Chapter Thirty-Six
Cherie caught her breath as she slammed the door. Christian pushed past her and went to the kitchen.
‘I just went for a run.’ She followed him through and sat at the kitchen table.
‘You never go for a run.’ He stared out at the drive.
‘I needed to clear my head.’ The stitch in her side told her how out of shape she was. She had strength but speed was her downfall. She hadn’t entered a gym for years and she’d never joined Christian when he went on one of his long treks, normally when they were on holiday. ‘What time are we picking the kids up?’
‘We’re not. I said they could stay the week. My mum said she’d take them to school and they were happy with that. They can sense we’re having problems and I don’t want them upset.’ He placed his palm on the worktop and stared at his wedding ring.
‘I want the children back here. How dare you ship them off for the week without asking me?’ She kicked the table leg and winced as her big toe cracked.
‘How dare I? It’s not me that’s been caught with booze after you promised you’d never touch the stuff again. It’s not me acting all weird and secretive and losing my job. You need to sort yourself out or you’ll lose me and the kids.’
‘I…’ She closed her mouth. Say the wrong thing now and all hell will break loose. The last thing she had the energy for was a full-on argument and this was fast becoming one. ‘You’re right, about the kids. We need a bit of space to sort things out.’
‘You. You need a bit of space. I’m alright. I’m fine and present and calm, and I’ve been trying my hardest to understand but you shut me out. I feel like you’re playing me sometimes, manipulating me, like I’m nothing more than a game to you and I don’t like that.’
She swallowed and played with the ends of her ponytail. ‘I’ve been selfish, for that I’m sorry.’ Gazing up at him, she hoped that he’d look at her like he used to, but all she saw was pity and anger in his face.
‘Are you? You always say what I want to hear. I want you to be sorry. I want change, if not for me, for our children. They need a mother who’s present, not one who’s in a drunken daze, dribbling and waffling on about rubbish while she lies around stinking of sweat and puke. It scares them, did you know that? When you were drunk every day, it was me who lay with them while they cried. You won’t remember – you were in a drunken stupor through it all.’
A tear welled up in her eye. ‘You’re right. I’ve been a bad wife, a bad mother and a bad friend. I should call Marcus again, see how he’s getting on.’
‘Yes, you should. They’re your friends and that’s what a friend would do.’ He slapped the worktop with the tea towel and threw it on the draining board before stomping out and slamming the back door. She listened as the back gate bounced on its hinges. He’d gone out and she knew he wouldn’t be back for a while.
She grabbed her phone and saw the seven missed calls from Marcus and called back.
He answered on the first ring. ‘What took you so long? I haven’t heard from Penny for another night. Something’s badly wrong. What do I do?’
She stood and stared out of the window, watching a car pass by, then a woman walking her dog on the other side of the road. ‘How would I know? She’s done this before after an argument. Maybe you should just back off and give her a bit of time to cool down.’
‘With what happened to Alex! You’re telling me to sit on this? Normally she’d have called me by now after one of her walk outs.’
‘Look, I don’t know what you’re meant to do. Do whatever. All I’m saying is it isn’t the first time she’s left you for a few days after an argument. She’s probably pitched up at a Holiday Inn in a huff and she’s making you sweat it out. That’s the most likely scenario. Call the police if you want, tell them everything. Tell them whatever. I’m fast losing the will to live.’
Silence filled the room and Marcus didn’t reply. He ended the call. She slammed her phone on the worktop and placed her freezing cold fingers over her hot throbbing head. With all that went on last night, she needed a lie down, maybe then she’d have the energy to deal with the mess she’d caused but it was all getting too much. She ran the tap and began washing the grime off her trembling hands, watching the brown water turn clear. She’d gone back to a special place and sat there, hoping that the ghosts of the past would finally stop coming, but they didn’t. They were just getting started. She craved a drink, needed one. Blotting out the memories was all she wanted to do.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
‘Right, we’ve been through our findings at the squat and I’ve uploaded the notes from our talk with Maurice Dullard onto the system.’ Gina drew a line from the photo marked up ‘squat’ to the edge of the board in green pen. ‘Who was at the house talking with Alexander Swinton, and did they have anything to do with his murder? If not, did they know anything about the woman who our nuisance teen, Logan Jones, heard talking to him? Also, do we still have anyone watching the house in case this person comes back?’
PC Smith nodded. ‘We have someone parked just on the edge of the street, keeping an eye on it. As soon as anyone enters the building, we’ll get word.’
‘Good.’ Gina checked her notes. ‘Maurice Dullard, Alexander’s drug counsellor, mentioned that Alex thought he was being followed by a woman. Along with the report by his wife, Nicola Swinton, that she saw someone she thought to be a woman following him last Monday evening, I feel that this mystery woman is the key to solving the case. Just as a matter of following up on everything, has anyone contacted Spencer Burrows, Logan Jones’s victim? It is possible that he saw something too.’
O’Connor scratched his ear and leaned forward. ‘Yes, he confirmed that he and Logan are best buddies again and that they always fight. He wasn’t able to tell us anything about Alexander Swinton. He says he wasn’t with Logan near the squat so he had nothing to add.’
‘Okay, great work. Make sure you follow up on the gang of kids. Maybe one of the others saw something. Any updates on coffin makers and coffin suppliers in the area?’ Gina glanced across the table at Wyre.
Wyre twisted her pen in her fingertips and popped it on the table. ‘Nothing that will further the case. No missing or stolen coffins, no orders that don’t tie up with deaths that have been registered. Nothing on the engraving of the wolf. I feel as though I’ve reached a dead end with this one.’
Gina placed both hands on the head of the table and peered across at Wyre. ‘Widen the net, contact those even further out. This coffin had to come from somewhere and we need to find out where. O’Connor, with regards to Nicola Swinton, will you look a bit deeper into her life?’
He nodded. ‘Of course, guv.’
‘I believe Logan was telling the truth about a woman being at the squat and I can’t rule her out as being the woman who followed him there. We can’t take her word for it that she just drove past, saw him then carried on driving. Maurice Dullard mentioned that Alex said he’d been to Mrs Swinton’s house. He may not have knocked at the door but that doesn’t mean Mrs Swinton didn’t see him. She may have known he was there and, from that, she’d have seen him as a threat. Would she go as far as burying him alive to get rid of him for good? It’s a rather elaborate way of killing someone.’
