‘How long?’
He shrugged. ‘Couple of months.’
And you were on the books of Haskell Robins estate agents?’
‘Yeah, but I didn’t buy from them.’
‘But one of their estate agents turned up dead, didn’t she?’
Brotherton frowned again.
‘Lisa King. Twenty-six years old. Married. Found in an empty property with her stomach ripped open. Pregnant.’
‘Wait a minute…’
Phil pressed on. ‘Right. Just circumstantial. Tenuous. I know. Try this, then. I could tell you that your name’s come up as someone who’s been questioned in brothel raids. A few of them. What would you say to that?’
Brotherton, visibly shaken, said nothing.
‘Okay. So you’ve got a hatred of women.You beat up girlfriends, you beat up prostitutes. Now, one of these prostitutes you say you didn’t know was Susie Evans. And you know what happened to her. She was murdered too. While she was pregnant. Her stomach ripped open, the baby taken out. Was that yours too?’
Brotherton looked frantically round the room, realised there was no escape.
‘You stalk women who dump you, threaten them. Your own girlfriend is pregnant and you offer to rip the baby out of her.’ Phil leaned forward. ‘And then what happens? She turns up dead. With the baby ripped out of her. Just like the other two who you claim you don’t know. And you lie to me about where you were on the night it happened. So, how am I doing so far, Ryan? How much more proof do you need?’
Brotherton put his head in his hands. His shoulders began to shake. He was crying. Phil saw his advantage, pressed on.
‘We’ve got you on CCTV outside Claire’s flat. We’ve got her phone records.’
He shook his head. ‘No… no…’
‘You killed her, Ryan, didn’t you? Just admit it, then we can start sorting it out.’
No reply, just crying.
‘You were out that night, weren’t you? The night Claire was killed.’
Brotherton said nothing.
‘I know you were. Sophie told us.’
‘Sophie…’ His voice was small and fragile, like a child who had been told there was no Father Christmas.
‘Yes, Sophie. She’s not going to lie for you any more, Ryan. So tell me the truth.You were out that night, weren’t you?’
Brotherton nodded. Breakthrough. Phil could barely sit in his seat, he was so excited. He swallowed down his rising excitement, controlled it, kept his voice steady, his breathing even, pressed on.
‘You went to her flat, didn’t you? You crept in and killed her.’
Phil waited. Here it comes, he thought. The confession. The climax he had been working for, building towards. Brotherton looked up, eyes shining, face wet.
‘Didn’t you, Ryan?’ Phil’s voice was gentle, coaxing. ‘You killed her.’
Brotherton shook his head. ‘No. I didn’t. I swear I didn’t…’
Phil studied him. Watched his eyes for deviation.
‘You killed Claire, Ryan. And Julie. Didn’t you?’
Brotherton shook his head once more.
‘Yes you did. Claire. And Julie. And Lisa. And Susie. You did. Didn’t you?’
‘No… no…’ Brotherton’s eyes slid down to the right.
‘
‘
Phil sat back, exhausted. He had seen it. Marina’s voice in his ear just confirmed it.
‘Oh my God. He’s telling the truth, Phil. He didn’t do it.’
Then, just to emphasise the point, Brotherton started talking. ‘Yes, I was out. There’s this… this girl that I’ve been seeing… a young girl. I… I didn’t want Sophie to know…’
Phil stared at Brotherton until he could look at him no longer.
Marina was right. Brotherton was telling the truth.
49
Graeme Eades felt like Superman.
He parked in front of his own house in Stanway, switched off the engine, sat back, closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. The afternoon with Erin had been beyond fantastic. She had joined him in the hotel room not long after he arrived, seemingly delighted at what he had bought for her. Cooing and squealing, she had gone straight into the bathroom and changed into the first outfit, telling him to just lie himself down on the bed and get comfortable, and she would give him a treat.
And what a treat. She came out, filling the basque beautifully, walking slowly and predatorily in her heels, a lascivious smile on her face. Once in the bedroom she moved the armchair to the end of the bed and proceeded to put on a show for him involving at least half of the toys he had just bought. He was pleased he had remembered the batteries.
He was so excited he almost came there and then but she wouldn’t let him. A quick change of costume and she joined him on the bed, making use of the lotions and oils. She smiled all the while at his reaction to her perfect and surprisingly gymnastic body as she joined it with his rather less than lithe one.
As he was about to come, Erin controlling and restraining the juddering, electric orgasm that was ready to burst from within him, she asked once again about promotion. Yes, he had gasped. Whatever. She went on to tell him how good she was at her job and whose job she thought she should have. Naturally, he agreed. That person needed sacking. Would he do it? He would. And give her the job instead? Yes. Yes. Yes. She smiled. Good. And allowed him to come.
He pulled the key out of the ignition, grabbed his briefcase, got out. His senses had been left reeling from his encounter, with more than his mind blown. As he walked up the drive he thought back over the promise he had made. He had known it wasn’t in his power to hire and fire. But Erin didn’t know that. Okay, perhaps he had exaggerated his importance and position in the company. So what? All men did that. Especially to impress women. He had promised her the job, yes, and she had reminded him of that promise as he had left, but again, so what? What could she do about it? He would tell her that, boss or not, these things took time, there were procedures to be gone through, but not to worry. She would get the job. No hurry. Yeah. String her along. And in the meantime…
He smiled. Best of all, he had put the whole afternoon, including his purchases, on expenses. Whatever, it was definitely better than paying for it.
As he approached the house, it felt like a black cloud was descending over him. With every step that took him nearer to his front door, the cloud darkened until it was almost pitch black as he put his key in the lock. He reluctantly tried to force Erin out of his mind as he prepared to confront Caroline. He had an excuse ready for being late – a meeting went on longer than expected, a client turned up he had to see, something like that, the usual – but to be honest, he didn’t care. He’d had enough of seeing her pained, pale face haunting the house as she dragged her lumpen body around, never happy. Put her next to Erin and there was no comparison. Before the pregnancy, maybe. The first one. But not now. Perhaps he should do something about that. Something to seriously think about.
He opened the door. He sighed, shook his head and entered. Should he shout? Tell her he was home? No. She might be sleeping. Hopefully.
He put his keys on the table as he always did. The hallway was in darkness. He tried the switch. It didn’t work. Puzzled, he walked down the hall. Opened the living room door. Ready for arguments, ready for misery. Ready for any of the normal responses he was greeted with when he arrived home.
But he wasn’t ready for this.
