The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club #3)(21)

‘But they don’t trust you with needles? Don’t blame them. Boy or girl?’

‘Boy,’ says Heather. ‘Mason, of all things.’

‘I’ll bring you a package straight away, blue wool, everything,’ says Connie. ‘And we’ll see how you’ve got on tomorrow.’

‘Thank you,’ says Heather. ‘I find it hard to trust people. It takes time.’

‘Well, you must never trust me, but the one thing we’ve both got is time,’ says Connie. ‘I’ll just keep coming back. I like to get a job done.’

Connie stands to leave. She reaches out a hand, and Heather takes it and shakes it.

‘I will quite look forward to seeing you again, Connie,’ says Heather. ‘I still won’t tell you what you want to know though.’

‘We’ll see about that, gorgeous,’ says Connie, and gives a little goodbye wink.





17





Thursday. The Jigsaw Room.

‘But your lights were off all night,’ says Joyce.

‘Don’t fuss,’ says Elizabeth. She will tell Joyce about the kidnapping once she has worked out her plan to deal with the Viking. In the meantime, she is glad of the distraction of the murder of Bethany Waites.

‘I’m not fussing,’ says Joyce. ‘It’s just unusual. Is Stephen all right?’

‘We had a romantic evening in,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Candlelight in the bathroom, and an early night.’

Joyce doesn’t buy this, but Elizabeth thinks she has been fended off for now. She will have to tell her eventually. To business.

‘So what do you have for us, Mr Waghorn?’

Mike Waghorn and Pauline have joined them in the Jigsaw Room. Pauline is topping up Mike’s glass.

‘Just something I remembered,’ says Mike. ‘Someone was sending Bethany notes. Locker-room stuff, really, probably not important.

‘Bullying.’

‘I can’t stand a bully,’ says Ron.

‘And did you find out who sent them?’ asks Ibrahim.

‘No. Bethany just laughed them off,’ says Mike. ‘She sent me a few messages about them, but we never got to the bottom of it.’

‘Do you still have her messages?’ Elizabeth asks.

‘Of course,’ says Mike. ‘I’ll always keep her messages.’

‘I should think so too,’ says Joyce. ‘Gerry once had a letter in the Radio Times, and I’ve always kept it.’

Mike is scrolling through his phone.

‘It was about Cagney & Lacey,’ says Joyce. ‘Which wasn’t like him at all.’

Mike has found Bethany’s messages. ‘Another note today, skipper. Slipped into my bag. “If you don’t leave, I’ll make you leave.” It was always that sort of thing: “Get out. Everybody hates you.” Playground stuff, but you never know. And it was something I didn’t think to tell the police at the time.’

‘Could it have been Fiona Clemence?’ asks Joyce. ‘I do hope not.’

‘Pauline, any idea?’ asks Elizabeth.

‘Don’t even remember the notes,’ says Pauline.

Joyce puts her hand on Mike’s arm. ‘More wine, Mike?’

‘Yes, please,’ says Mike, and Joyce pours him another glass.

‘You reading the news later, Mikey boy?’ asks Ron.

‘You’ll have to do better than three glasses of wine to stop Mike presenting the news,’ says Pauline. ‘Do your trick, Mike.’

Mike sits up, ramrod straight, and looks Ron in the eye. ‘Meanwhile, military manoeuvres are continuing in Bosnia and Herzegovina, as the Serbian secessionist spokesperson initiated interventions with interested intermediaries.’

Ron raises his glass. ‘The lad can take a drink.’

‘Thank you, Ronald,’ says Mike.

‘I’ve trained him well,’ says Pauline.

‘Well, aren’t we all terrific,’ says Elizabeth. ‘But, if we could get on. Let’s go through exactly what we know.’

The Jigsaw Room has recently been repainted. Or one wall of it at least. They call it a ‘signature wall’, and it is duck-egg blue. It was Joyce’s idea: she had seen somebody do it on television, and had then raised it with the Amenities Committee. There had been objections, both in terms of cost and aesthetic, but Elizabeth could have told them to save their breath. If Joyce wants a signature wall, Joyce will have a signature wall.

The wall, which does actually look rather good, is currently covered in photographs and documents. There are pictures of Bethany Waites, and the wreck of a car at the foot of Shakespeare Cliff. There are grainy CCTV shots. The photos are surrounded by financial documents, and by timelines meticulously constructed, printed out and laminated by Ibrahim. They used to lay this sort of thing out on the jigsaw table itself, but Joyce has recently come across some sticky hooks you can peel on and off the wall without leaving any marks. Elizabeth much prefers it this way. It reminds her of a Serious Incident Room, the type of place where she has spent many happy hours.

‘For reasons known only to herself,’ says Elizabeth, ‘or to her killer, Bethany decides to leave her flat. CCTV in the lobby of her building captures her at ten fifteen p.m., and, minutes later, we see her car pass by the front of the building.’