Cherringham~Trail of Lies by Matthew Costello

Author:Matthew Costello [Costello, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-3-7325-5309-9
Publisher: Bastei Entertainment
Published: 2018-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

9. Callum

Jack sat in the back office of Bulstrode’s Auto Repairs, looking into the repair shop where guys in overalls busied themselves around half-a-dozen cars in different bays.

Nice and quiet in here but, out there, a clamour of activity.

Usually he came up here to get the Sprite serviced. Ted Bulstrode was always trying to get him to trade it in for something bigger, showing him round the models for sale.

But the Sprite — though a squeeze — was still the perfect car for these narrow Cotswolds lanes. And she had speed when he needed it.

He watched Ted go over to a couple of guys working on a car up on a ramp.

The guys stopped working, looked over at Jack behind the glass.

Bit of a discussion back and forth with Ted. But Ted — the boss — making the deal clear.

Then, one of the guys — tall, razor cut, thick neck from working out Jack guessed — shook his head, put down his wrench, wiped his hands on a cloth and headed over.

Jack sat back in the office chair.

The door opened — a blast of music from the workshop as the guy entered — then silence again as he shut the door behind him.

“Ted says I’ve got to talk to you,” said the guy, still standing.

“Callum Foley, yes?” said Jack.

“You a cop?”

“No. Friend of Mr and Mrs Roberts.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Amy’s parents.”

“Oh … yeah. That girl that got drowned. What’s that got to do with me?”

Jack gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Why don’t you sit down, Callum?”

But Callum stayed standing.

“I’m in the middle of a job. And I’m only here ’cos the boss told me I had to. So, I’m not stopping till you tell me why I’m in here, wasting my time.”

Jack sat back in his chair.

“Oh — that’s the easy part, Callum. You’re here because you’re going to tell me why you sent Amy Roberts five texts the night she died. Why you called her just half-an-hour before she disappeared. Half-an-hour, Callum my friend. And why you — as far as I can see — are the last person to have any contact with her before she drowned?”

Jack saw this sink in. Callum’s face revealing nothing.

Not the first time this guy’s stood in front of a cop, he thought.

So he added, just to raise the stakes a tad, “In fact, where exactly were you the night she died?”

Callum’s eyes narrowed.

“What the hell — you trying to—”

“And don’t you dare give me any of that ‘Amy who?’ BS — capiche? Or we might have to go straight down the street to the police station and let them continue this conversation.”

Jack watched Callum shake his head and scratch his cheek for a second. Then he stepped forward, dragged the chair out with a bang, and slumped onto it, legs splayed.

“All right,” he said. “So, I did bloody know Amy. So—what?”

“How well?”

“Well enough,” said Callum, his stare challenging, tone now sly. “Know what I mean?”

“I thought you and Jasmine were an item?”

A smirk.

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