Nine Lives, Anita Waller [best interesting books to read .txt] 📗

her friends, and she confirmed Imo had been with them, but didn’t go for the meal. She had complained of a headache and decided to head home.

By ten, Pete decided enough was enough and he rang the police. He’d heard the news about the two dead students. He didn’t go back to bed.

Erica was impressed by the young man. He spoke well, waited, still in his dressing gown, until she sat, and watched as Beth disappeared into the kitchen to make them all a coffee. His face showed some unease and Erica was keen to progress, to help that unease disappear. He deserved that much.

She took out her notebook and carefully asked questions. She had already seen the photograph of Pete and Imogen that was standing on the coffee table, and knew she was about to impart the worst of all information to the young man with the blonde hair and watery blue eyes.

Beth returned with the coffee mugs, and he looked at Erica. ‘What aren’t you saying, DI Cheetham? Has Imo been in an accident or something?’

Erica leaned across and picked up the photograph. ‘Is this Imogen?’

‘It is. Will you please tell me what’s wrong?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Erica spoke gently, ‘but we believe a body found this morning is that of your Imogen.’

He seemed to crumple in front of their eyes. ‘A body?’

‘Yes. I’m so sorry. We will need to ask you to make a formal identification, but having looked at this picture I’m sure Imogen is our victim.’

‘Victim?’ He stood, agitated. ‘What do you mean? She’s been murdered? Or is it an accident?’

‘We believe the killer to be the same person who has already killed twice this week, but I can’t give you any more information than that.’ Erica took hold of his hand and gave a gentle tug. ‘Please sit down. We have a few questions we need to ask you. I understand you worked a night shift last night?’

He nodded, almost unaware of tears falling from his eyes, and she continued. ‘Where do you work?’

‘I’m… I’m a night manager at a twenty-four hour Tesco in Rotherham,’ Pete said, sitting down. He took a tissue from the box on the coffee table and wiped his eyes. ‘Sorry…’

‘Please don’t apologise. Take your time. You didn’t leave your workplace at all last night?’

‘Not for a minute, there are twenty members of staff who will vouch for that, but so will your colleagues. We had some bother about two this morning with some drunks who’d fallen out of a nightclub and called in to see what alcohol they could get from us. They dropped a couple of bottles of wine, so I went to deal with them, but they waved the broken glass around and I sent for the police. They were there until shortly after four. Arrested the lot of them.’

‘And you were home for just after seven?’

‘Yes. I finish at six, but because of the trouble it took longer than normal to do the handover. I had a form to fill out, that sort of thing, and it delayed my departure. When I saw Imo wasn’t here, I assumed she’d stayed with one of her mates. They’re a crowd of six or seven, all work for the same solicitors in the city centre. They go out a couple of times a month, so I didn’t worry then. It was only when I woke at nine to take in an Amazon delivery that I realised she’d be at work so I rang her. Her mate said she’d gone straight home after the gym session because she had a bad headache, so I tried her mobile. Nothing. By ten I thought there must be something wrong so I rang the police. And now you’re here telling me I’ve lost her.’

‘I really am deeply sorry. Is there anybody we can call for you?’

He shook his head. ‘No, I’ll ring my brother. He’ll come over. You’re sure it’s Imo?’

His eyes said everything, and Erica could have cried alongside him. ‘I’m sure. You’re not married?’

‘No, we’re engaged. Oh God… her mum and dad…’

‘Would you like us to notify them?’

‘No, that’s my job. I’ll get dressed after I ring my brother, and he’ll run me over to tell them. I’ll make the formal identification, DI Cheetham. I can’t ask them to do that.’

Erica put down her mug, and the two police officers stood. ‘We’ll leave you now. This is my card… if you think of anything that could possibly have some bearing on these cases, please ring. Anything at all, Pete. Any tiny detail.’

He followed them to the door and watched as they walked towards their car. Only then did he let himself cry properly for his Imo.

13

Erica felt angry. How could she be attending her third post-mortem of the week, and it only be Wednesday afternoon? She saw Ivor’s head lift and look across at her, and she waited.

‘DI Cheetham? This young lady was pregnant. I would say around eight weeks.’

Erica felt the anger escalate, knowing she would have to tell Pete Vanton this news. He hadn’t only lost his fiancée…

She breathed in and out slowly. ‘Thank you. And everything else is the same as the others?’

‘It is. We’re waiting for the tox results, but I don’t doubt the drug will be present.’

‘Why the hell are these girls getting into this car? It has to be a vehicle, and this weather is probably helping the killer. Offering them a lift because it’s raining – good call. But surely they must know him. Or think they do. Even that mark for the hypodermic leads us to think he’s in the driving seat, and he simply reaches across with the damn needle and injects it into them.’

‘I fear your reading of the situation is accurate. Now you have to weigh up how much to release to the general public to keep them aware, and how much to hold back. I don’t envy you your job.’

‘Thanks, Ivor. We have to go. I’d like to bring