To Die For: A chilling British detective crime thriller (The Hidden Norfolk Murder Mystery Series Book 9) Read online

"Billy! Are you in there?"

  He waited. Still, there was no response. He tried the door, finding it unlocked. He cracked it open and called out again.

  "Billy! It's Gary!" He poked his head through the gap and glanced around. There was nothing untoward that he could see, the place was clean and tidy, but he'd never been inside before. Billy was always pretty coy when it came to letting him in, always keeping him outside on the rare occasions he stopped by for help fitting something to his car, to borrow a tool or give him a lift to work. He'd never taken offence, assuming Billy just liked his privacy more than most. It was true that he seldom spoke of his personal life, Gary presuming he didn't have anything of note to speak of.

  "What's going on?"

  Gary looked round to find Jenny standing behind him. He was expecting another admonishment but it didn't come. She didn't seem ready to hassle him.

  "I don't know," he said.

  "Blimey. What's that smell?"

  Gary hadn't noticed it, but then again his sense of smell was underdeveloped. Jenny's on the other hand was finely tuned. "I don't know," he repeated, frowning. "But come to mention it, something is a bit off."

  "Does his place always smell like this?" she asked as he pushed the door open further.

  "No idea. I've never been inside."

  The rush of air pulled from indoors carried the pungent smell to them, only this time it was far stronger. Jenny brought her forearm to her mouth using the sleeve of her thick woollen jumper as a mask. Even Gary cupped his mouth and nose with his hand. He took a step inside.

  "You coming?" he asked.

  Jenny shook her head. "Told you, he's creepy. And the smell… it must be minging in there."

  He dismissed her protests and entered. Despite her reservations, Jenny hovered at the threshold, peering past him as he walked across the open-plan living room, scanning the interior as he went and on towards the kitchen. The smell was growing stronger and Gary swatted away several flies buzzing around him as he approached the kitchen. His eye was caught by an old shoe box sitting on top of a large rustic wooden dining table with the lid upturned alongside it. He peered inside and his eyes widened. Turning to summon Jenny, he hesitated, his eye drifting to the floor.

  "What is it, Gary?"

  He remained still. He'd heard the question but didn't react, his eyes focussed in front of him.

  "Gary?"

  This time he did look back and there must have been something in his expression that conveyed far more than the words that stumbled out of his mouth. "I… I… it's… Billy."

  Jenny hurried over to where he was standing, disregarding the unpleasant smell and coming alongside she grasped his forearm, gasping as she looked down. Putting a hand across her mouth, she felt her stomach lurch and she gagged before turning and running from the cabin for the sanctuary of the outdoors.

  Gary didn't flinch, his eyes transfixed on the scene before him, fear rooting him to the spot.

  Chapter Two

  The band was in full swing. The dance floor was peppered with excited children and those who had made the most of the complimentary table wine through dinner. There were ten of them seated at the table but conversation was sparse. Beyond the person sitting immediately beside you, it was almost impossible to hear. Tamara Greave often found herself nodding and smiling appreciatively without any clue as to what was being said or if her mannerisms were appropriate.

  Eric and Becca appeared at her shoulder, the recently married Mr and Mrs Collet were grinning At least Becca was; Eric still looked rather like a rabbit caught in the headlights, the expression he'd adopted for the entire day. The lady sitting next to Tamara, who'd been speaking extensively about greenhouse maintenance as far as Tamara could tell, stood up and hugged both of the newlyweds in turn and sauntered off to find another victim to talk to. Tamara waved and smiled as she left, thankful of the respite.

  Becca slid into the recently vacated seat and took Tamara's hands in her own, Eric standing behind her and placing his hands gently on his bride's shoulders. Becca leaned in so that she wouldn't need to shout to be heard.

  "Thank you so much for everything you've done to help this week."

  Tamara smiled. It had been a pleasure. Becca was an only child and came from a small family which seemed to be at odds with most of the people she'd come across since she'd arrived in Norfolk. Becca needed to hear a voice from outside the family, and her relationship, turning to Tamara and Cassie for that support. One of the ushers approached Eric and whispered something in his ear and Eric leaned into Becca, excusing himself. Cassie came across and sat down with the two of them, nursing a glass of wine.

  "You go easy with that, Detective Sergeant Knight," Tamara said, eyeing the glass in Cassie's hand. "You've got work tomorrow, remember?"

  "It's sparkling apple juice," Cassie said, smiling. She seemed to recognise Tamara's sceptical expression. "I swear! I'm the designated driver. I lost out to Lauren seeing as she's got tomorrow off."

  "Turned out well then."

  Becca looked around, seeing Eric was deep in conversation with his uncle on the other side of the room and definitely couldn't hear her, she frowned at Tamara. It was the first negative look that had crossed the bride's face all day.

  "Thank you for helping with Eric's… mistake as well," Becca said.

  Tamara was momentarily thrown but then she realised. "Oh, the annual leave mix up?" Becca nodded. "That's okay. It's not a problem."

  "What have I missed?" Cassie asked. Tamara wasn't going to elaborate but Becca did.

  "I gave Eric one job to do for this wedding, besides showing up obviously. One job," she said raising a pointed finger. Tamara grimaced because she knew what was coming, Cassie leaned in attentively. Tamara had the impression Becca had been easing the stresses of the day with liquid lubrication.

  "What was that?" Cassie asked.

  "To book the honeymoon," Becca said, sitting back in her chair and throwing her hands theatrically in the air.

  "And?"

  "And he fluffed it," Becca said, shaking her head. Cassie glanced at Tamara who bit the outside of her lower lip and raised her eyebrows. "He got the dates wrong. Can you believe it?"

  "So, that's why he's still rostered on this week?" Cassie asked. Tamara nodded. "When are you going?"

  "A week tomorrow."

  Cassie smiled. "Well, that's not too bad. My youngest sister had to wait nearly a year for her honeymoon," she raised her eyebrows whilst looking at Becca whose jaw dropped, "but that was because they were skint."

  Tamara felt hands on her shoulders and looked up to see her mum's smiling face. She turned and Francesca stepped back.

  "What is it, Mum?"

  "I've got someone I want you to meet, Tammy darling."

  "Really? Now? We're just in the middle of—"

  "Becca, love, I think someone needs their mummy."

  They all turned as Becca's mother joined them, a crying George in her arms. She passed the two-month-old infant to Becca and the baby settled almost immediately, heading off the potential grizzling episode.

  "How are you, my little man?" Becca said tapping her forefinger near to George's chin and he opened his mouth to suck on it. "I think someone's hungry."

  Cassie leaned over to get a better look, smiling at the child. Francesca did likewise. Tamara admired from a distance.

  "He was so good during the ceremony, wasn't he?" Cassie said. "We barely heard him."

  "I'd better go and feed him."

  Becca slid out of her seat, heading off to find somewhere quieter to sit.

  "Come, come, come," Francesca said, clearly not taking no for an answer and levering her out of her seat and guiding her away. Cassie smiled and stood up herself as Tamara was led away.

  "Seeing as you have me here," Tamara said as she was speed-marched along the edge of the dance floor just as the band took a break and the brief interlude of silence was broken by a song aimed at the children. She caught sight of Tom Janssen being led onto
the dance floor by Saffy, his partner Alice's daughter although Tom was as close to a father as she was ever likely to have or need. Alice was clapping along to the rhythm of the music with the others at the table, one allocated to those guests with similar age children, as the dancers began a sequence of moves that must accompany this particular song, one that had happily passed Tamara by. But it was a lovely sight. "I was wondering if Dad was coming up again this weekend?" she asked, framing the question as casually as she could.

  "Oh, I think so, yes."

  Tamara glanced sideways at her mother who was staring at her, a knowing look in her eye.

  "That's okay, isn't it?"

  There was an edge to the reply. Tamara realised she had to tread carefully. Her mother's impromptu arrival on her doorstep, unannounced, over four months previously had been unexpected, as was her revelation that she'd left her husband, Tamara's father. Since then, the two had taken great strides towards a reconciliation, something that had gathered pace in the last couple of months but still her mother hadn't sought to return to the marital home in Bristol.

  "Yes, of course." She did her best to sound genuine and it was, to a point.

  "Then why does it not sound like it is?"

  Tamara stopped in her tracks, turning to face her mother. She took her hands in her own, squeezing them tightly and offering an earnest expression.

  "It is fine, Mum, honestly. I don't mind at all. I think it's great that Dad is making the trip… what is it, every couple of weeks now?"

  "Every weekend this past month," Francesca said, beaming.

  "E–Every weekend, right. I was just thinking… you know… just off the top of my head, if you might be going back with him this time?"

  Francesca's eyes narrowed. "So, it is a problem?"

  Tamara saw the hurt in her mum's face and moved to assuage it, firmly shaking her head. "No. I mean it, it's not a problem at all. I know we don't talk about… relationship type things and I was just wondering, that's all."

  "Really? You don't mind?"

  Tamara smiled supportively and Francesca relaxed, the evident tension in her shoulders visibly dissipating as she smiled.

  "Yes, you can stay as long as you like."

  "That's wonderful, Tammy." Tamara silently bit her tongue at the use of her childhood nickname, one she had never cared for, returning the smile. "Come on, I want to introduce you to someone." Francesca resumed her walk at a swift pace, taking a firm hold of Tamara's arm and dragging her along beside her. "I'm so pleased you said that, Tammy, because your father was thinking he'd stop for a few weeks this time so that I can properly show him the sights."

  Tamara, unseen by her mother, rolled her eyes as they walked. She didn't have time to formulate a reply as they quickly reached their destination. Francesca pulled out a chair at one of the tables in the second row back from the dance floor, ushering Tamara to sit down. She repeatedly tapped the shoulder of the man who was in the next seat with his back to them, currently in mid-conversation with two other people. He glanced around and Francesca warmly smiled. He returned it.

  "Conrad, this is my daughter – the one I was telling you about, Tammy."

  The man looked from her to Tamara and back again, momentarily thrown, before he smiled politely and nodded at Tamara. Turning fully to face her, he offered his hand and introduced himself.

  "Conrad Reardon."

  Tamara, self-conscious, hesitated before taking his hand and smiling.

  "Tamara."

  "Conrad works in finance, Tammy. In the city," Francesca said, tapping her palm on Tamara's shoulder, "don't you, dear?"

  "Ah… yes, yes I do."

  Tamara felt her embarrassment growing. Conrad seemed unfazed, though. Inclining his head and adopting a natural smile. "And I forget what it is Francesca said you do, Tamara."

  "I'm a—"

  "PR consultant," Francesca said, bending over and putting her head between them as she interrupted, turning her face so only Tamara could see and nodding furiously with her eyebrows raised. Tamara eased her mother aside, nodded and smiled. Francesca, grinning, righted herself. "I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted."

  She skipped away and Tamara smiled awkwardly at Conrad. For his part, he seemed to take it in his stride. Her mother wasn't very subtle but she did appear to have good taste. Conrad was a similar age to Tamara and clearly spent time in the gym on a regular basis. He was athletic, had a strong jaw line and sculpted cheekbones, a full head of hair that had the tiniest speckling of grey to its blond colour. He didn't dye his hair yet, she could tell. And he had the most natural, winning smile. The song that was playing ended and the lead singer of the band asked for everyone's attention.

  "Ladies and gentlemen – the ladies in particular I should imagine – it's the time you've all been waiting for. It's time for the bride to throw the bouquet!"

  A loud cheer went up accompanied by much applause. Tamara sat back in her seat and exhaled, pleased for time to gather her thoughts.

  "You're not going up?" Conrad asked as the women gathered at the end of the dance floor furthest from them, Becca walking forward with her flowers in hand.

  "Not my thing, really," Tamara said, smiling.

  "Really? My wife's always the first one up there."

  Tamara frowned. "Your wife?"

  "Yes, that's her," Conrad said, pointing to a woman in a pink dress in the thick of the group. Tamara nodded glumly. Call yourself a detective, she thought eyeing the gold wedding band on his left hand. As if she'd been waiting on a prearranged rescue signal, Alice appeared next to her, placing hands on both Tamara's shoulders and encouraging her to join the forthcoming melee. Tamara didn't argue as she allowed herself to be guided onto the dance floor.

  "He looks nice," Alice said in her ear.

  "Yes, so does his wife."

  "Shame."

  Tamara leaned in as the two of them took positions slightly off centre in the group as Becca turned her back to them and readied herself to launch the bouquet. "If it comes near us I'll give you a hundred pounds if you make sure you catch it!"

  "Deal," Alice said, laughing.

  The audience cheered as Becca hurled the flowers up and overhead. They arced through the air and the group all tried to track the route. One woman slipped and fell taking two others with her to the floor and despite her best efforts, Alice missed the flowers and instinctively Tamara caught them as they came to her. Everyone cheered and Tamara caught her mother looking at her, grinning. She winked and Tamara ignored her, smiling at those around her, noting the peculiarly dark look one young woman in particular was sending her way.

  She put her hand out and helped Cassie to her feet, as she was one of those who'd fallen.

  "I didn't think this was your thing, Cass?"

  Cassie shrugged. "Lauren bet me a tenner I couldn't get it and I hate to lose."

  "Here you go," Tamara said, thrusting them into her hands. "If she didn't specify exactly how and when you were to get the flowers, then you might still win… in a roundabout sort of way."

  "I like your thinking," Cassie said, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Tom came across to speak to them, his expression serious.

  "What is it, Tom?" Tamara asked as Alice slipped her arm around his waist. He looked into Alice's eyes and winked, clearly he wasn't bearing good news.

  "Just had a call," he said glumly. "A body's been found."

  Tamara could read the unspoken words in his expression. "I'll come with you."

  He shook his head. "No there's no need. I can take a look—"

  "I'm coming," Tamara said, catching sight of Francesca heading their way, Saffy in tow. The little girl ran ahead, slipping in between all the adult legs and threw her arms around Tom's, smiling up at him. He ruffled her hair. Tom looked at Alice, grimacing.

  "I'm really sorry."

  "I can run you guys home whenever you're ready," Cassie said to Alice. "It's not a problem"

  "Can you drop my mum off as well?" Tamara ask
ed as Francesca joined them.

  "Palming me off already?" Francesca asked playfully.

  "Duty calls, Mum."

  "Oh blast. That's such a shame."

  "Yeah, tell me about it," Tamara said. She looked at Tom. "We'd better have a word with the bride and groom, explain."

  He nodded, leaning down and kissing Alice. He then scooped up Saffy and she threw her arms around his head.

  "Do you really have to go to work now?"

  "Afraid so, munchkin," he said, smiling glumly. "Got to catch the bad guys."

  Saffy's brow furrowed, fixing a stern look on her face well beyond her years. "Don't they ever take a day off?"

  "It doesn't feel like it, does it?" She shook her head. "So, it's a good job I'm very good at catching them then, isn't it?" She nodded.

  "Can I dance with Eric?" Saffy asked.

  "We'd better check with Becca," Tom said. "Come on."

  "Or I could dance with Becca."

  "I imagine so, yes," Tom said, walking off to the newlyweds with her still in his arms.

  Francesca took hold of Tamara's forearm as she made to follow, drawing her a half step away from the others.

  "So, what do you think of Conrad? He's quite a catch, isn't he?"

  Tamara nodded. "I dare say his wife thinks so, yes."

  She unhitched herself from her mother's grasp and hurried over to where Tom was saying his goodbyes, leaving a rather perplexed Francesca behind.

  Chapter Three

  Tom Janssen pulled up to the entrance to the yard and was met by a uniformed constable standing at the gate with a liveried police car parked to the left of the entrance. He recognised both Tom and Tamara, waving them through. Tom lowered his window and the constable suggested they park on the left of the yard because the main crime scene was in the cabin behind him. Tom looked over and saw a red Audi that he knew belonged to Dr Fiona Williams, their local forensic medical examiner, parked alongside the forensics van. Beside these two vehicles was a CID pool car. Beyond these was another police car with two civilians talking with a uniformed constable who had his back to them and Tom couldn't see who it was.