Peter Lovesey: The Headhunters

‘You must have wondered where they were, surely, finding a poor dead woman almost naked.’

‘I don’t know what I thought. I was very upset when I discovered what it was I’d found.’

‘You didn’t look around, then?’ Hen Mallin’s brown eyes regarded her with disbelief, if not disapproval.

Jo felt annoyed by the question. ‘I’m not an expert like you. I thought she’d been washed up by the tide. I’m only the person who happened to find her.’ She almost added that they were making her feel like a suspect, but she stopped herself in time. ‘Was she…?’

‘Raped? Apparently not. The signs weren’t there, but who can say what was in the mind of the killer? Something that starts out as sex play can turn ugly if the woman doesn’t welcome it.’

These words, ‘raped,’ ‘killer,’ ‘sex play,’ and ‘ugly’ struck Jo with near-physical force. ‘Do you think they knew each other, then? They went to the beach together for a swim?’

‘That’s our present assumption.’

‘And he held her under and she drowned?’

‘He, or she. We consider every option.’

‘Why?’

‘Why was she attacked?’ Hen Mallin turned up her palms. ‘No one can say yet. The killer could have planned it, expecting she’d be taken for some unfortunate woman who fell overboard. You understand why I’m asking if you remember anything from the scene?’

‘Who was she?’

‘We don’t know yet. She could be local. Equally she could have come from miles away. Or been brought there by her killer.’

‘Poor woman.’

‘Yes. Whoever she was, her luck ran out that weekend. Cast your mind back, Jo. Who did you see along the front?’

‘Nobody I knew.’

‘That isn’t what I’m asking. I don’t expect names. I want your recollection of everyone you noticed.’

‘That’s hard.’

‘Think for a bit. Take your time.’

She frowned. The finding of the body had pushed everything before that moment into a hazy, unimportant background. For much of the walk she’d been absorbed in her own thoughts, hoping against the odds to meet Jake. She’d been on the lookout for tall men, that was one sure thing.

‘There was a young guy who passed me early on. He was tall, over six feet, and wearing a fleece and tracksuit trousers. Grey, I think. And he had an iPod. Well, I saw the earphones.’

‘You say he passed you. Do you mean overtook you?’

‘No, he was coming towards me.’

‘From the direction of the body?’

‘Yes, but I don’t think-’

‘Hair colour?’

‘God, this is difficult. Darkish brown and short.’

‘Age?’

‘Younger than me. Mid-twenties probably.’

‘Was he in a hurry?’

‘He was walking quite fast when I saw him. He could have been a jogger.’

‘Did you speak?’

She shook her head. ‘There wasn’t even eye contact.’

‘But you’d remember him if you saw him again?’

‘I might. I can’t say for sure.’ She felt responsible, drawing attention to this guy who probably had nothing to do with the body. ‘He wasn’t the only man I saw along the beach. There was another, in combat clothes, down at the water’s edge throwing a ball for his dog.’

‘What-near the body?’

‘No. I told you nobody was there. This was further back, closer to those wooden buildings where the fish are sold.’

‘Go on,’ DC Pearce said. ‘We’re with you.’

‘I watched the dog running into the waves to collect the ball. It was a large black poodle.’

Maybe a pit bull would have impressed them more. The two detectives lost all interest in the dog owner. They didn’t even ask the colour of his hair. ‘When you saw the first man, the guy in the tracksuit,’ Hen Mallin said, ‘it was early on in the walk, you said?’

‘I think so.’

‘Not far from where you left the car?’

‘Probably.’

‘You wouldn’t have noticed if he got into a car himself?’

‘I told you. He passed me. I didn’t look back.’

‘Fair enough.’ Hen looked at her colleague. They’d run through their repertoire. ‘There’s nothing else you remember from that afternoon?’

‘I’ve told you all I know.’

They left soon after. Although something was said about thanks and cooperation, Jo felt it was only lip service. She’d had a mauling. She needed another coffee before she could face work again.

That evening one of those small cars that look as if it they’ve been sawn off at the back was parked in the spot she always used outside her flat, so she had to go looking for another place. Typical. The only space she could find was way up the next street. Serious damage to property (namely, one yellow Smartcar) was on her mind as she finished humping two bags of shopping the two hundred yards to her door.

Before she got there someone stepped out of the offending car and stood waiting for her.

Gemma.

‘Can I help with those?’

‘You’d better, seeing that you nicked my parking place.’

‘Sorry.’ Gem sounded worried, more worried than ill-judged parking warranted.

‘Problems?’

‘Mind if I come in? I’ve had a godawful week and it’s still only Monday.’

Supper would have to wait. Inside, Jo opened the bottle of merlot she’d bought for herself and carried two drinks to the sofa. The two friends sat facing the switched-off television.

‘It’s my butthead boss again,’ Gemma said. ‘You remember I was telling you about Fiona from accounts? Well, it seems I read the signs all wrong. She’s giving him the come-on now. In the last couple of days she’s appeared at work all done up like the next Big Brother contestant in really unsuitable clothes, low-cut tops and skirts a teenager would think twice about wearing.’

Jo was still feeling frayed from her session with the police and it wasn’t easy to take Gemma’s problems seriously, but she made the effort. ‘I thought she was the homespun type. That’s what you told me.’

‘And how wrong I was. That line she gave me about being embarrassed by all his interest was a load of horse hooey. She was sounding me out, making sure I wasn’t going to make a play for him myself.’

‘And what does he make of it?’

‘Laps it up, naturally. He’s starting to give her jobs that mean reporting back to him directly. Every time she comes in he sends me out on some errand.’

‘Do you think they’re at it in the office?’

‘Parallel parking? I wouldn’t put it past them. There’s some fooling around for sure, but that isn’t here nor there. What really upsets me, Jo, is that I think he’s grooming her for my job.’

‘Really?’ For all her efforts, Jo wasn’t sounding as outraged as the story demanded.

Fortunately Gemma didn’t seem to notice. ‘Yesterday she was told to take a spess-that’s a specification-from a client. That’s what I do. I should have done that.’

Jo rallied a bit. ‘Bloody cheek. Did you tell him he’s out of order?’

‘No. I’m a coward basically.’

‘You’ve got to stand up for yourself or she’ll trample all over you. If it happens again, you march into that office of his and tell him you won’t stand for it.’

Gemma shook her head. ‘I know what’ll happen if I do. My office experience up against her pulling power? No contest.’

‘The place can’t run without you.’

‘I wish that was true. I was talking to Rick and he said no one is indispensable.’

‘You’ve discussed it with Rick?’

‘We had a drink last night.’

‘And he wasn’t much comfort by the sound of it.’

‘He said the writing is on the wall. I’d better see what’s on offer at the job centre.’

‘Oh great!’ Jo’s fighting spirit surfaced. ‘Listen, Gem. Rick is way off message here. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re practically running that firm on your own. If you want out, okay, but if you want to keep the job you’ve got to hit back.’