Trespass (P.I. Johnson Carmichael Series - Book 2) (23 page)

James Benold sat at the bar, a bottle of wine in an ice bucket nearby. It was too early to start hitting on any potential candidates, but that wouldn’t stop him shooting admiring glances at any of the women who happened to walk by. He had set up a bar tab, as he was planning on eating here tonight. The Specials board said that the grilled lobster was exquisite. He poured a glass from the nicely chilled bottle and raised the glass upwards, offering a small toast to his recently deceased wife.

He couldn’t believe the weight that had been lifted from his shoulders. Suddenly there was no mortgage to pay, no responsibility, aside from the two boys, but boarding school would take care of them. He could happily go out and sew his seed with no repercussions. There was no longer anybody who could upset his cosy little life. All he needed to do was find someone who might be enticed into his darkest desires.

A tall woman with a shock of long auburn hair approached the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. She must have been in her early forties, judging by the way she held herself, but her face looked almost wrinkle-free. She was not usually what he went for, but a chill went down his spine when he imagined her bound up, begging him to fuck her. He made eye contact and she smiled coyly back at him. He lifted his glass to toast her and she blushed slightly as she glanced away.

Playing hard to get are you
?

‘Good evening,’ he offered, as the barman placed her drink on the bar.

‘Good evening.’

‘Are you here alone tonight?’

‘I’m meeting someone,’ she said. ‘You’re not
Jones568
, are you?’

Oh God, she’s a bloody internet-dater
!

There was one thing he could not stand: women who signed up to internet dating sites, because they were too shy or boring, or a combination of the two, to strike up a conversation with a stranger in a bar.

‘Alas I’m not,’ he said, turning away slightly, suddenly bored of the pursuit.

‘Oh, well…have a nice night,’ she said, before moving away to find a table.

Stick to what you know
, he told himself.

He was just reaching the end of his second glass when he saw her. Dressed in a floral mini dress, stilettos and her blonde hair in a ponytail. She must have been in early thirties and by the look of it, she was out with a chubby girlfriend. Just two girls out for a quiet drink, yet something about the way the blonde was dressed, suggested she wouldn’t be averse to a bit of fun. He called the barman over and asked him to send a bottle of rosé wine to their table, and to add it to his tab. He sat back and watched the barman carry a bucket and two glasses over to the table. He saw him whisper where the drinks had come from, and watched for their reaction. If they declined it, he knew he was out of luck.

The barman placed the bucket on their table and began to pour the wine into the glasses. Both women shot him glances. The chubby friend seemed wary, but the blonde smiled warmly and mouthed ‘thank you’ in his direction.

Jackpot
!

The barman returned and told him that the two ladies wished to accept his wine, and wondered if he would care to join them at their table. He made his way over, placing his suit jacket over the chair closest to the blonde.

‘I’m James,’ he said, extending his hand.

‘I’m Audrey,’ the blonde replied, placing her hand in his. He lifted it and planted a small kiss on her knuckle.

‘Enchanté.’

She giggled coyly and invited him to sit. The chubby friend coughed awkwardly.

‘This is my friend Maggie.’

Benold nodded in her direction, but his glance quickly returned to the blonde.

‘You ladies out for a catch up or are you prowling for men to snare in your net?’ he asked.

Audrey shrugged her shoulders playfully, ‘Maybe a little of both. What brings you to this bar so early on a Sunday?’

‘I am in need of sustenance,’ he declared. ‘I haven’t had a decent meal in good company for far too long. If only I could find someone pleasant to dine with…’ he added with a smile.

‘Alas, we’ve already eaten…but that doesn’t mean we would be offended if
you
ate.’

Maggie shot her friend a look of disdain:
always the same
! Maggie was fed up of agreeing to meet with Audrey, only for her friend to wind up going off with some guy.

‘We’re only staying for a single drink,’ Maggie reminded her, ‘then we’re moving on.
Remember
?’

Audrey mouthed ‘W.T.F. while Benold was looking away. Maggie glared back at her, before excusing herself to go and powder her nose.

‘Your friend doesn’t seem to approve of me,’ he said, taking a sip of wine.

‘You’ll have to excuse her…I don’t think she’s been laid in at least a year. I’ll have a word with her when she gets back and then maybe you and I can…you know…get to know each other better.’

‘I’d like that…a lot.’

‘Wait a minute, you’re not married are you? The last guy who chatted me up turned out to have a wife hidden away at home. She thought he was on a business trip if you can believe that?’

Benold laughed.

‘I’m widowed,’ he replied sorrowfully, for her benefit.

‘Oh that’s good…sorry…I mean…I’m so sorry to hear that.’

He waved off her faux pas nonchalantly, ‘It’s okay. She passed away some years ago…I’ve just been waiting for the right woman who just gets me. Do you know what I mean?’

She nodded but then looked behind him as a dark shadow fell across the table.

‘Can we help you with something?’ she asked the man who was standing there.

‘James Benold,’ Carmichael’s voice boomed. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

Benold’s eyes closed and his head dropped as he realised who it was.

‘Do you know this man?’ Audrey whispered.

‘Oh yes, Miss,’ Carmichael responded in a loud voice. ‘I am
very
familiar with this man. Isn’t that right, James?’

Benold ignored the question, hopeful that the irritation would disappear.

‘But just how well do you know our mutual friend?’ Carmichael continued, taking Maggie’s vacant seat and sipping from her wine glass. ‘He certainly has shit taste in wine,’ he grimaced. ‘This shit is disgusting! You still being a skinflint, James?’

Benold had had enough and turned to face his nemesis, ‘Just fuck off will you?’ he sneered. ‘Unless you want me to call the police…in fact, what the fuck are you doing out?’ he added as he suddenly realised Carmichael was no longer in custody.

‘What am I doing out?’ Carmichael repeated, louder so that the whole bar could hear. ‘You mean why I am I not being held for the murder of your wife?’

He left the question hanging so that he could be certain he had everybody’s attention.

‘Well it turns out I couldn’t have killed your wife, James, as I had a rock solid alibi! Even stronger than yours apparently. Excuse me, Miss, what is your name?’

‘Audrey,’ she whispered, suddenly unnerved about who she had been chatting to for the last five minutes.

‘Well, Audrey, just how long have you known your date?’

‘We just met,’ she said, blushing.

‘You just met? Lucky for you, I sense. Did
he
tell you that somebody murdered his wife yesterday? In their marital home? You’d expect a
normal
person to be upset by that, but not our friend here, no. He is out wining and dining the first bimbo he can find; no offence intended. What does that tell you about him?’

The sound of silence in the bar was obvious as everyone followed the conversation.

‘Did
he
tell you that he enjoys S&M as well? That’s right, isn’t it James? You like to bind your women up, don’t you? You like to whip them. It turns you on, doesn’t it?’

‘Shut the fuck up!’ Benold demanded in a loud whisper. ‘If you want to talk, we should take this outside.’

‘If I want to talk?’ Carmichael bellowed. ‘Talk about what? The fact that you strangled your wife yesterday morning and then ransacked your house, so it would look like a burglary gone wrong? We
could
talk about that, I suppose. We
could
talk about how you seduced Lauren Roper before raping and killing her. Or, we
could
talk about the fact that you broke into my office yesterday morning and destroyed my computers and made a mess. You want to discuss that in more detail?’

The barman was getting nervous about how this very public conversation was going to end. He was considering phoning the police when Benold stood up and stormed from the bar. The big black man followed on his tail.

‘You’ve got no right to harass me like this,’ Benold shouted when the two men were outside.

‘You had no right to frame me for Frankie’s death.’

‘How was she? Hmm? A good fuck?’

‘You really are a low-life,’ Carmichael said, shaking his head.

‘No I’m not, I’m just a man who doesn’t bother with other people’s shit. Yeah, so what if I like to fuck other women. Why is that any of your business? So what if I like to indulge in a bit of S&M? That’s nobody’s business but my own! You should try it some time, you know? You might even enjoy yourself!’

Carmichael could not believe his audacity.

‘Why did you kill Frankie? Huh? If you didn’t love her anymore, why not just grant her the divorce? It makes no sense.’

‘Oh God, don’t tell me you were in love with her! You think she saw you as anything more than a quick fuck? She just wanted to get her own back on me and you were a willing participant. Was it good? I bet you couldn’t resist banging her, could you?’

‘Fuck you!’

‘No, fuck you, Carmichael! You’re no better than I am. So I cheated on my wife; you slept with a married woman! We are both guilty of adultery!’

‘I made a mistake; your act was malicious and you did it over and over again and then you killed her.’

Benold laughed. ‘There’s nothing you can do about it. As far as the police are concerned, I have an alibi: I was at the gym when she died.’

‘We both know that is bullshit. I saw you there.’

‘It’s your word against mine, Carmichael!’

‘What about Lauren Roper? Did you kill her too?’

Benold frowned, ‘I don’t know who that is.’

‘She is the woman you saw running from my office crying on Friday.’

‘Her?’ Benold exclaimed, remembering the exchange at the office.

‘Someone tied her up, beat, raped and killed her on Friday afternoon. Where were you?’

‘You can fuck off if you think I had anything to do with that!’

‘Really? You killed Frankie, why not Lauren too?’

‘I didn’t know the woman! I may be many things, Carmichael, but I’m no killer.’

‘What about Frankie? You killed her in cold blood.’

‘That was different!’

‘So you admit you killed her?’

Benold considered him for a moment, ‘Yes.’ The smile returned, ‘It’s a pity you’re the only one who knows the truth.’

‘I’ve already told the police you did it. They’ll be confiscating your computer soon and then they’ll see your internet history.’

‘That won’t prove anything. So what if I like looking at
S & M
sites? That proves nothing.’

‘It gives you a credible motive. You were witnessed on the premises by me, which gives you opportunity too.’

‘But it’s your word against mine.’

‘They’ll believe me.’

‘You? I don’t think so.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong, you see. The difference between you and me is that when I want to fit somebody up, I do it right. See, I’m experienced at it. How do you think I used to get rock-solid cases when I was a copper? You think all that evidence just presented itself?’

‘What are you saying?’ Benold asked, his tone suddenly not so confident.

‘I’m saying I will give the police exactly what they need to link you to the crime. I’ll find a witness to declare they saw you entering the property when you should have been at the gym. I’ll forge an email from you to me offering a bribe for keeping quiet. I’ll put together such a puzzle of evidence that the Magistrate won’t even grant you bail!’

‘You can’t; you wouldn’t!’

‘Oh no? Just watch me!’

‘Why? Why ruin things for me?’

‘Because you’re scum! Because you deserve it! Because you thought you could get away with it! Because I don’t like you!’

‘I’ll deny everything!’

‘Go ahead. It won’t make a difference. You can deny it all and still be convicted of murder. Or…’

‘Or what?’

‘Or, you can go to the station now and confess everything. In my experience the courts tend to be more lenient with defendants who plead guilty to their charges. If you’re lucky, you might only get fourteen years.’