Take Two (A psychological thriller)

‘That’s easy enough to find out,’ said Terry. ‘You just call his number. If he answers, he’s the killer.’

‘That’s what you think? That whoever got hit, died?’

‘If there was as much blood as you said there was, it sounds like it. Plus the missing rug suggests they took away a body.  You know, now’s the time we should call the police.’

‘And say what? I saw a crime while I was trespassing?’

‘What’s the alternative, pretend that it never happened?’

Carolyn waved the phone bill at him. ‘Let’s see who this Nicholas Cohen is, shall we? If he’s still alive then I need to get a look at him. If he’s the guy who I saw, then okay maybe we can go to the cops and they can arrest him. But if he’s the victim, then we need to think it through.’

‘Think what through?’

‘If I go to the cops, all I’ll have is a description of the killer. And if that gets out, then I won’t know who the killer is but the killer will know who I am and I don’t think I can live with that, Terry. I’ll be looking over my shoulder until they arrest the guy.  I’m the only witness, so if he’s killed once he’s not going to worry about doing it a second time, is he?’

‘Darling, I think you’re over-thinking it.’ He grinned. ‘But playing detective is good fun, so let’s give it a go. We can be like Dempsey and Makepeace.’

‘Now you’re really showing your age,’ laughed Carolyn. ‘That was thirty years ago.’

‘I watch the reruns on ITV3,’ said Terry. ‘Michael Brandon was fit back then.’

‘He’s still fit,’ said Carolyn. ‘He was in Hustle a few years back. And New Tricks.’

‘And Glynis just keeps on working. She did Emmerdale, EastEnders and The Royal.’

‘Bitch,’ laughed Terry.

‘Bloody right,’ said Carolyn. She laughed. ‘Actually that’s not fair, she’s a sweetie. But I wish I had her agent.’

CHAPTER 24

Terry drove back to his house and parked in the car park at the rear of the building. They went inside and up the stairs to the living area. ‘Wine?’ asked Terry.

‘I don’t see why not,’ said Carolyn, taking off her jacket and dropping down onto a sofa.

‘Red, white, pink?’

‘Surprise me,’ she said. She studied the phone bill that Terry had taken.  Nicholas Cohen used the phone a lot, dozens of time a day. Most of the calls were to other mobiles but there was one landline number in central London. She reached for Terry’s phone and began to tap out the number. An answering machine picked up. It was a firm of chartered accountants. Cohen and Kawczynski.

She was putting the phone back when Terry returned with a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses.  ‘Cohen’s an accountant,’ she said.

‘Nice,’ said Terry.

‘I’ll try calling his mobile.’

Terry put the wine and glasses on the coffee table, next to Carolyn’s award. ‘Do me a favour, darling, and don’t use my phone.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘Because if Mr Cohen is dead, I don’t want the cops asking why I was calling him. And if he’s a murderer I don’t want him having my number. I’ve got a pay-as-you go mobile, you can use that.’

He went over to a low sideboard, opened a drawer and took out an old Nokia phone. He saw the look of confusion on Carolyn’s face and he grinned.  ‘I did a bit of online dating before I met Gabe and I didn’t want to have my number out there. I was changing Sim cards every week or so.’

‘You slut,’ said Carolyn.

He tossed her the phone and she tapped out the number of Cohen’s mobile as Terry opened the wine. It went straight to voicemail and she put the phone down on the sofa. Terry sat down next to her and poured wine into the glasses. ‘We’re going to have to phone the police,’ he said. ‘The longer we leave it, the angrier the cops are going to be.’

‘We don’t know he’s dead,’ said Carolyn. ‘For all we know they took him to hospital.’

‘Darling, they shot at you, you said.’

‘I heard a bang.’ She sipped her wine and shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Terry, it’s starting to feel a bit fuzzy.’

‘What?’

‘I’d been drinking. A lot. It was dark.’

‘Are you telling me you might have imagined it. Because last night you were scared shitless. Remember?’

‘I remember. But in the cold light of day it all seems a bit…remote.’

‘Remote?’

Carolyn sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Darling, we drove all the way to the arse end of nowhere and I proceeded to do a spot of breaking and entering, and now you’re telling me you made the whole thing up?’

‘I’m not saying that,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want to call the police and have the whole thing blow up in my face. What say we call Cohen’s office on Monday and see if he’s in?’

‘You said you saw him belted with a statue. That’s what you said. And there was blood, by the window.’

Carolyn nodded. ‘I know, I know. But can we just leave it until Monday, please?’

‘If that’s what you want, sure. But whether he’s in the office on Monday or not, we’re no further forward, are we? If he is there that suggests he’s the guy who did the hitting. And if he’s not…’  He left the sentence unfinished.

‘Then he’s dead,’ said Carolyn.

Terry nodded. ‘Either way we’re going to have to call the police.’