Page 90 of The Last Love Song
‘No. I never met her. Obviously,’ she added.
‘But you think they were seeing each other again recently?’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure of it.’
‘I’m surprised, then, that we haven’t heard from her. Mind you, we’ve only just released the story to the media. Perhaps we’ll hear something soon.’
‘If it’s any help, Tony did mention something about her going away for a few days. Maybe she’s not back yet.’
‘Maybe.’ DI Garratt’s piercing gaze rested on Helen once more. ‘So, there was no animosity between you and Mr Bryant at the end of the affair?’
‘No. I knew how things were from the beginning. I accepted the situation. I had no choice.’
Garratt ran his tongue around his mouth in contemplation. ‘Miss McCarthy, were you in love with Mr Bryant?’
Helen looked down at her hands resting on the table. ‘Yes. I suppose I was. He was so very kind to me when I needed a friend.’ She looked up directly at Garratt. ‘He was the first person who had made me feel special.’
‘Hmm. So, on the Thursday night of your visit to his flat, he was meant to be meeting you somewhere?’
‘Yes. We’d arranged a dinner – a celebration at Kettner’s. Tony didn’t arrive so I went to look for him. I still can’t believe it. Who on earth would want to murder him?’
‘That’s what I intend to find out.’ Garratt slapped his thighs. ‘Well, thank you for answering my questions. I’ll leave you my telephone number, and if you think of anything that might be relevant, please contact me immediately.’
Helen swallowed hard. ‘Of course.’
Garratt stood up, his head almost touching the low ceiling. Helen tried to stand but her legs had turned to jelly.
‘Don’t get up. Goodbye, Miss McCarthy.’
‘Goodbye, Detective Inspector Garratt.’
He nodded and left her office. Helen sat staring into space, her whole body numb.
‘Tony, Tony, why?’ she questioned to the empty air.
Eventually, Helen reached for her handbag and staggered to her feet. She walked slowly across the carpet to her office door, then made her way down the stairs to reception.
‘I...I’m going out for the afternoon,’ Helen told the receptionist. ‘I won’t be back.’
‘Okay, Helen. Are you all right? You look ever such a funny colour.’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks, Jilly.’
Helen opened the door and walked along the street. She turned into the nearest bar and ordered a double whiskey. Once she had downed that and her head had cleared a little, Helen left the bar and walked swiftly to the nearest off-licence. Five minutes later, hugging a full bottle of scotch to her breast, she hailed a taxi and headed for home.
28
‘So, Jukebox Jurors, take a listen to this. It’s the debut single by The Fishermen. It’s called “Can Someone Tell Me Where She’s Gone?” and it’s out for Christmas. Let’s hear it.’
Seven pairs of eyes stared nervously at the television screen as the sound of the new single came flooding through the small speaker.
‘Remember, lads, if they trash it, it doesn’t matter. There’ve been several huge number-one hits that have been voted a miss by the panel.’
Freddy’s words comforted no one in the room. Con held tightly to Sorcha’s hand. Lulu sat on Todd’s knee, her arms wound round his neck. Derek’s hand shook as he reached for his beer and there was even a trace of tension apparent on Ian’s face. They sat in silence as the record played.
‘No doubt about it, lads, whatever they say, it’s a bloody good song,’ murmured Freddy as the last strains disappeared and the camera swung back to David Jacobs.
‘Okay. There we are, panel. “Can Someone Tell Me Where She’s Gone?”, the debut single by The Fishermen. So, Jody, let’s hear what you have to say.’
