The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club, #3)(72)

‘That’s why I moved to Juniper Court in the first place,’ says Pauline, over the sound of her hairdryer now. ‘Loads of the crew live there. Cameras, sound, all sorts. The show even keeps a couple of flats there, you know, freelancers come down for a few months, that’s where they get put up. Mike had a place there years back. It’s like a hall of residence half the time.’

Donna nods. Well, that complicates things. If it’s true. All sorts of people Bethany might have known. All sorts of people she might have been visiting. Donna needs more information.

‘Bethany ever visit?’ Donna asks. Trying to be casual, but over the sound of the hairdryer.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Would Bethany have ever visited Juniper Court?’

‘I’d have thought so,’ says Pauline. ‘People were in and out. Fiona Clemence had a thing with one of the camera ops who lived there. It was open house.’

‘Did she ever visit you there?’ Donna asks.

‘Me? No,’ says Pauline. She switches off her hairdryer. ‘Don’t think she even knew I lived there.’

‘You’d think she’d have bumped into you,’ says Donna. ‘At some point. If she was there a lot?’

‘I’m a bit more private than some of them,’ says Pauline, shrugging.

Donna had plenty to report back to Chris. The good news: Pauline had lived in Juniper Court when Bethany Waites disappeared. The bad news: so had everyone else. Convenient for Pauline. Too convenient?

‘That’s you done, darling,’ says Pauline. ‘Don’t you look a picture?’

Donna looks at herself in the mirror. Just perfect. Pauline is very, very good.





59





He thought he might have to kill the dog, but, in the end, there was no need. From the moment he broke in, the dog seemed very happy to see him. Had even licked his hand while he loaded the gun. He had been fast asleep until the key turned in the lock for the first time. The Viking would love a dog, but they take a lot of looking after. Walking and so on. And sometimes things go wrong with them. What if something went wrong and he didn’t notice? The Viking would never forgive himself. He has heard that cats are easier. Maybe he will get a cat.

The first person through the door is Joyce; he recognizes her from the photograph. Joyce has a shopping bag in her hand. She is swaying slightly, and is whistling a happy tune. She stops whistling when she sees the gun, which makes the Viking feel guilty, but powerful. Mainly guilty, but he couldn’t deny the powerful bit. He supposes that is why weak people like guns so much. Not that he is weak.

The dog bounds to greet her, and Joyce ruffles his coat without taking her eyes off the man with the beard and the gun who has just appeared in her living room.

‘Bless you,’ says Joyce. ‘You must be the Viking?’

The Viking is confused. ‘The Viking?’

‘You kidnapped Elizabeth,’ says Joyce. ‘And Stephen, which was very cowardly. Put your gun down; I’m seventy-seven, what do you think I’m going to do?’

The Viking puts the gun down by his side, but keeps hold of it. It is around seven p.m., and dark outside. He has closed the curtains already. Joyce is less scared than he thought she might be. She even feeds the dog. ‘Alan’, he is called. She offers the Viking a cup of tea, but, wary of being poisoned, he declines. She sits opposite him while Alan eats, his metal bowl scraping noisily on the kitchen tiles.

‘So you’re here to kill Viktor?’ she asks. ‘He’s not in.’

‘I am here to kill Viktor, yes,’ says the Viking. ‘But also to kill you.’

‘Oh,’ says Joyce.

‘They didn’t tell you?’

‘They didn’t,’ confirms Joyce. ‘This seems like an awful lot of fuss. I hope it’s over something very important?’

‘It’s business,’ says the Viking. ‘I told Elizabeth to kill Viktor. She didn’t kill him. I told her I would kill you if she didn’t.’

‘Well, she kept that quiet,’ says Joyce. ‘Have you ever killed anyone before?’

‘Yes,’ says the Viking. His voice doesn’t even waver. He is very impressed with himself.

‘And yet you had to get Elizabeth to kill Viktor for you,’ says Joyce. ‘Have you really ever killed anyone?’

‘No,’ admits the Viking. How could she tell? ‘I have never needed to. But now I need to. And I will.’

‘So you’re going to start with me? That’s in at the deep end, I’d say. A pensioner.’

The Viking shrugs. ‘Maybe I’ll just kill Viktor, then.’

‘I’d sooner you didn’t kill either of us,’ says Joyce. ‘I’ve grown fond of him. Watches too many programmes about trains, but who doesn’t have faults? What’s your disagreement with him? Are you sure you don’t want a cup of tea? We’ll be here some while if we’re waiting for Viktor, and I promise I’m not going to poison you. The last thing I need on my hands is an unconscious Swede.’

The Viking thinks he wouldn’t actually mind a cup of tea. His whole plan doesn’t seem at all right now he’s here, with a gun in his hand, and a tiny old woman asking him polite questions. ‘OK, yes, please, just with milk. I have a dispute with Viktor.’