Michael Fowler - Heart of the Demon

DAY TWENTY-ONE: 26th July

Grace Marshall had arrived early at the tea room, ordered a strong black coffee and sat down as close to the rear of the shop as she could. She was uneasy and experiencing butterflies in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t every day that a possible main witness had links to the police authority, even if it was only through marriage. This was going to be an uncomfortable meeting and needed a delicate approach. Grace had rehearsed over and over in her head what she was going to say and deep down she wished now she hadn’t suggested this to Hunter.

If this goes wrong she thought to herself, and the gaffer got to hear of it I’m going to get a right dressing down. She stared at the glassed front entrance wondering what Mrs Gardner looked like. It was just after ten-thirty am and the world outside the glass was bathed in strong sunlight. For a second she tried to recall the women’s soft tones without a hint of local dialect when she had called her yesterday afternoon. The voice had been very calming, very reassuring, and yet quite concerned about why there was a need to meet in such secrecy.

Whilst she waited for the coffee her eyes strayed around the room. It was the first time she had taken notice of the contemporary décor despite having used this tea room as a place to meet friends on many an occasion whilst out shopping. There were only another couple of people in there; a young mum with a toddler in a buggy and an older woman whom she guessed was the child’s grandmother.

When she had agreed the arrangements over the phone she knew from her previous visits that generally very few people would be in at this time. The other customers were just out of earshot; their conversation was just a muted jumble of words. That also meant they would not be able to overhear her speaking with Karen Gardner.

Five minutes after ordering the waitress appeared with her coffee. Grace thanked her with a smile and picked up the cup, holding it in front of her with both hands and turning her attention back to the entrance. The coffee was stronger and hotter than she had anticipated and caused her to jolt. It also wasn’t the best she had, but it would do; after all she wasn’t here to do a coffee morning.

The door opened with a pinging noise as it caught the bell fastened to the lintel. The slim, attractive, faired-haired woman in a dark, well-tailored suit met her own gaze, smiled, raised a hand and moved towards her.

“Detective Marshall — Grace?” she asked standing before her.

Grace nodded and pointed out a chair opposite. It was a natural reaction, for she knew Mrs Gardner was going to sit anyway.

Within seconds the same young waitress returned, pen poised over a small notepad.

Karen glanced at Grace’s drink. “Another coffee please,” she said softly. “Cappuccino.”

As the waitress walked away Grace leaned forward holding out her hand, carefully clasping the slender hand of Karen Gardner. Grace couldn’t help but spot the well-manicured French-polished nails. “Grace Marshall,” she introduced herself.”

“Karen Gardner,” replied Karen, taking back her hand.

The voice sounded nervous.

“Sorry I was so vague on the phone, but I didn’t want to give too much away.”

“I gathered that,” Karen replied.

Grace saw her swallow hard. She had visually examined Mrs Gardner as soon as she walked through the door and she could instantly see why Paul Goodright had visited her all those years ago. At forty-eight, she was still a very attractive woman and very tastefully made-up and dressed. She guessed she was a woman who could afford to spend lots of time at the gym judging by her slim figure and sunbed tan. Grace waited a few minutes whilst Karen’s coffee order came, making small talk about the weather and asking questions about Mrs Gardner’s fundraising events, hoping to put her more at ease. The cappuccino soon arrived. Grace waited whilst Karen took a sip, and then continued. “Mrs Gardner — do you mind if I call you Karen?”

She saw Karen finish the last dregs of the coffee, set the cup down and indicate with a faint smile and slight nod for her to continue.

“I asked to meet you here away from your home because what I want to talk to you about is a bit sensitive, but I won’t beat about the bush Karen. We’re trying to tie up some loose ends on one of our enquiries, and well basically it’s about an affair you had with a young detective, Paul Goodright, a good few years’ back.”

“Oh God is that all this is. I’ve been fretting ever since you called. I thought it was something more sinister.” She started to laugh. “It wasn’t an affair, we just went to bed together a few times.”

The response surprised Grace, but at the same time she knew from the reply this was now going to be easier than she had expected.

“How is Paul? He must be early thirties now. Is he married? Kids?” Karen Gardner was now firing off her own questions.

Grace responded with a series of nods.

“Please don’t beat about the bush any more, as you put it. About five years ago my husband discovered I was seeing someone, not Paul, another guy, and he confronted me about it. I never denied it. I told him a few home truths about all the meetings he went to, leaving me alone at night only to be wheeled out and be the dutiful wife when he needed me at his do or other. We had a big clear the air session, and to be honest it was well overdue. I suppose I was a little wild in my late twenties, early thirties. I saw a few guys, just for the attention which I wasn’t getting from my marriage, but for the last five years I’ve been the faithful councillor’s wife.” Grace saw her pause for a second glancing towards her. “I can see by your expression you’re surprised at how forthright I’m being.”

“I am a little taken aback,” replied Grace. She took another sip of her cappuccino. It was cold now, and she set it back down on the saucer.

“Look, as I say we sorted our marriage out. Oh by the way I only confessed to the one, he doesn’t know about the other couple, which includes Paul. My husband forgave me and its all water under the bridge now. Jerry’s not daft. He’s a politician at heart and he still sees me as his bit of ‘eye candy’ I think the term is. I’m by his side when he needs me, flutter my eyelids and say all the right things to his colleagues, and he allows me my freedom to shop and meet my friends down at the gym, and get my beauty treatments; it’s a happy compromise.” Mrs Gardner broke off, signalled to the waitress and ordered two more coffees, and then continued. “Now I’ve bared my soul officer Marshall can you give me a clue what this is about. The investigation?”

“Well it might not actually have anything to do with our investigation, but as I’ve said, it is a loose end that we need to tie up. I want you to try and cast your mind back to nineteen-ninety-three when you were seeing Paul.”

“Good God. I can’t remember what I did last week without my diary.”

“I think you might remember this Karen, he had the CID car stolen whilst he was with you one evening.”

“Oh yes I do remember that,” she started to laugh. “He was in a right flap. I was laughing when he came back and told me what had happened and he had to make the call back to his office. He told me it wasn’t funny. He said he had to come up with a story to cover up being with me. I wasn’t very helpful to him I’m afraid. I couldn’t take it seriously and to be honest that signalled the end of our short relationship.” Karen Gardner paused again and Grace saw her looking towards the waitress as the girl returned with the second order and cleared away their cups.

After she had gone Mrs Gardner continued. “Wasn’t the CID car involved in some kind of serious accident with another car; ran it off the road or something?” Karen stopped for a second, gazed up at the ceiling and tapped her chin. “Yes, that was it,” she continued, and Grace fixed eyes with her again. “I’m sure Paul told me that his sister and her boyfriend had been in the other car and that she had been seriously injured and her boyfriend had been killed. I think he also mentioned there was some kind of internal enquiry and if I was ever interviewed about Paul being with me I was to deny everything. That’s when he also told me he mustn’t see me again until things died down. But he never did get in touch again.” Mrs Gardner picked up her cup, took a sip, set it back down again. “Is that what this is about? Have you found out who took the car?”