Tara’s heavy breathing and crimson cheeks told Alice everything she needed to know about Tara’s mood as they got back in the car. ‘What was with all the questions about Kerry’s kid?’
Alice remained quiet, focusing on the road, looking for something familiar to help her get her bearings.
‘Stop ignoring me, Alice Rose Goodman.’
Alice’s head slowly craned around. ‘You full-named me. Why do I feel like a naughty school child?’ She couldn’t help but grin.
Tara’s face remained stern for a moment longer, before a smile slowly broke through. ‘Seriously though, I thought you just wanted to find out if there was anyone else who could have attacked Kerry.’
‘I did. I do. You heard what she said: Kerry didn’t have any regular clients.’
‘You’re just going to take her word for it?’
Alice had been asking herself the same question. What other choice did they have but to believe her, though? And besides, why would she lie?
‘I don’t want to believe that one of our friends could have been involved in her death,’ Alice said.
‘Then don’t!’ Tara fired back. ‘The police aren’t looking at any of them, so what makes you suspect they could be?’
‘Because of the lies! Dave, Scott and Ben have all lied to me about what really happened that night, I’m sure of it. But I don’t understand why. If the three of them are lying to the police then there has to be an ulterior motive; either they’re covering for one of the group, or they’re covering for each other. I know these people, it frightens me to think that one of them could be capable of … that.’
Tara stared out of the window, biting her nail as she considered the predicament. ‘Okay, go through the list of who was there again that night. Who are our suspects?’
Alice took a deep breath and pictured the photos from Dave’s phone. ‘Ben, Dave, Scott, Abdul, Johnny, James, and Pete. Plus I think Abdul brought three friends along that Ben and Dave had known at uni, but I don’t know much about them other than their names: Gary, Duke and Michael.’
Tara counted on her fingers. ‘So, that’s ten altogether?’
‘Yeah, but Scott left the party early, and I didn’t see Gary, Duke or Michael in any of the later photos so I’m guessing they didn’t hang around at the Merry Berry bar for too long.’
‘Have the police interviewed them all?’
‘Apparently so, that’s what Dave said.’
‘There must be CCTV in and around the bar. I can’t believe there’s no image of Kerry being attacked,’ Tara mused.
Alice had been thinking the same thing, but the police hadn’t confirmed what – if any – security footage they had identified from the night.
‘Wait,’ Tara suddenly blurted. ‘You should have gone right at that last roundabout. Home is right.’
‘We’re not going home,’ Alice replied absently.
Spotting the road she was looking for, Alice took a sharp left, narrowly avoiding the kerb.
‘West Cliff?’ Tara enquired quietly. ‘We going to the beach?’
Alice gritted her teeth but didn’t respond, her eyes darting left and right as she searched for the road she’d seen on the news.
Turning right, she spotted the police tape lining the small space at the rear of the brick building, the dilapidated ‘Merry Berry’ sign hanging above it.
Tara gasped. ‘Tell me you didn’t just bring us to the crime scene. Are you crazy?’
Alice did a U-turn and found a space near a parking meter before killing the engine. The bar and police tape were a hundred yards up the road from them.
‘We’re not doing anything wrong by being here,’ Alice said nervously, her effort to reassure her friend missing the mark. ‘I wanted to see where it happened for myself. We’ll just walk around, that’s all. I promise.’
Alice exited the car, leaving Tara rooted to her seat until the fear of being found alone in the car got the better of her and she hurried after her friend.
‘If you start trying to break in somewhere, like some amateur detective from the telly, I’m out of here,’ Tara warned.
Alice had no intention of doing anything to draw unwanted attention to their presence in the area.
The Merry Berry bar looked like somewhere time had forgotten. She hadn’t noticed all the graffiti surrounding the abandoned building when she’d seen it on the news, and hadn’t realized just how rundown an area they were now in. This part of the town had once been a central nightspot, but as more rival bars and clubs had opened closer to the town centre, this area had become too much effort for socialites to get to. Alice could still remember Ben dragging her around the town on a pub crawl three years ago as he’d tried to recreate his university days for her. He’d pointed out plenty of places that had either now closed or been rebranded since his student days.
There was the usual supply of fast food wrappers, cardboard coffee cups and crisp packets lining the street. Alice scanned the road as they moved closer to the bar, looking for any sign of the off-licence Dave had mentioned, but it was only when they doubled back, passing the car and returning to the main road, that she spotted anything. The neon white sign would have glowed brightly against a night sky, and the stickers in the window promoted ‘Beers, Wines, and Spirits’. It had to be where they’d gone.
It wasn’t obvious which lamppost they’d tied Ben to, or whether or not he would have been able to see any of them from where they’d left him. Pulling out her phone, she looked at the image of Ben and the lamppost that she’d sent herself from Dave’s phone. Apart from a dark coloured wall several feet behind him, the picture could have been taken next to any lamppost on any street in the world.
‘Mrs Goodman? Alice?’ a familiar-sounding voice called from across the street.
Turning, Alice desperately hoped the voice didn’t belong to who she thought it did. She cursed under her breath as she spotted DC Vanessa Hazelton waving her over.
‘Who’s that?’ Tara asked.
‘Just keep quiet and let me handle this,’ Alice muttered between clenched teeth as they crossed the road towards the puzzled detective.
‘I thought that was you,’ Hazelton began, pleasantly enough. ‘Were you looking for something in particular? I saw you park up, are you lost?’
There was no point trying to come up with a plausible excuse.
‘Just passing through,’ Alice said.
‘Who’s this?’ Hazelton asked, nodding at Tara.
Tara’s cheeks reddened, but she kept her mouth shut.
‘She’s a colleague,’ Alice explained. ‘We’re both teachers.’
Hazelton’s eyes burned a hole in Tara. ‘Are you from Bournemouth?’
Tara glanced nervously at Alice before shaking her head. The trouble was, Tara had been raised by a father who had served in the police until he was killed in the line of duty. Whenever trouble reared its head she tended to race off in the opposite direction, hoping the stench of the trouble didn’t follow. She’d been the same at university.
Hazelton’s glare returned to Alice. ‘I hope you’re not interfering in my investigation, Mrs Goodman. You can see how this looks, right? The wife of one of our potential suspects shows up in the vicinity of the crime scene while we’re still searching for clues. It looks suspicious.’
‘I just wanted to find out a little more about Kerry Valentine,’ Alice admitted, feeling her cheeks on fire.
Hazelton sighed. ‘That’s not your job, Alice. Ben hasn’t been totally ruled out of our investigation yet, and your presence here does nothing to help his cause. Do you understand? Don’t come back to Bournemouth until the investigation is complete or you’re going to force my hand and we’ll have to have a more formal conversation about your interest in Kerry Valentine. Am I making myself clear?’
Alice nodded. ‘I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help her poor son.’
Hazelton narrowed her eyes. ‘You need to stay away from him too, Mrs Goodman. For your own sake.’
Hazelton escorted them back to Alice’s Audi and remained on the street until Alice had pulled away.
‘I hope you’re happy now!’ Tara chastised. ‘Can we go home before she changes her mind and fetches the shackles?’
Alice ignored the question. Despite the warning, she’d come too far to turn back now.