Read Online Good Girls Don't Die by Isabelle Grey - Free Book Online

Rachel’s law lecturers was Matt Beeston.’ She didn’t need to spell out the connection to Polly Sinclair. ‘She was in his seminar group.’
    ‘Find out where he was last night,’ Keith ordered. He turned to Duncan. ‘See if he ever bought a bottle of Fire’n’Ice.’
    ‘There’s no record of any formal complaint against him from a student,’ Grace continued. ‘But it seemed to us like the university authorities were going to a lot of trouble to spell that out to us.’
    ‘Well, that’s only to be expected, isn’t it?’ asked Keith, frowning impatiently.
    Grace feared she was wasting his time: it wasn’t enough to say she’d had a strong feeling there was something Ms Johnson and the dean weren’t saying, especially when it might not even be about Dr Beeston. ‘Sure,’ she said, letting it go.
    ‘There’s one more angle to look at,’ Lance jumped in. ‘Polly and Rachel had the same landlord.’
    ‘Pawel Zawodny?’ exclaimed Keith.
    ‘He owns three properties in Wivenhoe, and two are rented out to dead or missing girls!’
    ‘OK. See if you can place him in town last night.’
    ‘That’s not all,’ Lance went on. ‘The university Accommodation Office told me that two past tenants made unsubstantiated complaints against him. Accused him of creepy, vaguely stalking behaviour.’
    ‘What about the night Polly disappeared?’ asked Keith. ‘Was he in town then?’
    ‘We still don’t know,’ admitted Lance. ‘He says he was alone at home, but we’ve no corroboration.’
    ‘Well, keep working on it,’ ordered Keith. ‘You and Grace go talk to Rachel’s housemates.’
    ‘So we are making the link between Rachel and Polly, then, boss?’ Lance asked, braving the hush that immediately fell over the crowded room.
    ‘I think we have to, yes,’ Keith answered curtly. ‘But only in this room, and most definitely not in front of Polly’s parents.’
    As Keith retreated to his own office, Lance punched the air and turned to Grace with a grin. ‘Voyeur who’s well organised and precise. And Fire’n’Ice is a Polish import. You wait and see!’
    Grace returned his smile and touched his arm lightly. ‘I’ll be ready in a moment. Just need a quick word with the super.’
    She knocked on Keith’s door and went in without waiting for permission, closing it behind her.
    ‘Sir, I need to tell you something.’ She realised that, unconsciously, she’d clasped her hands behind her back and was standing with feet parallel and apart, as if she were a trainee on parade. She swallowed and unclasped her hands. ‘I was at the Blue Bar last night.’
    Keith raised his eyebrows, clearly both surprised and annoyed. ‘There’s no room in this team for anyone who thinks they can fly better solo, DS Fisher.’
    ‘No, sir. That’s not why I was there.’
    ‘So what were you doing?’
    ‘I met a friend for a drink. It was her suggestion that we meet there.’
    ‘Who’s the friend?’
    Grace hung her head. ‘Roxanne Carson.’
    She expected anger – he’d have every right – and tasted a familiar bitterness at the back of her mouth as she waited for the inevitable rejection and disbelief.
    Keith regarded her steadily. ‘She was also at the crime scene at six o’clock this morning.’
    ‘Not through me, sir, I promise.’
    ‘You knew her at university, right?’
    ‘Yes. We’d lost touch but Hilary gave me her number.’
    He gave her a long, hard look, then sighed. ‘OK. But I want all future contact with her logged. You can go.’
    ‘Sir?’ Grace stood her ground. ‘I noticed a group of young men near the High Street. It was late and they were drinking and joshing some girls. They looked liked they might be paras. Should we check them out?’
    Keith nodded, a glint of amusement in his eye. ‘Knockyourself out,’ he said. ‘The army is seldom keen on having to answer to outsiders, and there are two or three thousand soldiers in Colchester. Even if you wait until you’ve a more