‘I run exercise classes as well as doing this,’ she told him. ‘Penny comes as often as she can make it – usually on a Thursday night, when we have later sessions running. We got on well and we’ve been friends for the past couple of years. Actually, she mentioned you to me before. Said you were instrumental in putting her back in touch with her daughter.’
‘I did what I could. Other people did the hard graft.’ Bliss grunted the last word as her fingers found a tender spot. In truth, he was enjoying the sensation a lot more than he would ever admit to Chandler afterwards. Outside of work, he hated to accept her good ideas, but this had been one of her better efforts. The pain provoked by massaging sore muscles quickly evaporated, the restorative natural chemicals released into his bloodstream helping along the stretching and softening of fibre and tissue.
By the time Trish had finished with his calves, Bliss was becoming drowsy. Yet at the same time he felt exhilarated, soothed by the skilful masseuse. He knew he was experiencing a mild case of euphoria, and it felt wonderful. He owed Chandler a drink.
‘Okay,’ Trish said eventually, walking around to the head of the table. ‘If you can just turn yourself over and lie still for a few minutes, I’ll prepare the oils for the next stage.’
Bliss didn’t want to move, but started easing his body up from its prone position. ‘Fair enough. What is the next stage?’
She smiled at him and gave a slow wink. ‘It’s okay, Inspector. There’s no need to say the actual words. I’ve seen enough police officers in my time to know you won’t. But, hey, nobody comes here for just a massage. You relax. I’ll finish you off nice and slowly.’
Bliss’s eyes sprang wide open. Something raspy started buzzing in his ears. Did she mean what he thought she meant? If she did, he had to put a stop to it. But if she didn’t, how insulted would she be? Her being Chandler’s friend only added to the pressure.
‘When you say… finish me off… what does that entail, Trish?’ He winced at the feeble uncertainty he could hear in his voice.
‘Oh, you want details, do you? Well, it’s down to you. It’s a freebie because of what you did to help Penny. But just because it’s free doesn’t mean it has to be a quickie. If all you want is a happy ending, I can give you that – but if you want more, I’m game.’
Bliss pulled himself up onto his forearms. He swivelled himself around until he was sitting on the padded table, thankful for the towel bunched up around his waist. He kept his head down, desperate not to meet the woman’s eyes. ‘Thank you so much for the massage,’ he said. ‘You were excellent, and I feel great. But I think we can leave it there.’
‘Oh, come on. There’s no need to be shy, Inspector. As I mentioned, you wouldn’t be the first policeman I’ve pleasured.’
He groaned and began levering himself off the table to his feet. Which was the exact moment the door flew open behind him. ‘Detective Sergeant Bliss!’ a female voice said. ‘What on earth is going on here? This is a room for legitimate massage therapy, not a knocking shop!’
Bliss turned to look back over his shoulder. ‘You bloody monster!’ he cried. ‘I’ll pay you back for this, Penny Chandler. You see if I don’t.’
She was already cracking up. ‘You should see your face. I wish I had a mirror – better still, a camera. Hold on, let me get my phone out.’
‘Don’t you dare. You’ve done me up like a kipper, you rotten cowbag. What if I’d gone through with it?’
Convulsed with laughter, Chandler pulled both hands to her stomach. Beside her, Trish was doubled up, laughing so hard she appeared to be in pain. The pair were unable to say or do anything else for a full minute. By the time they got their breath back, both complained of needing to pee.
By that time, Bliss had closed his eyes and put his head in his hands. He’d been entirely had – set up by Chandler in a way he’d never dreamed possible. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. But one thing he knew for sure: he would never, ever live this moment down.
Thirty-Six
The voicemail message he’d received from Edward Barr interested Bliss enormously. Teddy had followed George Moss from the Yard of Ale pub as planned. The man started walking towards the railway bridge, but had then nipped down an alleyway between a shop and a house. Wary of being caught out a second time, Barr had hung back, emerging onto the street at the far end in time to see his quarry disappear into the cream and grey housing block on the other side of the road. As he’d walked slowly along by the garages opposite, he spotted Moss appearing from a staircase doorway. The man headed along the external landing and eventually used a key to open the third door on the right.
Subsequent investigation revealed the flat’s tenant was one Christine Bell. Further searches listed Bell and Moss as having been foster children in the same local authority home. The information had taken a fair bit of digging out, Barr claimed – more spadework than the police would have been willing to do in their casual searches for a man whose reputation suggested only mild – if frequent – form.
Following a swift pint with Chandler and Trish, during which time he took the sly digs and occasional renewed howls of laughter with good grace, Bliss called Barr as he climbed into his car. ‘I got your message. You still on him, Teddy?’ he asked.
‘I hung around for a few minutes, but started sticking out. I didn’t want to risk blowing it. I
