Cut You Dead (Dr. Samantha Willerby Mystery #4) - A J Waines Page 0,29

was dimly lit and I almost tripped headlong over the rug laid just inside the door. ‘I’ve had a very productive day and I’m going to tell you all about it. What are you drinking?’

‘Thank goodness someone has some energy,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I need a pint of IPA, whatever type they’ve got.’

I nudged him towards the lounge and stood at the bar to get the drinks, adding a bag of nuts in case he hadn’t eaten.

The place was hectic, but in a high-spirited rather than volatile way and we were squashed together at the end of a table near the doors to the kitchen. Wafts of fatty chips and a rich meaty aroma smothered us every time a bell sounded. It reminded me I hadn’t, in fact, had anything to eat myself.

It was like being in a Wild West movie; the saloon doors beside us swishing back and forth whenever a staff member shot through. Each waiter carried more crockery than seemed feasible, like they were part of a circus trick, except the plates were piled high with steaming cabbage, pie and mash, rather than spinning.

I turned to Terry as he took a long first sip and I launched straight in, keeping my voice low. ‘Okay, I know you’re not going to like this, but I think the police should look into Hazel Hart’s death more closely.’

He made a low grumbling sound.

I went on. ‘I’ve found two other cases where attractive women with very long hair had radical haircuts before their deaths. Just like Hazel.’

He hunched forward, cradling his glass. ‘Wait up, can we go a bit slower, please.’

I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. A group of three men at the far side were waving their arms at a TV screen, discussing VAR, the controversial video referee system, and the couple nearest to us seemed to be embroiled in an argument. I dropped my hands into my lap and took a deep breath. ‘Hazel Hart had waist-length hair. It was stunning – have you seen the photographs?’

He nodded, taking a handful of peanuts from the packet.

‘According to the pathologist, her hair was cut much shorter three to seven days before she died.’

‘According to the pathologist?’ he queried, his mouth crammed with nuts.

I took my eyes away from his. ‘That’s right, we had a quick chat.’

‘Did you now?’ He narrowed his eyes, his tone almost scathing.

I ploughed on. ‘Anyway, I found two other unsolved murder cases from 2010 and 2016 with considerable similarities.’

He sat up straight. ‘Falls from a high-rise balcony?’

‘No. The methods were entirely different, but all three women had very long hair and had radical haircuts during the last days before they died.’

‘O-kay,’ he said, taking the pitch up at the end.

I pressed closer to him, forcing myself to keep my voice down in my excitement. ‘One of the women, Lorna Sullivan, was being followed shortly before she died. Someone hacked at the back of her hair – took out a chunk in the top layer without her knowledge. It was exactly a week before she was killed. That’s why she needed the haircut. She didn’t want to have all her hair cut off – she was forced into it.’

He plucked another nut from the packet and nodded, his eyelashes fluttering in the way they did when he was thinking.

‘Hazel had a dramatic haircut in her last week,’ I said, ‘and a witness said Charlotte had too. During the final week before she died. It’s a bit weird, don’t you think? Surely it’s something?’

He tilted his head from side to side, weighing it up. ‘It’s certainly odd.’

I went on, desperate to convince him. ‘So, the haircuts themselves are definitely a pattern with each of these three women, but what if there’s more than that?’

He turned to face me and studied each of my eyes in turn so deeply, it felt like he was climbing inside me. It knocked me off balance. I’d never before been faced with a conflict between the determination to get my point across and the desire to simply sink into a man’s arms. It was disconcerting to say the least.

I decided to own up. ‘I knew Lorna. She was a patient of mine nearly ten years ago.’ In an instant I wished I hadn’t. I gripped his arm. ‘Don’t say it’s a conflict of interest. I really want to get to the bottom of this. I owe it to her. She was such a sweet innocent girl.