Liar Page 9

  Amelia managed a weak smirk at that last statement. She doubted he would. But he was right: the theft would come out, as would the glamour modelling and everything else. Once something like this hit the papers there were always those willing to share their memories or grievances, and the story could keep on running. Sadly no one could save Mrs Meadows from humiliation.

  As she came out of Shepherd’s Bush tube station, Amelia saw Kat and rushed to catch up with her. She really needed a diversion or even a shoulder to cry on.

  ‘You look tense,’ Kat said, after she’d greeted her. ‘Had a difficult day at work?’

  ‘The worst,’ Amelia agreed. ‘Have you got time for a drink?’

  Kat looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got a date later but listening to a friend’s woes is more important than making a man wait. Let’s go in the Black Dog – it’s rough but, then, most of the pubs round here are.’

  Once they were sitting down with a double Bacardi and Coke each, Amelia told Kat about the second murder and that Carol had been sacked for theft. Kat looked astounded. ‘You promise you won’t bandy this around?’ Amelia begged her. ‘I shouldn’t really be telling anyone about it.’

  ‘There’s times when we all need someone to confide in,’ Kat said, squeezing her hand in sympathy. ‘I won’t breathe a word to anyone, you have my word on that. But do you know what the police are doing to find this killer? Have they got any new leads?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to them. But my boss seems to think they’re as much in the dark as they were with Lucy Whelan’s death. They do think it was the same man – no sexual interference, her bag taken more to slow down identification rather than as part of a robbery. She wasn’t a sweet girl, though, like Lucy. She was mean to her mum, used men, and generally seems to have been a conniving bitch. But it’s her mum who worries me most, Kat. She had nothing in her life but her daughter. What’s this going to do to her?’

  ‘Maybe her mum made her like that,’ Kat suggested. ‘You do hear that sometimes. Not that I’d know, my mother was so wonderful, kind and loving.’

  That was the first time Kat had ever mentioned family, and Amelia felt bad she’d never thought to ask her about them.

  ‘Was? I’m sorry, Kat, have you lost her?’

  Kat did a little shake of her head to imply that this was something she didn’t want to discuss. ‘Yes, several years ago, but let’s not talk about me. You need to get all this off your chest – you’re clearly deeply concerned.’

  Amelia thought it was so nice that Kat cared about what she’d been through. So many people were too wrapped up in themselves to take on board how others felt and what had happened to them. Even Max didn’t seem very interested in Amelia’s family. Since the day on Hampstead Heath he hadn’t asked her any more questions.

  ‘Well, her mother appeared to be blind to Carol taking advantage of her. It seemed to me that she’d tried hard to be the perfect wife to the detriment of her daughter. Then, of course, her husband left her anyway.’

  ‘Well, Amelia, I don’t want to leave you but I must go now,’ Kat said, knocking back the last of her drink and getting to her feet. ‘You’ve got a big heart, but you can’t take on everyone else’s problems. Go home to your man – Max, isn’t it? – and leave the sleuthing to the police.’

  ‘I’m so glad I ran into you,’ Amelia said, and got up too. ‘You’ve been a tonic, letting me air all this. I feel so much better now. We ought to get together more often, though I suppose with your job you don’t get much free time.’

  ‘No, but I can always find time for a friend,’ Kat said. ‘You just say when.’

  Max didn’t come in till nearly eight. Amelia had dropped off to sleep when she got home: her day had proved exhausting. Max flopped down on the bed beside her and put his arms around her. ‘What have you been doing today?’ he asked.

  ‘A long story,’ she said wearily. ‘I meant to make something to eat, but I was too tired, so I think it’ll have to be fish and chips.’

  ‘I’ll nip out and get it,’ he said, kissing her nose. ‘Then you can tell me this long story.’

  An hour later, the fish and chips eaten, the bottle of wine Max had bought empty and Amelia’s shortened version of the day’s events relayed, Max took her hands in his across the table.

  ‘I think you must back off,’ he said. ‘The killer must have followed Carol, knew where she lived and everything else about her. It was the same with Lucy, so it stands to reason he’ll be aware of you and your involvement, which means you could be in danger too.’

  That idea hadn’t occurred to Amelia, and she looked aghast at Max.

  ‘Surely not. He’s got a thing about blondes – he wouldn’t want a girl with dark brown hair. I won’t count for anything. But it’s nice of you to be concerned.’ She patted his cheek affectionately.

  ‘You do count for something. He’ll have worked out by now that you’ve been trying to find out who he is. He might think you’re getting close. Back off now, Mimi, let the police handle the investigation.’

  ‘Now you’re scaring me.’

  ‘Better to scare you than let you be complacent. People who kill don’t follow rules or set patterns.’

  Amelia sighed. She guessed he was right, but she wanted to delve into all this and find out more. ‘Let’s just go to the Beachcomber Club tomorrow night and get an idea of Lucy’s working life. Then no more.’

  Max frowned. ‘But that won’t be it, will it? You’ll be back in Chelsea asking questions. Carol sounds like a horrible girl, and the people she hung around with are probably horrible too. I wish you wouldn’t.’

  ‘Just the Beachcomber, please! I’ve never been to a ritzy nightclub, and as the manager is likely to give us a free drink or two, shouldn’t we grab the opportunity with both hands?’

  ‘Okay, but please back off then, Mimi?’

  She nodded. That wasn’t the same as promising.

  The Beachcomber club under the Mayfair Hotel was beyond belief to both Amelia and Max. Designed to resemble a tropical island, small streams meandered through the club, with rustic-looking bridges that led to tables under straw umbrellas. The waiter pointed out that in the pools there were live baby crocodiles, and real parrots flew among the abundant tropical foliage or perched in cages. A film playing on a screen of waving palm trees, crystal blue sea and white sand added to the illusion that they were far away from London. The music was South Sea Island, too, and the members of the four-piece band were not, perhaps, actually Hawaiian but they looked the part.

  They had no sooner sat down than a waitress dressed in a grass skirt, flower garland in her hair, and another covering her bikini top, came to their table. ‘Compliments of the manager,’ she said, with a broad smile, putting down a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket. ‘Have a lovely evening.’

  She was gone before Amelia could ask her anything about Lucy, but it was so thrilling to be in such a fabulous nightclub all dressed up, with free champagne, and Max at her side looking very handsome, that Lucy’s death was eclipsed.

  The sky in the film darkened and it began to rain. The palm trees bent over in the hurricane-like wind, and forked lightning lit up the dark sky. But slowly the rain and wind slowed, the sky gradually grew light again and the sun came back.

  ‘It’s miraculous,’ Max murmured. ‘What a place!’ He took Amelia’s hand and kissed it. ‘You look beautiful tonight. Maybe we should make a habit of going to places like this.’

  ‘I don’t think we could afford it,’ she said, loving that he was being so attentive. ‘I’ve looked at the menu and the drink prices are astronomical.’

  ‘I’ve got a few plans up my sleeve that could bring in some big money,’ he said, fixing her with his lovely green eyes and still holding her hand. ‘I can’t tell you about it yet, as it might not come off, but I think we’re going places, darling.’

  Amelia felt a glorious fizz of excitement welling up inside her. When hula girls came onstage and danced,
Amelia felt she actually was in the South Seas, so much so that she half expected a coconut to fall at her feet. She wondered which of the four dancers had replaced Lucy. And which of the girls had been her closest friend.

  ‘Hello, Amelia.’ A voice at her elbow startled her and, to her surprise, she saw it belonged to Frances. She’d looked for her earlier but assumed she wasn’t working when she couldn’t spot her.

  ‘What an amazing club this is!’ Amelia exclaimed, then introduced her to Max.

  ‘So you can see it’s all above board here,’ Frances said, perching on a spare seat beside them. She was wearing the uniform of grass skirt and flower garlands and looked stunning. ‘From what I’ve read in the papers today, though, the new victim sounds like a real bitch.’

  ‘So it seems,’ Amelia said, reluctant to speak ill of the dead. ‘A quite different kind of girl from Lucy, which makes it even harder to imagine what they had in common. Is there anyone here I should speak to? Someone who knew more about Lucy?’

  Frances shook her head. ‘We’re all quite close, but Lucy spent more time with me than anyone else. Besides, it’s a Saturday night, the club is filling up and no one has the time to chat. I must go too. But you’ve got my phone number – ring me if you want to.’

  She disappeared, and as Amelia looked around the club, she could see all the tables were taken now. There were mink and fox stoles over evening dresses, sparkling diamonds at throats and on ears. This wasn’t a place where she and Max could afford to spend an evening.

  ‘I think we should go when we’ve finished the bottle,’ she whispered to him. ‘We’re out of our league.’

  He grinned. ‘I was thinking the same, but it was good practice for when my ship comes in. I’d like to see you with a diamond necklace and a fur stole.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad we came,’ Max said, as they walked up the road hand in hand towards Park Lane. ‘I didn’t expect it to be as classy as that.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Amelia agreed. ‘I wonder if the killer used to go in there to watch her dance. Was it just because he wanted to get close to a girl he fancied? But if that was the case, it’s strange that he didn’t try to rape her.’

  ‘I’d say it was all about rage, not lust,’ Max said. ‘He may have tried to talk to Lucy and Carol, but they ignored him, which fired him up.’

  ‘But if he wanted to talk to them why was he armed with a lead pipe and a knife?’

  Max put his arm around her tightly. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think about murdering people. You said you were going to let it go,’ he said, ‘so let’s find something else to talk about.’

  As they walked out of the tube at Shepherd’s Bush, Kat suddenly appeared beside them. She looked none too steady on her feet, and when Amelia said hello, for a moment she didn’t appear to recognize her.

  ‘Oh, of course, it’s Amelia, my neighbour and fellow launderette chum,’ she said, slurring her words. She was wearing her usual black maxi coat, with a mini-skirt beneath it, and as she walked there was a flash of her long legs. On most girls this type of outfit looked good, but for some reason it didn’t flatter her.

  Amelia introduced Max. ‘We’ve been up west for a change. Where have you been tonight?’

  ‘A pub in Portobello Road,’ she said, as they began walking together. ‘I met a couple of colleagues from work. They were going on to a club, but it wasn’t really my thing, so I came home.’

  ‘Any more work trips lined up?’ Amelia asked, and explained to Max that Kat was a buyer for Harrods’ bathroom department.

  ‘Nothing on the immediate horizon,’ she said. ‘To tell the truth, I’m a bit bored with Harrods right now. I’m thinking of moving on. Too many posh housewives up from the country, and senior management who talk down to me as if I’m half-witted. Not like you, Miss Hot Shot Reporter. I read your latest on the new victim of the Creeper. You really didn’t like her!’

  ‘Kat, I didn’t know either of them. I could only write what I was told.’

  ‘But you’ve got such a good instinct about people and, anyway, you told me the other day what a bitch she was.’

  ‘I don’t think I actually said that,’ Amelia corrected her. She wished she hadn’t told Kat quite so much. To her relief, Max butted in, asking Kat a question about Harrods. She seemed as reluctant to answer as Amelia was to discuss her journalism. Fortunately Shepherd’s Bush was very busy, it being a Saturday night, and what with dodging the drunks, and avoiding falling into trenches the Water Board had dug nearly the entire length of Goldhawk Road, conversation wasn’t necessary.

  ‘I heard the other morning the owner of the Greek fruit and veg shop found a drunken Irishman asleep in the trench in front of his shop. He wasn’t hurt – he didn’t even remember falling in,’ Max said, with a chuckle. ‘The Water Board should put up better barriers. Someone could seriously injure themselves.’

  ‘Good place to leave a body,’ Kat said, and laughed. When she saw Amelia wasn’t amused, she turned to her. ‘Cheer up! No one could drop a body off along here – it’s too busy, day and night.’

  ‘Mind how you go now,’ Max said to Kat, as they reached their turning.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said and, staggering a little, continued along the road towards her own home.

  ‘For one horrible moment I thought you were going to ask her in,’ Amelia said, as they went into her house and up the stairs to her room. ‘I thought she was a bit weird tonight, or was it just that she was drunk?’

  ‘I think she wanted me to walk her home,’ Max said. ‘Her intention might have been to drag me into her lair. She was giving me the glad eye.’

  Amelia looked sharply at him. ‘You don’t fancy her, do you?’

  Max sniggered. ‘Not likely. She’s too tall and strong for me. I bet she’d get a man in a half-nelson as soon as look at him.’

  Max had arranged to meet one of his rock-climbing friends on Sunday lunchtime, something that had been planned weeks before.

  ‘We’d discussed going to the Himalayas to climb next spring,’ he said, as he buttoned up his shirt that morning. ‘But I’m not so keen now.’

  ‘Why?’

  Max shrugged. ‘Because I’d have to train hard, and I suppose I don’t want to be away from you.’

  ‘That’s pathetic,’ she said, but was secretly touched he felt that way. ‘I wouldn’t mind you going.’

  Max put his arms around her. ‘I don’t think you realize that when a chap falls in love, he doesn’t want to leave his lady even for a day,’ he said.

  Amelia giggled. ‘That’s silly! But I have to admit a day without you around is too long.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ she said. She had a sudden pang in her heart that she couldn’t live without him, and she had to tell him. ‘I love you, Max, for ever and ever.’

  He looked as if he was welling up. ‘I’d begun to think love was for other guys and not me,’ he said. ‘That first day when we met by Lucy’s body and I put my arms round you, I felt something right then, but it seemed so weird and inappropriate I would never have admitted it.’

  Amelia wasn’t good at coping with raw emotion. ‘I would’ve thought it weird,’ she said. ‘I’d probably have run away screaming.’

  Max gave her a smile that could have lit up the room. ‘I don’t want to go out now. But I must. What are you going to do?’

  ‘Possibly nothing, maybe read, go for a little walk. But you have fun with your friends. I’ll see you later.’

  Max had been gone about half an hour when Amelia thought of visiting Miss Dawes, the elderly neighbour of Mrs Meadows. Jack had added quite a bit to her piece on Carol and it must have upset her mother. She thought if she saw Miss Dawes she could pass on that she hadn’t been the one to dish the real dirt, and also find out if Mrs Meadows was coping.

  The sky was black and threatening, and it was also very cold. Amelia noticed that most of the trees in Ravenscourt Park had lost their leaves. There was still a police cordon around t
he area where Carol’s body had been found, but no police any longer.

  Miss Dawes was slow to answer her front door and, assuming she was afraid of journalists, Amelia called through the letterbox to her.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you,’ she said, when the older woman finally opened the door. ‘I just felt I had to talk to you and explain that none of that nastiness in the newspapers had anything to do with me.’

  ‘Come in, my dear,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have blamed you if it had, but the police told me that they’d made a statement to the press.’

  As Amelia followed Miss Dawes in, she noticed she was walking very slowly, and her voice seemed weak and hesitant.

  Once they were in the sitting room, Miss Dawes sat down, and it was only then that Amelia saw how pale and shaky she was. ‘You don’t look too good,’ Amelia said. ‘Can I make you some tea, or get you anything?’

  ‘No, my dear … It’s just the shock. You see, Mrs Meadows took her own life this morning. She rang 999 to say she’d taken an overdose, but by the time they got to her, she was dead. I went along there when I saw the ambulance and they were just bringing her out.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, how terrible!’ Amelia gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

  ‘Yes, it is. I did my best to comfort her when you asked me to go along there, but she was something of a lost soul. Carol was all she had, and that girl wasn’t kind to her mother.’

  ‘I feel responsible,’ Amelia said, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I may have made things worse.’

  ‘You certainly didn’t, and you mustn’t feel responsible. You were the one person who was kind and supportive. That poor woman was reaping what she’d sown. Carol was always trouble – she had been since her early teens, cruel to her mother, demanding, a little hussy. A weak mum who never says no is a recipe for disaster. Do you know that when Mrs Meadows found money missing from her purse she refused to consider that the thief might have been her own daughter? Once she even suggested that the woman from next door had come in the back way when she was upstairs! How blinkered can a mother be?’