Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took about fifteen minutes until I was released, and another ten after that for Vinny to get there from the Fishbowl.
He saved the lecture about me going off on my own, probably because he’d given it so many times in the last couple of years he knew there was no point, and then started to speak to anyone he could find to see if they’d seen Lily or a man matching the description she’d given, which could’ve applied to half of Manchester.
I was indignant and irritated, and Lily’s phone was still going straight to voicemail.
“She could be anywhere,” Vinny said, sitting at the table in the first-floor café. He’d bought me a coffee and for himself, some carnival queen of a matcha tea, which I took a photo of and sent to the rest of the team. “She might not have even been here.”
“She said she was being followed.”
“The locals have been told we’re looking for her; someone’s gone to check her house – she could be home by now.” His expression reminded me of the sky before the storm.
“Or the person who threw the brick through her window has her.”
“How likely is that? She said she was in Afflecks and would wait for you here. No one’s seen her and it would be difficult for anyone to yank someone out of here, either conscious or unconscious.
” He sighed, giving me another glare for good measure.
“I’ve got Carly tapping into the cameras that catch all the entrances. We’ll see if Lily was here at all.”
My phone started to ring, Lily’s name on the screen. I flashed it at Vinny before answering it.
“Mia,” Lily said, sounding much better than before. “I’m so sorry, my phone died.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at home. The police have just been round to check on me.”
I was annoyed with her and myself, feeling foolish. “When did you leave Afflecks?”
“Oh, I decided to head home, and my phone died on the way. After I spoke to you, I couldn’t see him, so I jumped in a taxi. I really wanted to let you know but my phone took ages to switch on and I - ” She carried on rambling for another few seconds.
“It’s fine, Lily, I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I’m so sorry I put you to so much trouble. I think I’m getting paranoid; all this talk about the past has made me really shaky. Damien’s offered for me to stay at his tonight in the annex, and I think I’ll probably do that, just in case someone was following me.”
I didn’t tell her that someone had locked me in the bathrooms, not sure whether that would worry her more, or signify something else for her. “Maybe the company would do you good.”
“Maybe. He’s the first friend I’ve really had. That sounds so sad, doesn’t it?”
“When did you tell him about being followed today?”
“Just before I called you, when I was still in town. He suggested I call you directly, that if I phoned 999 I wouldn’t be taken seriously.
I keep wondering whether it’s just in my head, that it was a different person I kept seeing and my mind was playing tricks on me.
Maybe it’s me and I’m going mad. Or maybe I was never sane to begin with.
” She laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound.
“As long as you’re feeling okay now.” Which was the sympathetic thing to say, if not what I wanted. “Lily, were you friends with a boy called Stefan?”
She laughed again, too high a pitch, too short. “Maybe. My brain’s blanked out a lot of stuff from then.”
“Okay, not to worry.” I shook my head at Vinny who was slowly shaking his head at me. “Look after yourself.” I ended the call, putting my phone on the table. “No point Carly going through the cameras.”
“I want to see if she was here at all.”
“I definitely heard a coffee machine in the background when she called. She could easily have been here and then in a taxi by the time I got here.” I wasn’t convinced either way, and that was the problem.
“Let’s get Carly to check. Lachy spoke to Scarlett Walton; she only remembered Adele and a lad called Dean from that night.
She said there were at least three or four others with them, and they were people Lily knew rather than her or Adele.
” Vinny finished his princess drink. “Scarlett also said they weren’t drinking that night.
None of them had any money, just a few cigs so they’d gone for a smoke.
She remembered they’d all gone home early because they were bored and it was cold.
Lily went off with one of the lads she knew and that was the last Scarlett saw of her. ”
“More evidence that Lily wasn’t drunk. I don’t think we’re anywhere close to finding out what happened that night.
” I drained my coffee, realising my claustrophobia wasn’t limited to being buried alive.
I also did not like being locked in somewhere.
While I’d been banging at the door, I was envisioning the building being set on fire and not being able to get out.
At one point, I’d forced open a tiny window and was trying to work out how I could fit through it.
Vinny folded his arms, his jacket purposely a size too small, so his biceps looked like they were bulging more than they actually were. “Look, I think Lily should still be in a secure hospital. She’s unhinged. But I think you’re right – there’s more to the original investigation.”
“I went to see Terry Jones.” I filled him in on the conversation. “He warned me off digging.”
“A cover-up somewhere.”
I nodded. “What if someone else was involved with the Goodhew fire and the police knew. They were avoiding any other line of enquiry apart from Lily.”
“What’s your theory, Mac?” He stood up and stretched, flexing muscles a little too hard. I turned around and saw a woman behind me who was definitely Vinny’s type.
I stood and walked around the table, slipping an arm through Vinny’s and using his shock as an opportunity to put my hand flat against his chest.
“Mia,” he hissed.
“Just making sure you stay on task.”
He spun around. “If you want to go on a date with me, just say.”
“I really, really don’t. I just didn’t want her to suffer. It’s my job to look after the public.” We walked out of the café and towards the main stairs. “I don’t have a theory. Not yet.” But I had an idea forming.
The Fishbowl was busy for a Tuesday afternoon; Nick had been pulled away onto another case, a woman killed with her partner already in custody.
It looked to be one of those quick and easy cases where the motive was clear and the suspect linked with hard evidence, in this case a neighbour who witnessed him leaving the house covered in blood.
I supposed that the Goodhew case had been the same on the surface. Lily had motive and a background that suggested she was impulsive enough to set the fire, and she had accelerant on her, even if it was only one type. Maybe I was reading too much into it, only Terry Jones had protested too much.
“Mia, there’s a call for you,” Carly interrupted my thoughts. “Andrew Smith.”
I frowned, taking the handset off her. “DS McAllister.”
“Hi, Detective. I’m sorry to bother you, but I feel like I wasted your time before and I have a few other things I need to tell you. Do you think you can come over?” His words were calm, resigned.
I looked around the office. Wrigley was nowhere to be seen, probably preoccupied with the new case or the cricket, both were possibilities. “I’ll be an hour. Will that work for you?”
“Absolutely. I’m not going anywhere.” He hung up, not giving me a chance to confirm where he’d be.
Vinny was filling his mouth with deep fried onion rings, which would be enough to save the female population on its own.
“Fancy a drive out to the sticks?”
“Can I eat my burger in the car?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll wait till you’ve finished it. Andrew Smith’s called; he’s got something else he wants to share with us.”
“You’re not going off on your own again then?” His words pushed through batter and onion.
“Once was enough for today.” I also thought Andrew Smith would be different with a man there.
“Okay. I’ll drive then.” He angled the rest of the burger into his mouth and chewed it in the least attractive manner possible.
I grabbed the thin coat I kept in the office, feeling cold since I’d been rescued from the toilets by the girl who’d been looking at her phone in one of the cafés.
When I got to the weekend, I promised myself, I’d spend some time outside running, processing these fears about fire and being trapped in places I couldn’t get free from.
“You okay?” He frowned at me.
“Why?”
He sighed again and shook his head. “So defensive. You haven’t argued about driving.”
“I’ll leave my car here overnight. Can you drop me off at home afterwards?”
“What about your car?”
“You can pick me up in the morning on your way in.” Vinny had just moved about five streets away from where I lived, which was both convenient and slightly worrisome.
“I’m not your chauffeur.” He pulled his car keys out and jangled them at me. “But because I feel sorry for you being locked in those toilets I’ll do this for you this occasion.”
“You owe me at least five lifts.” I stole his bag of fries with extra salt. “I’ll eat these in the car.”
I was back at Andrew Smith’s house for the second time that day after experiencing what it was like to sit next to someone who once had aspirations to be a Formula One driver yet again.
“Nice house,” Vinny said, appraising the garden and the neat front door.
“It’s stuck at least two decades ago.” I rang the bell. “It’s interesting.”
“That fits with The Holding, though,” Vinny said. “Not wasting for wasting’s sake – why update the furnishings if they’re still usable?”
The door opened, Andrew Smith stepping aside so we could both enter, looking surprised at Vinny being there.
“DS Vinny Leigh.” Vinny showed him his ID. “Thought I’d give DS McAllister a lift.”
“Come through then.” He showed us through to the front room again which looked no different to how it had this morning, even with the dints in the cushions.