‘There were reports of a fight on the beach which involved her and your current girlfriend, Chantelle Mason.’
‘Chantelle was kicking off because I gave Marika a ride on my jet ski.’ Jordan shrugged. ‘When I explained she soon calmed down.’
‘Several people have reported they heard her threaten Marika.’
‘Heat of the moment stuff.’ Another shrug. ‘You know what women are like.’
‘What was the relationship between Marika and your cousin, Luke?’
‘I have no idea. I never saw them together. There must have been something going on though, mustn’t there?’ He gave Phillips a nasty smirk. ‘Otherwise why would she have laid into him like that?’
‘Like what, Jordan?’
‘Well, you know …’ His face reddened and he looked flustered. ‘She scratched his face, didn’t she? Lover’s tiff, perhaps? After all, he was seeing Cat Trevelyan at the same time. Now, he’d have been in big trouble if she’d found out.’
Despite his dislike of Jordan Hunter, Phillips knew his words held some credence. And damn it all, he knew he couldn’t pin this one on Jordan. At least a dozen people had reported seeing him dancing with his girlfriend around the time the murder had been committed. So what about his other three friends? He dismissed the thought immediately. He’d already interviewed them and he didn’t think any of them capable of swatting a fly, much less bludgeoning someone to death. A load of wet pansies, he thought, remembering how scared they had all looked when faced with him and DS Cousins sitting across the table from them.
No, it looked very much as if Luke Carrack was the only one they had anything on at the moment. He had actually admitted being with the girl down on the beach where her body was found. Said they’d had a heated argument before she’d attacked him and left those scratches on his face.
Rumour around the village said he was a good sort, one who was always ready to help people out, and also incredibly honest. But he wouldn’t be the first upstanding citizen to have crossed the line after experiencing excessive provocation. He waited until Cousins had finished his notes on the last question before he levelled another look at Jordan.
‘Well, I think that’s it for the time being, Mr Hunter. Thank you for coming in,’ he said, as Cousins closed his pad and capped his pen. ‘We’re currently continuing our investigations. Should we need to call you again we’ll be in touch. Oh, and before you leave we’d very much appreciate a DNA sample.’
‘Sure, no problem.’ Jordan nodded insolently. Pushing back the chair he got to his feet and searched for his car keys.
‘You’re wasting your time with all of us, you know,’ he said smugly, pausing to look back at them as he reached the door. ‘Cousin Luke, he’s the one you should be talking to. It’s the quiet ones who have the most to hide, you know.’ He tapped his nose and winked, then left, the door closing behind him with a sharp click.
‘No love lost there then.’ Cousins grinned at his boss.
‘No.’ Phillips shook his head. ‘None at all, but he’s right. At the moment, everything we have points to Luke Carrack being the murderer, doesn’t it?’
Cat had enjoyed her morning, getting a preview of Jodie’s winter collection and being asked for her opinion over a new line of scarves she was planning to introduce. The girl was going places. Cat knew it was only a matter of time before some big High Street name snapped her up to run an in house boutique in all their stores.
Just before midday, they set off for The Smugglers looking forward to lunch out on the front terrace overlooking the harbour. The sun had broken through the morning mist, there was a slight breeze and Cat could already taste the fresh prawn salad she planned to order. Unfortunately, on arrival, they discovered the chef was off sick and crisps were the only food on offer. Jodie’s immediate reaction was to suggest The Copper Kettle. Fresh prawn salad wasn’t on the menu there, but Nessa Sharpe produced a mean lasagne.
Jodie led the way as they walked through the open door. Nearly all the tables were occupied, no doubt as a result of the problems at The Smugglers. And then she saw them. Aunt Em’s partners in crime clustered around a table near the counter. Shebraced herself as Rosalind caught sight of them and her voice went up several octaves.
‘Well, look who it isn’t,’ she said, as she turned to the other two, a knowing look on her fleshy face. ‘If anyone can confirm it, she will.’ Cat prepared herself for trouble. No doubt they were after information about the murder enquiry. Questions that there was no way she was about to grace with an answer.
Ignoring them, Jodie nodded towards the table in the corner on the far side of the restaurant, well away from the group.
‘Pay no attention to them,’ she hissed as they settled themselves down. ‘Looks as though they’ve nearly finished anyway. They’ll be gone soon.’
Nessa appeared from the back of the restaurant carrying two plates of sandwiches. Cat noticed she hesitated for a moment when she saw them, frowned, and then readjusting her hold on both plates crossed the room and placed them in front of a middle-aged couple a few tables away. After sorting out cutlery and serviettes for them, she came straight to Cat and Jodie’s table. Instead of delving into the front pocket of her tabard for her pad as she usually did, she leaned forward as if she was about to share something confidential. But before she could utter a word, Rosalind’s voice boomed out.
‘That’s right, Nessa. Go on, ask her if she knows.’
‘What’s she talking about?’ Cat sucked in an angry breath as she glared at Jodie. ‘More rubbish, no doubt. A pity she—’ She stopped mid-sentence as she saw the expression on Nessa’s face. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s Luke.’ Nessa’s voice was almost a whisper. ‘There’s a rumour going around he’s been arrested.’
‘What?’
‘Well, looks as if even she didn’t know,’ Rosalind crowed gleefully. ‘Yes, dear, Luke Carrack has been arrested for the murder of that poor little waitress. Don’t think he’s going to bearound for a while, do you? Not surprising though, is it? I mean, you know what they say,what’s bred in the bone will come out in the flesh. His mother was nothing but a trollop and as for that greasy mechanic of a father of his … Small wonder he’s turned out the way he has.’
Cat took a deep breath. Although most of the diners appeared to be ignoring Rosalind’s tirade, it did not lessen the fact it was becoming very public and extremely embarrassing.
‘I think we’d better go,’ she said, and with a nod to Jodie she slid her chair back, preparing to get to her feet.
