Chapter Nineteen
DI Phillips studied the young blond man sitting opposite him.
Difficult bastard, he thought. Everyone else had presented themselves for interview within twenty-four hours but it had taken until Tuesday morning to get him here.
His father had moved heaven and earth to track him down, only to find him shacked up in some hotel along the south coast with his blonde girlfriend.
They both seemed to treat this whole thing as a joke.
This was a murder investigation, for heaven’s sake.
The girl had been apologetic when he reminded her of the seriousness of the situation, unlike Jordan who now sat smirking at him across the table.
Jordan Hunter was known to local police.
In his warped imagination he probably saw himself as a bit of a comedian; someone who liked to liven up the place, especially this sleepy little fishing port.
Phillips’ definition was a little more basic: a waste of space and a bloody nuisance.
He was young, wealthy and irresponsible.
God knows what sort of upbringing he’d had.
He caused trouble wherever he went and his father constantly picked up the bill for the damage.
Jordan was clever though, he had to give him that.
He’d never been done for a traffic offence or been caught drink driving.
No, he had three stooges in the form of Daniel Bolitho, Spencer Hart and Ed Rees to take any hit, each one of them more than willing to put their own necks on the block to give the little bastard a watertight alibi.
The reason he commanded such loyalty was no doubt because he had something on all three, which meant he could manipulate them.
He had also heard rumours of violence connected to Jordan from a couple of years back.
Something about a barmaid at one of the local pubs who ended up with a black eye and a broken arm.
Of course, it was all hushed up. Said she’d fallen down the stairs at home, then quietly disappeared back to support a sick mother somewhere in the Midlands.
All lies, although nothing could be proved without the victim making a complaint.
And none was ever made; Gareth Hunter’s money had probably sorted the problem, buying his son’s way out of trouble yet again.
Jordan had admitted knowing Marika but painted her as someone who had turned into a borderline stalker.
‘She became obsessed with me,’ he said, ‘just because I was friendly. When I first met her I thought she was lonely. I felt sorry for her. Should have kept away, I suppose.’
‘You were seen together,’ Philips countered, ‘on several occasions.’
‘I told you I felt sorry for her, right? All alone in this country. The other girls at the hotel weren’t very nice to her. Yeah, I took her out a few times. I wanted to show her where all the local clubs and pubs were. Help her settle in. But that was it.’ He gave a careless shrug.
‘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.
She braced 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 be around 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.
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Nessa protested. ‘Stay where you are.’ Swinging around, she marched back to the counter, tore one of the paper slips from a hook on the wall and made her way to where the three sat. ‘Your bill, ladies,’ she said politely, ‘and then I’d like you to leave.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Rosalind peered up at Nessa as if she had no idea what she was talking about.
‘I need you to pay up and leave.’
‘And why would we do that?’ asked a bemused Rosalind, looking around at her equally perplexed friends.
‘We were just about to order another pot of tea, weren’t we, ladies?
’ The other two nodded in agreement. ‘We haven’t caused any trouble.
We were having a nice quiet lunch until they arrived.
’ She pointed across at Cat and Jodie. ‘It’s her fault,’ she said, singling Cat out for special attention, ‘hanging around with low life like him. Goodness knows what her father will have to say when he gets back.’
Cat rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t stay here. Let’s go,’ she said, retrieving her tote and getting to her feet.
Outside, she walked over to the wall overlooking the harbour. Rosalind Myers was a total bitch. How could Aunt Em possibly call them friends? Jodie’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and her thoughts turned to Luke.
‘I need to call Gareth,’ she said, pulling her phone from her bag. ‘He’ll be able to tell me what’s happened.’
Gareth picked up on the third ring. Cat didn’t mention her encounter with the trio in the Copper Kettle, only that she’d heard rumours of Luke’s arrest, and then asked him if he knew anything about it.
‘The police arrived here just before midday. He was cautioned and taken away. I can’t tell you much more.’ She frowned at the lack of concern in his voice, his words uttered so casually, so unemotionally.
‘I don’t understand.’ She struggled to process not only what he’d said but his attitude.
‘Didn’t you go with him or at least arrange for legal representation to be there when they interview him?
’ She chose the word interview deliberately, unable to deal with the alternative interrogate and its implications.
‘Cat, I have a business to run. I’ve been in meetings all morning and, as for a solicitor, I guess the police are able to arrange that.’ He sounded as if he had better things to do.
‘A duty solicitor? Gareth, he’s family.’
‘Yeah, well.’
His words hit a raw nerve, which angered her. ‘Well what?’ she demanded. ‘You think he’s guilty? Is that why you’ve abandoned him?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ he snapped back at her.
‘You didn’t have to.’ She noticed that although he was quick to deny the first part of her comment, he didn’t challenge the fact she’d accused him of abandoning Luke. ‘Gareth, I don’t understand any of this.’
‘Look, Cat, I have to go … someone’s just arrived to see me.’ Liar, she thought, he can’t face up to what he’s done and he’s keen to get away from me.
‘Before you go, can you at least tell me where they have taken him?’
‘I’m not sure. I didn’t ask. Cat, I have to go …’
‘Great, well thanks for nothing.’ Cat killed the call and spun round to face Jodie, throwing her mobile back into her tote. ‘How can he do this? He took Luke in, raised him, and now it seems he’s simply thrown him to the wolves without a backward glance.’
Standing next to Cat, Jodie appeared to have got the gist of the conversation as it had been taking place. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘sod Gareth, we need to get to Truro right now. That’s where they’ll have taken him.’