secrets.’

  ‘Do you know his name?’

  ‘Only that it was Gary something; I don’t know his last name. Vic probably told me but I can’t remember.’

  ‘Was he there every week?’

  ‘I don’t really know anything about him.’ There was an element of jealousy in her voice – it raised an octave as she spoke and Simone found it quite reassuring, she knew Beth didn’t have anything to do with Victoria’s death and her feelings towards her were heartfelt and genuine. Beth had loved Victoria and even if the sexual side of their relationship was just a teenage phase that they would eventually grow out of it didn’t matter because at that precise moment her affections were true and the love she felt was real. Victoria couldn’t have asked for more. ‘If he had given it to her she wouldn’t have thrown it away because she wasn’t the sort of person who’d do that. Oh God do you think he did it? Gary, do you think he’s the one?’

  ‘I didn’t even know he existed until just now.’

  Tears swelled in her eyes and the sun made them sparkle. ‘All I can think of is how scared she must have been.’ Beth began to sob and Simone pulled her close. She buried her head into Simone’s shoulder and Simone shushed her gently. She glanced towards the house half expecting Beth’s mother to come rushing out but she didn’t. Simone wanted to tell Beth that everything would be okay, she wanted to make the promise that they would catch whoever did it, that they wouldn’t stop until Victoria’s killer was in prison but she knew that would be a lie – the words, We’ll do our best, just weren’t good enough.

  6

  The door to the community centre was locked. West looked at his watch. ‘Five o’clock,’ he said and banged on the heavy wooden door with the heel of his hand but the sound fell silent.

  They could see the church steeple poking over the nearby houses. ‘Let’s go over to the church,’ said Simone. ‘See if they are going to open the hall tonight and to see if anyone knows this Gary character.’

  West grunted an affirmative and looked at his watch again as he stepped towards the car.

  There was a jangle of keys and a man’s voice from behind them. ‘Can I help you?’ They turned around as the man approached, he said, ‘Did you want to go in?’

  West introduced them and the man returned the pleasantry. ‘Gary Stevens,’ he said. Simone’s stomach leapt could this be the man they had come to meet, could this be the one they were looking for? Simone turned to face him directly and was ready for a chase if Stevens suddenly took off. Simone wondered if Nathan felt the same revulsion at the sight of him and eagerness to get him into custody. West began to explain why they were there when Stevens interrupted him. ‘Are you here because of Victoria?’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ Clearly West was going to take his time. ‘We want to ask some questions about the volunteer work that goes on here. Am I right in saying there’s a group that gets together and feeds the homeless?’

  ‘That’s right, we call it The Shelter and it’s tomorrow night as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Are you involved in it?’

  ‘I am, I help out before, during and after, I arrange the room, help with the food and help straighten up afterwards.’

  ‘How well did you know Victoria?’

  ‘Not terribly well, I knew her name and we had the occasional polite conversation. That was all really.’ As he spoke he twisted the bundle of keys with both hands.

  West watched as Stevens tightly bunched them repeatedly with his fingers and said, ‘What’s happening here tonight?’

  ‘A local band hires it for rehearsals every week. I’ve just come to open up and to collect their money.’

  ‘Here’s what I’m going to do Mr Stevens,’ said West coolly, ‘I’m going to ask you to accompany us to the station,’ he motioned to the Mondeo, ‘where we can continue this conversation.’

  Stevens’ jaw dropped. ‘What? Are you arresting me?’

  ‘No, just think of it as a formal chat. A polite conversation if you will.’

  Simone reached out and held Stevens upper arm and pulled him gently but forcefully towards the car. ‘Please get into the car Mr Stevens.’

  Stevens tried to shake himself loose. ‘What about the band? I have to open up.’

  Simone was wired, she wanted to get him into the car and back to the station but part of her wanted him to run so she could take him down. ‘I’m not going to ask again,’ she said. ‘If you don’t comply I will arrest you.’

  Stevens glanced down the road as if he was debating whether to flee when he said, ‘Oh Victor, over here.’ He motioned to another man who was heading towards them. West turned to face him ready for trouble and when the man was no more than five feet away West held his hand out and said, ‘That’s enough sir, we are the police, don’t come any closer.’

  Simone barely looked at the man called Victor; she kept her focus firmly on Stevens. She knew West would have Victor covered if there was any trouble but she was ready for anything and moved her free hand subtly towards her baton. The part of her that wanted Stevens to run was still rampant inside her, prowling around her being like a vicious dog that hadn’t been fed. She was primed and ready; if there was going to be trouble it was going to go their way.

  ‘What’s going on Gary?’ asked Victor.

  ‘They want to take me to the station.’

  ‘Did you do anything wrong?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then go,’ he said calmly.

  ‘Will you open up the hall tonight?’

  ‘I came here to talk to the band; they’re too loud, we’ve had complaints. I’ll take care of it.’ He held his hand out. ‘Give me the keys Gary and go answer their questions.’

  Simone met Stevens’ wild eyes; he was scared and confused. ‘Take your friend’s advice,’ she said. Still holding his upper arm tightly, she used her free hand to open the door of the Mondeo. ‘Get in,’ she said. ‘Now.’

  ‘Okay, okay, I will.’ Stevens threw the keys toward Victor and climbed into the backseat of the car. A group of longhaired kids had gathered on the doorstep of the church, they stood by their guitar cases and smoked cigarettes while they watched the show.

  West met Victor’s calm gaze and said, ‘Be on your way.’

  ‘Thanks to you too,’ he said and headed towards the church hall. ‘You lot are too loud,’ he said as he approached the kids. ‘We’ve had complaints.’

  They drove to the station in silence, not wanting to talk to Stevens until the tapes were rolling in the interview room. Simone noticed West look at his watch again and caught his eye as she moved through the traffic. West acknowledged her questioning look and said quietly, ‘Supposed to visit the old man tonight. This better be fucking worth it.’

  Outside, the station was seething with reporters from hundreds of newspapers, television and radio stations. West told Simone to drive past the station without stopping. ‘Do you have a blanket in the car?’ she asked.

  He shook his head and said, ‘Pull o
ver here.’ West jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped and went into the boot. He opened the back door of the car and tossed his suit jacket into Stevens’ lap. ‘Put that over your head,’ he said to Stevens who had a distinctly worried look on his face at the prospect of stepping out of the car in front of the waiting media. They drove around the block and when they pulled up the cameras flashed crazily at the car. Stevens struggled to cover his face with West’s suit jacket and as he stepped out of the car he fumbled and panicked and the jacket slipped from his head. West gripped his arm and pulled him through the throng of reporters while Simone stood close to him and helped him cover his face again. But it was too late, both West and Simone knew that by the evening the television stations would have likely named the man who was taken in for questioning and the paparazzi had their shots for the morning editions.

  The interview room was small, claustrophobic and intimidating. West stared silently at Stevens for a full minute after starting the interview tapes. Stevens sat back in his chair and tried to look calm but his thin, ratty face betrayed him, his mouth was twisted into an unnatural smirk and his eyes were juicy with fear.

  West broke the silence. ‘Earlier on,’ he said, ‘outside the community centre you told us you didn’t really know Victoria. Correct?’

  Stevens shrugged and grunted an affirmative.

  ‘Why did you lie?’

  He looked blank and opened his mouth to defend himself but West cut him off. ‘I think you knew her better than you care to admit,’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t kill her.’

  ‘I didn’t say you did. I just want you to clarify your relationship.’

  ‘We went out once.’

  ‘Did you ask her, or did she ask you?’

  ‘I asked her.’

  ‘Where did you go?’