Cut You Dead (Dr. Samantha Willerby Mystery #4) - A J Waines Page 0,59

went nowhere. The roses could have come from any store or market in London.

Wendy went on. ‘We all wondered if it could have been Chris, her ex-fiancé, but he had an alibi.’

I knew Chris Pitlock had been cleared as a prime suspect. Apparently, he had a firm alibi, didn’t have a police record and according to people who knew him, no history of violent outbursts.

Wendy hadn’t finished. ‘Although, I heard afterwards that someone else had borrowed his van that evening. So it might not have been Chris the police picked up on CCTV at the time of her murder.’

I grabbed my bag, delving inside for my notebook and pen. ‘Did you tell the police this?’ I asked, making a note.

‘Someone did – Bernie Proud. He was the one who pointed it out. He worked with Chris, but the police never interviewed him. I don’t think so, anyway.’

‘Did Chris use the van for work?’

‘Yeah. He’s one of those guys who goes around fixing traffic lights. They get called out at all hours of the day or night.’

Wendy ran her jagged nails over her bare knees. Pale and bony, they were laced with a network of previous scratches. I guessed she might have a problem with anxiety, perhaps also anorexia, judging by her attitude to lunch.

‘How well did you know Chris?’

‘He socialised with us once he got together with Charlotte. Pestered her for months until she finally gave in and starting seeing him. He’s quite a soft bloke, if you know what I mean. Really crazy about Charlie. But he was easy-led and inclined to get in with the wrong crowd. He was gutted when she finished with him.’

‘And she met someone else, it seems?’

‘That was the sense we all had. Not until they were over though. Charlie wasn’t like that. She’d never sneak behind a guy’s back.’ Wendy took her gaze away and fiddled absently with her earring. ‘She was very secretive about the new bloke and I took that to mean he was married. No one knew who he was.’

‘And you still have no idea?’

Wendy shook her head.

‘Do you think they were serious?’

She stopped to think. ‘Yeah – I think they were, actually. Charlie seemed different. On cloud nine. I’d never seen her like that with Chris.’

‘Charlotte was being followed before she was killed,’ I said. ‘Did you know about that?’

‘Oh, God, I’d forgotten about that. Someone cut off her hair, didn’t they? And, yes, she said someone had been prowling around after her, on the streets.’

‘Did she know who it was? Have any idea?’

‘It wasn’t Chris or any of his usual mates. I remember she was clear about that. I don’t think she ever worked out who it was though.’

Our discussion drew to a close after that. Wendy sat back, staring out at the busy street. I imagined she was replaying in her head the store of treasured memories of someone she clearly missed. The only remaining souvenirs of a beloved friend who would forever be perfect, frozen in time.

I thanked her as we got up to leave. As I opened the door, she grabbed my wrist.

‘You will get her killer, won’t you?’ She squeezed hard, her rough nails digging into my skin.

I assured her I’d do everything I could, handing her my business card. ‘And if you remember anything – even if it seems really small, do let me know, okay?’

44

Wendy and I went in opposite directions once we’d left the café. I had no idea of the time by then and when I glanced down at my watch, I was horrified. Damn. No chance to grab a shower or change before seeing Terry. I’d have to rush straight over to Earl’s Court or I’d be late.

I didn’t need to look in a mirror to know I looked an utter mess. I’d intended to wash my hair before the evening, but I’d have to tie it back in a ponytail. The baggy linen trousers and baby-blue mohair jumper I’d had for years we’re not the epitome of elegance I’d wanted to convey.

Terry opened the door red-faced, his hair in a tumble. ‘Hi,’ he grunted, smearing a streak of powdered spice across his nose. ‘Oh dear, I’m not having a great day. It’s all gone pear-shaped. Managed to forget the garlic, and the rice has burnt on the bottom of the pan.’

He stopped and took in my face. ‘But, it’s bloody good to see you.’

He wore a stripy chef’s apron and the overall appearance of him – earnest, but