The Silent Suspect Nell Pattison (best classic books of all time TXT) 📖

Mariusz with the gang of lads, and I could see her thinking as she took it all in.

That does seem very strange. I wonder if it’s his way of acting out following Nadia’s death? I know they had a good relationship. Well, I’ll see if I can get hold of Lukas and see him tomorrow, check up on him. Did they say where he’s staying?

No, a friend came to pick him up, they said, I told her. That’s all I know.

Okay, I’ll see what I can find out. Thanks for letting me know.

Sasha? I asked. If you go to see him tomorrow, do you mind if I come too?

She nodded to show she understood. Of course. I’ll call you once I’ve got hold of him.

I thanked her and we both hung up. I knew that Singh had told me to back off, but all I was going to do was see that Lukas was okay. After that, I’d leave it to the police, I told myself, though I wasn’t very convincing.

Ninety minutes before the fire

Lukas rounded the corner on his way to the pub, when he saw someone crossing the road towards him. He looked over his shoulder to check there was nobody around who he recognised.

What are you doing here? he asked the woman as she came close to him, slipping her arm through his.

I wanted to see you, she replied, leaning up to kiss him. He shied away, checking around him again.

Not here.

She looked annoyed but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to risk Nadia finding out about them, especially when they’d just had a conversation about starting a family. Anyway, this was just a fling, nothing serious.

There was a small alleyway ahead of them on the left, so he pulled her in there, out of sight of the road and the curtain-twitching of the local residents. Just because he didn’t know anyone who lived on that street didn’t mean it couldn’t get back to Nadia.

She reached up to kiss him again and this time he didn’t resist her, enjoying the sensation of her body pressed against his for a few moments. Why did he do this? He loved Nadia with all his heart, and he desperately tried to be faithful, but he couldn’t resist women. Women, of all shapes and sizes, skin colours and ages, were beautiful creatures, and he wanted to please them. When a woman showed interest in him, he knew he should tell them no, he was married, but they were so enticing.

This has to stop, he told her, once he’d pulled away. I can’t do this any more.

Don’t you want this? she asked, pouting.

I want you, but I love my wife. I want to be faithful to her.

With a frown, she stepped back. What do you mean?

I mean what I said. It has to stop. I can’t see you any more.

He saw her eyes narrow and wondered if he’d made a mistake. She had the power to make his life incredibly difficult if he made her mad.

Where has this come from? You didn’t seem to object to being with me just a few days ago, she said. He flushed as he remembered that afternoon, hot and sweaty in her bed. She’d had more energy than he had expected and he could barely keep up.

The memory made his resolve waver, and she could see it in his eyes. With a smirk, she stepped closer again and pressed her lips to his neck, her hand reaching for his belt buckle. Before she could slip her hand inside his jeans, however, he grabbed her by the wrist and shook his head.

No.

What’s wrong? Too risky for you? Her grin told him that she didn’t care.

No, I meant what I said, he told her. I love my wife. I can’t see you any more.

Her anger was quick to spark, and she slapped him across the face.

Fuck you, then.

He pressed a hand to his stinging cheek as he watched her march away, turning back to sign to him.

You’re going to regret this.

Chapter 27

Tuesday 23rd April

Sasha had texted me the address to meet her and Lukas at the following morning, in an area of Scunthorpe I hadn’t been to very often. I used Google maps to navigate my way there, passing Silica Country Park and turning off into an area that any respectable estate agent would describe as ‘set in woodland’. Trees lined the streets, providing privacy to the large houses that were well spaced out along my route.

I turned into a cul-de-sac and found the right number, quietly impressed at the imposing gateposts at the end of the drive. The gate itself was wrought iron – fancy enough to suggest that the homeowner could afford nice things, and strong enough to serve a purpose. It swung open as I approached, and I drove a little way towards the house before parking my car behind Sasha’s. The drive itself swept round a neatly tended front lawn, which had a silver birch in the far corner, and had space for at least half a dozen cars. The tree must have been at least twenty metres tall and the top branches were swaying constantly in the breeze.

Sasha was getting out of her car as I parked, and together we looked up at the house. Judging by the number of windows, and the length of the house, it must have had at least six bedrooms and a large amount of living space on the ground floor. I took a couple of steps to the side and peered round the back, but there was another gate and a couple of trees blocking my view.

Whose house is this? I asked Sasha, feeling seriously envious. When she’d messaged me the night before, she hadn’t told me which friend Lukas was staying with. For a moment I had a heart-stopping thought – what if it was Roy Chapman? If it was Roy who sent the man to threaten me the other night,