Cut You Dead (Dr. Samantha Willerby Mystery #4) - A J Waines Page 0,92

was a definite link between Hazel and Chris, I had to go back. I had to speak to Mrs Pitlock again. I’d only scratched the surface.

With my insides churning, I rang Mrs Pitlock, using the number I’d got from the police file.

‘What? Straight away?’

‘I’ve just spoken to my manager,’ I lied. ‘She’s delighted about our conversation and is eager to hear more. It might mean another fifty pounds.’

‘Oh, all right then,’ she muttered.

On the way back up, I had a call from Terry.

‘I’m a complete idiot,’ came his words.

‘Why, what’s happened?’

‘I’ve just twigged what you were getting at with Ralph Stone. I kept going over it in my head, then the penny finally dropped. What a dimwit. Ralph’s been a patient of yours, hasn’t he?’

I chuckled. ‘Yes!’ I wanted to skip into the air with joy now that the kink in communication between us had been ironed out.

Terry went on. ‘And, of course you can’t say anything about him. I’m so sorry I put you in that position.’

‘It was mostly my fault. I didn’t know how to explain.’

‘I feel terrible.’ His voice dropped into a deep slow drawl. ‘I missed you last night. We could have been together and I got myself into a silly huff and–’

‘I know. I’m sorry too. Let’s do tonight, shall we? Shall I come to you again?’

‘You’re not going to tempt me with one of your culinary delights then?’

‘Er… not if we’re going to keep seeing each other.’

He laughed and I wished I could reach out and hug him.

‘Come over for eight,’ he said.

Mrs Pitlock was halfway through eating a muffin when she let me back in.

‘Do you want some?’ she asked, waving the wrapper at me, dropping crumbs.

‘No thanks.’

I took off my coat in the hall, prepared this time for the blast of Saharan heat that awaited me.

‘So what do we have to talk about now?’ She returned to the squeaky rocking chair.

Out came my notebook again. ‘The idea of relocating to Spain…’ I said, figuring out on the spot how I could feasibly bring Hazel back into the discussion. ‘Was that originally your idea or Chris’s?’

‘Both, really. I rang to arrange the first visit.’

‘You said Chris asked Hazel lots of questions. Did you think leaving the UK was a good idea for him?’

‘To help him move on, you mean?’

I nodded.

‘He never mentioned it specifically, but it crossed my mind, certainly. He was terribly shaken up after Charlie left him. Then when she was found dead… and all that. It was a lot for him to cope with.’

‘Of course.’

‘This idea about Spain certainly perked him up.’ She gave me a sly grin. ‘And the girl who came… I mean, she was gorgeous, no two ways about it. His eyes lit up when she showed up at the door, I can tell you. All that lovely long hair.’ Mrs Pitlock plucked a crumb from her cleavage, popped it in her mouth and licked her lips. ‘I joked she must trip over it getting off the bus. Not to her face, obviously.’

I joined her in laughter, my heart pattering fast.

‘Do you have any photos of Chris and Charlotte you could let me see?’

‘Not many, everything’s online these days, isn’t it? There’d be plenty on Chris’s phone, if you wanted to wait for him.’

‘No, no – I don’t need to bother him.’

‘Arthur’s probably got a few too, but he’s gone down the bookies as per usual. Got a day off.’

Mrs Pitlock tackled the living room assault course and disappeared. Finally, she made it back with a dusty photo album under her arm. She sat beside me on the sofa and opened it between us, flicking pages towards the back. I recognised Charlotte; there were various pictures, but none of them very good. Blurred close-ups of the pair of them, pictures taken on a pier somewhere, others in a nightclub.

‘Charlotte had lovely long hair,’ I mused innocently.

Mrs Pitlock pressed her greasy finger fondly into Charlotte’s face. ‘Yeah, we talked about how she was going to put it up into something fancy with flowers on her wedding day.’

‘Did Chris talk about her hair much?’

She puffed out her bottom lip. ‘Not specially.’

‘Did Chris like going out with women with long hair?’ The words were out before I realised how inflammatory they sounded, but she didn’t seem to notice.

‘Never known him date anyone else except Charlie. Like I said – he was a shy kid growing up.’ She stopped to think. ‘Someone said she cut it all off in the end.