Chapter 27

Rupert wants to hear about my latest skirmish with the police. He invites Raider and me to the flat after work but we postpone it until tomorrow night. The several hours I spent at the station have left me feeling pretty flat.

Death by Deception gets a couple of new scenes. Piper is called into the station because a ranger who made a pass at her has reported her for trespassing onto the bog sanctuary for breeding Dunlin. The female detective who interviews her accuses Piper of being arrogant for thinking she can solve Kelly’s murder. ‘Stay in your lane,’ she says. ‘Keep chasing cheating spouses.’

In another scene, a dog-owner with too much time on her hands meets Piper and Bandit in her street. I read that part to Raider. Later the woman reports Piper for snooping, only for the same detective to discover that our hero has joined the camera club (to investigate Kelly’s death in secret) and was just taking innocent photos of reflections for their weekly theme. Does Piper notice something in one of the photos later? I park that idea for now.

A little bit of ‘revenge-writing’ always improves my mood and I’ll come back later and make sure nothing points to any real person or event.

After a restless night fixating on reflections through windows, I’m brewing coffee when a message comes in from Rupert.

I saved this so you’d sleep. When I opened the flat last night there was another envelope pushed under the door. Don’t ask me to open it. We’ll do it together. Tonight.

I’m trying not to think about this latest note from Helena when Baxter arrives to walk Raider.

“I want to ask you about a photo at the camera club the other night.” I describe the bay window.

“Yeah, Zaylee took it.”

“I think there was a person mixed up in all the reflections. Do you remember?”

“A shadow. Was it a tree? We’ve posted the photos on our new website. You can check.” He tells me the URL. “Have you heard anything from Sim about Fletch’s photo?”

“No. I’m leaving them to negotiate.”

It’s taking a while. Or Sim doesn’t want to disturb my writing.

Raider is waiting patiently at the door. Baxter joins him and they’re gone.

I open the camera club’s website and scroll through the photos under ‘Reflect’, stopping at the view through Ambrose’s bay window. The caption gives the location and date. Serpentine Crescent on the day Ambrose died. The angle of the shot has caught the reflections of the trees like mirrors in the front panes, but the light on the side panes shows the mirrors inside. The viewer’s eye gets caught in a number of competing reflections from outside and inside. And there’s a shadow. A silhouette.

Of a woman.

I know Ben Baker won’t want to hear from me but I still have his mobile number from previous skirmishes. I send him the link to the photo.

His reply is quick. Only use this number for emergencies.

I ignore this and reply: Number 24 had another female visitor on the day Ambrose died. You’re welcome.

Rupert looks tired after his trip to France and the catch-up days on site. He shows me today’s video: the interior work on the upstairs offices. Hayden might take a lease on one of them. His current office above a café in the High Street is looking shabby and his landlord doesn’t want to spend money updating it. This would put Hayden and Henry in the same building. They have history but they won’t share the same entrance and they’re both old enough to put the benefits ahead of past differences.

The unopened envelope is taking up emotional space in the flat but we decide to eat first. A delivery of special fried rice from a local café – and a bottle of Pouilly Fume that Rupert brought back with him. We feed Raider first so he can be part of the conversation when we eat. He greets the delivery man and gets his ears rubbed.

When we’re sitting down to our meals on the coffee table, I retell the whole saga at the police station and Rupert finds a video of Raider and me online.

“You two are pretty photogenic,” he says. “And I’m disappointed in Ben. As a new DC he’s not in charge but your presence at Number 24 seems to have clouded their ability to cast the net more broadly.”

I show him the silhouette of the woman in the photo.

“Did Clemence say that Lou-Lou came over to have it out with Ambrose?”

“No,” he says. “But she must have been just as furious with her adopted father as she was with Clemence.”

“Except she didn’t have to come to Exeter. She could save her travel money and rage at him at home. And it sounds like she flounced off to meet her birth mother in Canada without even saying goodbye.”

Then I remember what Sugar’s owner told the police.

“She said she heard arguing coming from Number 24, and now that I’ve seen the silhouette in this photo it looks like she didn’t make that up.”

“And she put you in the frame to fit what she witnessed.”

“So if Lou-Lou is small and blonde like me – that would be enough to create a resemblance – what if she came here on her way to Canada?”

“That doesn’t mean she killed Ambrose. We saw him leave in the taxi, and she was probably gone by then.”

I tell him about the break-in in the neighbouring street.

“You think a burglar might have been caught by Ambrose? Ben thought he left for France at the same time every week. I wonder why he came back.”

The Pouilly Fume loses something as it warms so Rupert puts it back in the fridge. While it chills again, we need to do the same. It’s a good time to open the envelope. I should be feeling nervous or intrigued or something but after everything that’s happened I feel annoyed at the intrusion.

“Why is she sending another note when you’ve both got burner phones?” Rupert asks.

We haven’t thought of this until now.

A simple explanation presents itself. “She’s forgotten she has a second phone and she’s sending another note because she didn’t meet me at Ambrose’s house.”

Rupert passes me a paring knife to slit it open. My hand is shaking.

Sorry you got mixed up in his death. Not the plan! And I’ve lost the phone. See the new number below. What do you think of the loose ends? I’ve read your books and I know you like codes. Have you figured it out yet? Hint: It all hangs on a trace of DNA and a typo!

At first, Rupert and I are both silent as we take it in. Then our thoughts pour out.

“What wasn’t her plan?” I ask. “Ambrose’s death or mixing me up in it?”

“And what does ‘lost the phone’ mean?” Rupert says. “She’s ditched it on purpose, or she can’t find it?”

Raider has joined us on the sofa and he’s looking back and forth at our frowns. I take out the first note and we reread it:

I need to see you. It’s important. Do you have a burner phone? Get one. Use it to message me on the number below and call yourself AJMA. Then I’ll send you an address. Keep everything secret.

PS The password you want is: L005EEnd5.

More silence.

“There’s a striking difference in the tone,” I say. “The second note is much more personal. As if sharing the ‘loose ends’ on the flash drive makes us … complicit in a nasty secret. And she’s doing me a favour by giving me a hint.”

“What are you thinking, Tiggy?”

“It’s not from Helena.”