Till Death Do Us Part. Stephen Edger

was through the gates before closing them once more with the remote control.

      He turned to Alice and whispered, ‘Why don’t you head inside, and leave me to deal with whoever this is?’

      Alice pulled her handbag over her shoulder like a sash. ‘We’ll do this together. We’ll show them we’re united.’

      The two plainclothes detectives exited the blue car, lifting their identification into the air.

      The woman spoke first. ‘Ben Goodman? I’m DC Vanessa Hazelton, and this is my colleague, DC Wayne McTeal.’

      ‘What do you want?’ Ben asked defiantly. ‘I told you lot everything I know. I didn’t kill that poor girl.’

      ‘We’re not here to arrest you, Mr Goodman,’ Hazelton replied. ‘I believe DI Vernon would have informed you we need to collect the clothes you were wearing on Saturday night? That’s what we’re here to do.’

      Hazelton had a quiet voice, but there was a determination in the tone that suggested she was used to getting what she wanted. A pretty face, her brown hair was cut short, giving her an androgynous look. If it weren’t for the two bulges in her pink blouse, it would be easy to mistake her for a teenager.

      Alice followed Ben and the detectives through the front door. The high ceiling in the grand hall kept the room light and airy, but as they moved through to the kitchen, the sun’s rays on the large bifold doors meant the room was obnoxiously warm and stuffy. It had been three days since Alice was here last. Stepping to the panel on the wall, she adjusted the temperature on the thermostat and welcomed the cool rush of air as the ceiling fans kicked in.

      Hazelton had followed Alice into the kitchen while Ben had taken McTeal upstairs.

      ‘Once we have the clothes bagged up, we’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your weekend,’ Hazelton offered with an empathetic smile. ‘I assume Ben has told you why we took him to the station yesterday?’

      ‘Of course. We don’t keep secrets.’

      Hazelton’s face remained passive.

      ‘He didn’t do it, you know,’ Alice suddenly blurted. ‘He told me he didn’t and I believe him.’

      ‘I’m in no position to disagree, Mrs Goodman.’

      The comment threw Alice. ‘You don’t think he did it either?’

      ‘I’m not paid to have an opinion. I just follow the evidence. With all due respect, Mrs Goodman, a young woman has been brutally murdered. Whomever was responsible is still out there, somewhere on the streets evading justice. He – or she – needs to be brought to justice, and before they do it again. Our only priority is finding this individual. Imagine if she was your best friend: wouldn’t you want us to do everything in our power to find her killer?’

      Alice sipped her water but remained quiet.

      Hazelton moved across to the bifold doors, staring out. ‘You have a beautiful garden. How far back does it stretch? Sixty feet?’

      ‘Something like that,’ Alice sighed.

      ‘Is this your own work or do you have a gardener?’ Hazelton continued, pointing at the raised flowerbed that ran the length of the lawn on the left side.

      ‘A gardener tends to it once a week. I’m not green-fingered.’

      ‘Nor me,’ Hazelton smiled. ‘I live in a third-storey flat, and whenever my mum brings over a houseplant, it never lasts more than a month. Sometimes I don’t know why she bothers.’

      ‘Are you from Southampton?’

      ‘No, I’m based in Bournemouth, but the inquiry is being led by the Major Crimes Team here in Southampton, so a small group of us are here supporting.’ She paused. ‘It isn’t my place to say, but I’m sorry that the arrest was so public. Ordinarily, someone would have had a quiet word and been more discreet; I don’t know why DI Vernon made such a big fuss.’

      Ben appeared in the kitchen, McTeal following behind, holding a large sealed bag and wearing blue protective gloves.

      ‘Did you get it?’ Hazelton asked him.

      McTeal lifted the bag and nodded.

      ‘You won’t find anything on the clothes as they’ve been cleaned,’ Ben warned. ‘If I’d known I would need to prove my innocence, I would have left them unwashed.’

      Hazelton approached him, meeting his stare. ‘That’s all right, Mr Goodman, you’d be surprised at how difficult it is to remove the telltale signs of blood. We’ll have our forensic specialists review the clothing and let you know the results. Of course, these could be key to ruling you out of our investigation. Let’s hope so, hey?’

      ‘They will,’ Ben replied curtly, before following them back to the front door and showing them out.

       FOURTEEN

      A long soak in the bathtub was exactly what Alice needed. Something DC Hazelton had said had stuck with her: what if it was her best friend who’d been brutally murdered? Wouldn’t she give anything to see the killer caught and punished? Would she really care how many innocent people were arrested along the way?

      Ben had said he would phone the holiday and travel insurance companies and explain the situation, to see if anything could be done to reclaim any of the payment they’d made, but he hadn’t sounded hopeful as he’d reached for the phone.

      As the temperature of the water cooled, Alice climbed out of the tub and returned to the bedroom, drying herself with a towel before dressing. Their bedroom faced out to the garden, but she’d closed the curtains when the bath had been filling. Heading to their shared wardrobe, she pulled out a fresh summer dress to wear, thinking they would just order takeaway from the local Chinese restaurant for dinner. They should have been at the airport getting ready to check-in now, and she wasn’t sure what food was in the house. Spotting Ben outside on the decking with a bottle of beer in his hand, she saw Dave nursing a bottle in a chair to his right.

      ‘Dave’s just come from the police station,’ Ben explained, as Alice joined them outside in the warmth. ‘Tell her what you told me.’

      Dave put the bottle to his lips and took a long swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘The solicitor reckons they’re clutching at straws. They pulled Ben in on account of the DNA, but had it not been there they’d be clueless. They’ve put some hotshot detective inspector in charge; he’s the one who made the arrest. I overheard one of them say he’s made some promise to his boss that he’ll nail the killer within forty-eight hours, but they’re nowhere near.’

      Alice still wasn’t happy that Ben’s DNA had been so readily available to the detective in charge, and she still didn’t really know what he’d been charged with the first time around. It wasn’t fair to put Dave in the awkward position of hearing her ask Ben now, but she would demand the truth as soon as Dave was gone.

      ‘I told them where the bar was, and how Abdul had arranged for us to be there,’ Dave continued. ‘Gave them the names of all those who were there and a detailed timeline of what we did and when. They’re planning to scour the area for signs of blood or a struggle or something. They’re hoping the incident might have been captured on CCTV, but I told them I don’t remember seeing much in the way of cameras where we were.’

      ‘I don’t understand why they can’t return Ben’s passport,’ Alice said.

      ‘I guess they have to rule him out completely before they can give it back. I only stopped by to see if there’s anything the two of you need,’ Dave said. ‘You know I’m there for you – both of you – and if there’s anything you want or need, please just let me know.’

      ‘Cheers, man,’ Ben said, shaking his hand. ‘Appreciate