Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

The officer’s voice took on an officious tone. ‘Sorry, sir. I’ll tell him you called.’

The conversation was abruptly ended.

Frustrated, Tom paced the floor. ‘Jesus! I’ll go crazy if I have to sit here waiting!’

In minutes he was out of the door and into a taxi, heading for the station, all the while keeping his eyes peeled for a sight of Lilian or Dougie.

Some way across town, the police were cruising the streets, searching for the woman who was to be taken in for questioning. They had her description; they knew she had been arrested once before for causing a public nuisance, and, having been given a detailed description, they would recognise her if they saw her. So far, though, they had seen neither hide nor hair of her. But they wouldn’t give up. This was a murder hunt. She must be found, and taken in for questioning.

Oblivious to the fact that she was being tracked down, Lilian strolled along the street, talking to Dougie, pouring out her heart. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve been a real problem to you.’

‘You’re not a “problem”.’ Dougie was surprised at how much she now meant to him. He smiled. ‘Well, maybe just a little “problem”.’

She laughed.

Serious again, she confessed how it had been with Tom. ‘From the first minute he walked through the door of the office, I loved him. He’s such a fine man … so caring. When my mother was taken ill, he was wonderful … both him and Sheila.’

She paused, thinking of Sheila and the children, and of what she had done. ‘I hurt them … Sheila and the children. I shouldn’t have done what I did,’ she whispered. ‘That was so wicked of me.’

Dougie had heard her say that over and over, and yet she would not admit to what she’d done. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ If he was to help her, he would have to know.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head. ‘I can’t. But if I tell you something else … you won’t tell Tom, will you?’

‘Not if you don’t want me to.’ He was shocked to learn how obsessed she had been with Tom. He had seen a side to Lilian that frightened him, and yet at heart she was just like a small child, needing love and reassurance.

She went on. ‘I used to go and see his family. I took a lot of pictures of Tom; he didn’t know I was taking them. And when I was invited to his home, I took pictures of his children, and his wife.’ Frowning, she momentarily lapsed into a deep, thoughtful silence. ‘Sheila was a really good friend to me.’

‘I know.’ That much, at least, he had been aware of.

‘She was a lovely person, so kind … so pretty.’ Her face hardened. ‘Tom adored her.’

He nodded, a hard expression shaping his homely features. ‘I know that, too.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘But go on … you were saying … about the pictures?’ Now that she was beginning to open her heart to him, he needed to keep her talking.

‘Well, Sheila invited me over a lot, and once I even went away for the weekend with them.’ It gave her pleasure to explain. ‘I became almost part of the family. There were so many photographs, you see. I put them on my dressing table, and on the doors of my wardrobe.’ She gave a nervous little laugh. ‘I even put them all over the walls. I needed to see him all the time … before I went to sleep, and when I woke up, I needed him to be there!’ Tears of anger clouded her vision. ‘I loved him so much.’ Quickly, impatiently, she wiped away the tears.

‘Lilian?’

She turned. ‘Yes?’

‘What did you do to Sheila and the children that was so “wicked”?’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Do you still love him?’

‘NO!’ Vigorously shaking her head, she told him through gritted teeth, ‘He’s ruined my life. I HATE HIM!’

‘Do you hate him enough to kill him?’

She turned to stare at him; in the growing twilight he imagined he saw the glint of madness in her eyes. ‘You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?’

‘No.’ He realised he would have to tread very carefully if he was to regain her trust. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I want to go home now.’

‘That’s where we’re headed.’

‘Will you stay with me?’

‘If you want.’

She slid her hand into his. ‘I think you’re like Tom.’

‘In what way?’

‘You’re kind. You take the time to listen.’

‘But you haven’t told me anything yet … not really.’

‘Only because I don’t want you to feel bad towards me.’

For the umpteenth time, the police car nosed its way down a side street. ‘Look!’ The officer pointed ahead, where Lilian and Dougie were strolling away from them. ‘Isn’t that her?’ He checked his description. ‘Yes, long curly auburn hair, that looks like her. Best move in before she sees us.’

Deep in conversation, both Dougie and Lilian were unaware of the police car until it stopped beside them. Flinging open the doors, both officers got out. While one of them stood guard on Dougie, the other confronted Lilian.

‘Are you Lilian Catherine Scott?’ he asked.

Calmer now, and knowing she must be punished, Lilian made no attempt to run. Instead, she verified her name and was quietly placed in the car.

Seeing how frightened she was, Dougie declared that he was coming with her. ‘She’s told me things you should know!’

‘All right, sir,’ they agreed, and he, too, was bundled into the car.

Ensconced in the interview room with Inspector Lawson, William Aitken was visibly nervous. ‘I dunno what yer talkin’ about! How many times do I ’ave to tell yer? I don’t know nuthin’ about no hidden car.’

Inspector Lawson was in no mood to be lied to. ‘Don’t give me that! We already know you were paid to conceal the car. What I want is a description of the driver: was he tall, short, nervous, arrogant …? I want to know every word he said, every move he made. You must remember how he left … was it on foot or by taxi? Was the driver on his own, or was there somebody else there, and if so, what can you tell me about the other person? Have you seen him since? Or maybe it was a woman. Was it a woman, eh, Aitken?’

His questioning was relentless.

The more Aitken claimed ignorance of the event, the more nervous he got and the more Inspector Lawson knew that it would only be a matter of time before he cracked.

Having arrived in reception, Tom was told, ‘I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to wait. Inspector Lawson is not to be disturbed.’

Tom asked again about Aitken but was given the same runaround. ‘If you’ll just be patient, I’m sure the inspector will be out soon.’

So he waited, pacing the floor and willing the time to pass so that he could know what was happening. The big clock on the wall ticked the minutes away; with every passing second, he thought of Kathy.

Why hadn’t he been able to get hold of her? Why hadn’t she rung the hotel? What was she doing? His mind was alive with her, his heart overflowing with love.