Murder On Account Read online

  “And you say one of our lads was over at the Gerbil earlier today?”

  “Yeah. According to Kenny, it was a young plod.”

  “You have such a way with words, Kat.”

  “Is there any chance you could check it out? If you could trace the car, that would be great.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  “There are CCTV cameras on the road.”

  “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what our guys have done so far.”

  “You’re a superstar, Batman.”

  “Shouldn’t that be a superhero?”

  ***

  Graham was waiting for me in the ward, seated in a wheelchair.

  “Hey, Hopalong, how are you doing?”

  “Is that my new nickname? What about City Boy?”

  “You’ll revert to that when the leg is mended. Did they say how long it will be?”

  “Six to eight weeks they reckon. I wanted to go down to reception, but they wouldn’t let me leave until someone came to collect me.”

  “It’s just as well I didn’t have something better to do then, isn’t it?”

  “Can you grab those?” He pointed to a pair of crutches under the bed.

  Once we were in the lift, he looked at me, grinned and shook his head.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been on a few first dates, but I have to say this one is the most eventful so far.”

  “Who said it was a date?” I said, with mock indignance.

  “Sorry, I—err, I just meant—”

  “Actually, I was just about to ask you back to my place for coffee last night when the car intervened.”

  “Really?” His face lit up.

  “No, I just said that to see your reaction.” I grinned. “Did the police come to see you?”

  “Yes. A young police officer interviewed me this morning.”

  “Probably the same one who went to the Gerbil.”

  “I couldn’t really tell him anything.”

  “You must have got a good look at the car before you pushed me out of its path?”

  “It’s all a bit of a blur. I remember that we were talking, and then the next thing I remember, I was in the ambulance. Did you see who was driving?”

  “No. I barely saw the car. Like I said yesterday, it was most likely joy-riders.”

  “You can put me in a taxi now. I’ll be fine from here.”

  “No chance. I want to see where you live.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can have a laugh at your soft furnishings.”

  I’d always assumed Graham lived in Lewford, but the address he gave the taxi driver was actually in Greenwich.

  “I thought you said you lived in Lewford?”

  “I never said that. You just assumed I did.”

  “How come you’re always hanging around Lewford, then?”

  “It’s only just up the road, and Miles enjoys the walk. Plus, the company’s better.”

  Fortunately, for all concerned, his flat was on the ground floor.

  Much as I would have liked to rip the piss out of his furnishings, I couldn’t. The living room looked like it belonged in a show flat.

  “Welcome to my humble abode.” He was slowly getting used to walking on the crutches.

  “If you think this is humble, I’m never inviting you to my place. Did the furniture come with the flat?”

  “No. I chose it all.”

  “This place is enormous.”

  “If you think this is big, you should have seen the apartment I had in Limehouse.”

  “It must have been posh if you’re calling it an apartment. I thought you said NGO lawyers didn’t get paid well?”

  “Compared to lawyers working in private practice, they don’t.”

  “But compared to the rest of us mere mortals, you’re minted.”

  “Would you like coffee?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll make it. Please tell me your kitchen is a mess, at least.”

  “It is. I didn’t get around to putting the dishes in the dishwasher yesterday.”

  Graham’s idea of a mess and mine were several light years apart. The spacious kitchen was spotless, and equipped with every gadget known to man.

  “Where’s your kettle?” I shouted.

  “There’s a coffee machine to the left of the window.”

  “Of course there is.” I studied it for a few minutes. “Nope, no idea how this thing works.”

  He hobbled into the kitchen. “I have decaf pods if you’d prefer?” He pointed to one of the cupboards.

  “I didn’t even realise you could get coffee in pods. Mine comes in a jar.”

  We settled down in the living room: me on the sofa, Graham in the matching armchair.

  “What will you do about work?” I took a sip of the coffee.

  “I’ll probably take a few days off until I’m comfortable on the crutches. I can work from home anyway.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened. It wasn’t the ideal end to the date.”

  His face lit up. “You just called it a date?”

  “I meant meal.”

  “Yes, but you actually said date.”

  “Slip of the tongue.”

  We chatted for an hour or so, by which time I could tell he was beginning to flag.

  “I’d better get going.” I took the cups through to the kitchen. “Give me a call if you need anything.”

  “I don’t have your number.”

  “Give me your phone.” I added my number to his contacts and handed it back.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “I’ll give you a call on Monday to see how you’re doing.”

  “And to arrange a second date?”

  “We haven’t had a first one yet.”

  Chapter 17

  By the time I got back to Lewford, it was almost five o’clock. After the hectic last couple of days, I planned to spend a quiet night in. But first, I had to get something to eat. So far today, all I’d had was the stale sandwich I’d managed to grab at the hospital, and a few biscuits at Graham’s. I’d offered to stay and make him something to eat, but he was out on his feet or should that be foot? He wanted to get some sleep before he ate anything.

  I had a craving for fish and chips.

  I loved living in London, but one of the biggest disappointments had been the scarcity of chippies. Up north, where I came from, you couldn’t move for them. And the few there were down here weren’t what I’d call a ‘real’ chippy. If they didn’t get their curry, gravy and peas delivered by the barrel, then they weren’t the real deal. And, needless to say, they had to sell pickled eggs. Don’t even get me started on what passes for a fishcake down here.

  Fortunately, though, the real McCoy was to be found less than half a mile from my flat. Martha’s Plaice wasn’t quite up to northern standards (I had to deduct a few points for their fishcakes), but they were as close as you could get down here.

  “Hey, Kat.” Martha was dipping a fish into batter. “Long time no see. I thought you’d defected to the competition.”

  “Like who? You’re the only decent chippy for miles.”

  “Your usual?”

  “Yes, please.” My usual was cod, chips and mushy peas. Haddock at a push.

  “Open or wrapped?”

  “Open, please.”

  Mmm! I’m pretty sure I’d sell my soul for a serving of fish, chips and peas.

  “Giz a chip, Mrs,” some cheeky youngster shouted as I walked along the high street.

  “Buy your own.” I might have given him one, but he’d blown his chances as soon as he made the mistake of calling me Mrs.

  I’d almost eaten up by the time I reached Walt’s house. The For Sale sign now read: Sold. I wasn’t surprised. Properties around here got snapped up as soon as they came onto the market. No doubt someone would convert the house into three or four flats and make a killing.

  I’d just put the empty fish and chip carton in the bin, and w
as looking forward to getting home, and streaming a box set on Netflix when my phone rang.

  “Kat, it’s Christine.” She was the last person I wanted to hear from right then.

  “Hi.”

  “Ralph’s just called to say he’s going to work late again.”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  “You said to call the next time he did it.”

  “Right.” Me and my big mouth.

  “Where are you now? Will you be able to follow him?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I’d better get a move on, though.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Although I was disappointed not to be going home to an evening’s mindless TV, I was only too aware that I needed to bring in some cash. I wasn’t in a position to turn down any more work. It had been painful enough having to drop out of the Premax case.

  Even though I sprinted to the betting shop, I only just made it there in time. Ralph was turning the corner as I arrived, so I had to nip into the same newsagents to avoid being spotted by him.

  “The new edition of Trains and Tracks Monthly came in yesterday.” The man behind the counter was still rocking the string vest look.

  “Right.” I was much more interested in keeping tracks on Ralph.

  “Do you want it?”

  “Err—no, thanks. I’ve given up on the trains.” I made my exit and started down the street after my mark.

  Just as on the previous occasion, he headed for the tube station, so once again, I tucked in at the far end of the same carriage. I was expecting him to get off at Mudchute, and I’d almost committed to exiting the train when I realised that he hadn’t got up from his seat.

  Where was he going this time?

  He left the train at Heron Quays, and from there, sprinted the short distance to Canary Wharf where he took the Jubilee Line. Fifteen minutes later, he changed again, this time at Green Park, onto the Piccadilly line. By now, I was beginning to wonder if he knew he was being followed, and was leading me a merry dance. At South Kensington, he set off on foot at a fast pace. A few minutes later, he reached his destination: The Royal Marsden Hospital.

  I saw him go through the main entrance, but then I’d made the fatal mistake of stopping to catch my breath. In those few seconds, I managed to lose sight of him. I was furious with myself. I’d just spent the best part of an hour following him, and now I had no idea where he was. It would have been pointless to wander around the hospital because he could have been anywhere, and there was very little likelihood of my spotting him. Instead, I took a seat in reception, in the hope that he’d come out the same way as he’d gone in.

  While flicking through a two-year old copy of House and Garden, my phone beeped with a text from Christine, asking if I had any news. I didn’t reply. What would I have told her? That I’d lost him again?

  I’d been there for almost two hours. My backside was numb, and I was pretty sure that I’d blown it, but then Ralph reappeared. He was with a woman who I recognised from the photograph Zero had sent me when he was staking out the flat in the Isle of Dogs; it was Deborah Todman. That kind of made sense. She must have recovered from whatever had been ailing her, and Ralph had come to collect her.

  I still found it hard to understand why he would cheat on Christine with a woman almost thirty years older, but I’d long since given up trying to understand men.

  I needed to position myself somewhere that I’d be able to snap a photo of them together. Once I’d passed the incriminating photo on to Christine, that would be case closed as far as I was concerned. Unfortunately, the reception area was so busy that it was difficult to get a clear snap of them.

  I moved in a little closer until I had the perfect angle. I was just about to take the shot when I saw something that stopped me dead in my tracks. They were both sobbing.

  That completely threw me, and I was still trying to recover myself when—

  “Kat?” Ralph said. “Is that you?”

  Well done, Kat! That was just brilliant. The shock of seeing them in such obvious distress had thrown me off my guard, and now I’d allowed him to see me.

  “Oh? Hi, Ralph.”

  He said something to the woman who then went and took a seat.

  “Are you visiting someone?” He wiped a tear from his eye.

  “Yeah, something like that. Look, I don’t want to keep you. I can see you’re upset.”

  “It’s okay. Can I ask you a favour?”

  “Err, sure.”

  “I know you don’t like me.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “It’s okay. The way I treated Chrissy back then was unforgiveable.”

  “With Fiona, you mean?”

  “Yes.” He bowed his head, and to my surprise, he began to cry again. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Look, Ralph, I think I should tell you what I’m—”

  “She’s dead.” He wiped his eyes again. “Fiona’s dead.”

  “Oh? I—err—”

  “That’s her mother, Deborah, over there. I arrived here twenty minutes too late.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Can I ask you a massive favour, Kat? If you see Chrissy again, please don’t tell her about any of this.”

  “Well, I—err—”

  “There hasn’t been anything going on between me and Fiona, I promise. Not since that time when you caught me. Back then, I realised what a fool I was, and how close I’d come to losing Chrissy, so I ended it. I’ve never looked at another woman since. On my life.”

  “So how come you’re here now?”

  “That’s Fiona’s mum.” He gestured to Deborah. “She contacted me a few weeks ago, to tell me that Fiona was terminally ill. Cancer. She only had a few weeks to live. According to Deborah, Fiona had never met anyone else after we split up. Apparently, she still talked about me from time to time, so Deborah asked if I’d mind paying her a visit.”

  “Did you tell Christine?”

  “No. I was worried about how she might react.”

  “You should have told her. If Christine had known all the facts, she would have understood.”

  “You’re probably right. I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s too late now, though. If you do see Chrissy, please don’t say anything, Kat. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.”

  “Okay. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thanks. I’d better take Deborah home.”

  ***

  I made a call to Christine.

  “Kat? I’ve been trying to get hold of you. What’s happening?”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I’m at home. Why?”

  “I need to come and talk to you.”

  “What’s happened? Why can’t you tell me over the phone?”

  “I need to do this face to face.”

  “Oh God. It’s bad, isn’t it? I knew he was cheating on me. Where is the scumbag?”

  “Listen to me, Christine. It’s not bad, I promise, but I need to talk to you before Ralph gets home.”

  “Okay.” I could hear the tears in her voice.

  “Text me your address, and I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

  The train would have taken too long, so I took a taxi to Deborah’s flat. The fare plus tip cost me just over sixty quid, which I paid out of what remained of the cash that Vi had given me.

  Christine’s house in Purley was a mid-terraced property with a front garden the size of a postage stamp. Christine was watching for me through the front window, and had opened the front door before I got to it.

  “What’s going on, Kat?” Her eyes were red and puffy.

  I spent the next ten minutes telling her everything I knew. I honestly had no idea how she was going to react.

  “She’s died?” Christine grabbed the box of tissues.

  “Yeah. Ralph and her mother were leaving the hospital when I bumped into them.”

  “He should have told me.”

  “He was worried about how yo
u’d react. After all, she was the woman he’d had an affair with.”

  “I would have understood under the circumstances.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’d like to think so, but probably not.” She managed a half-hearted laugh. “What did he say when he saw you? He doesn’t know that you were following him, does he?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m certain. His head was all over the place. He just assumed my being there was a coincidence. He was worried that I might tell you, though.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That I wouldn’t breathe a word of it.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He’s taking Fiona’s mother home to the Isle of Dogs.”

  “What do you think I should do, Kat?”

  “That’s not my call.”

  “I know, but I’d still appreciate your advice.”

  “I suppose that depends on if you still love him or not. And whether or not you want to continue in this relationship.”

  “I still love him. I can’t help myself.”

  “In that case, it seems to me you have two choices. Either you pretend you don’t know about any of this, and carry on as normal. Or you tell him that you know about Fiona, and that you understand why he did what he did.”

  “But that would mean I’d have to tell him that I hired you to follow him. What will he think once he knows that?”

  “He doesn’t have to know that. You can just say I called you out of the blue. Make out I did it out of spite.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair on you.”

  “Why? Because Ralph will think badly of me? I can live with that.”

  “What if he comes back while you’re still here?” She hurried to the window, and looked up and down the street.

  “I think he’ll be a while yet. Fiona’s mother was in a pretty bad way. I’d better get going, anyway.”

  “Thanks, Kat.” She gave me a hug. “I’m sorry I was such a cow to you for so long.”

  “Forget it.”

  “We’ll stay in touch, yeah?”

  “Sure.”

  “What about your bill? You can’t send it to the house in case Ralph sees it.”