Chapter 12

Penrose's head felt like it was about to split open and he regretted the decision to raid the minibar once the movie became insufferably boring. He showered and dressed then called the Met to obtain a current address on Stephen Wilson. To his surprise, he was put through to DI Hammond.

"You're working on a Saturday?"

"I gave up a normal life three years ago," he admitted. "I could ask you the same question."

"I spoke to David Hunnicutt last night."

"That must have been a joy for you."

"The bastard's shacked up with some young bit of stuff, almost young enough to be his daughter."

"Welcome to how the other half live. What did he say?"

"Not much but I got the impression that he knows more than he's letting on?"

"Aren't all politicians like that?"

"It's only a gut feel but I think it's more than that. He claimed he was with a business client and I want to check out his alibi."

"Who was it?"

"Somebody called Stephen Wilson."

"I've heard of him. The FSA investigated him last year over some financial irregularities and suspicion of insider trading. Nothing was ever proven."

"Have you got an address for him?"

After a significant pause, Hammond replied.

"I've got his main residence registered in Knightsbridge but he also has property in Scotland and another in Southern France."

Penrose wrote down the London address and promised to report back anything he discovered.

"Tread carefully," Hammond warned, "these are very influential people. If you ruffle their feathers, they're likely to stir up trouble."

"I'll take care," Penrose replied as he hung up.

Angela was sitting in her tiny kitchen drinking coffee when the phone rang. Part of her was disappointed to hear Jim's voice but she listened as he related developments and explained how he would probably be back in Amersham later in the day, depending on his success at locating Wilson.

She related her interview with Pamela's parents, expressing her sorrow that yet another family was suffering the aftermath of a lost child. Her attention was distracted by the doorbell and she continued her conversation while fumbling to unlock the front door. Joanna stood on the step, waiting patiently for admittance.

"I'll call you back later, I've got someone at the door," she told Penrose, beckoning Joanna inside and holding a finger to her lips to indicate silence until Jim had rung off.

"Joanna," she exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you. How did you even know where I live?"

Joanna pulled out her business card that had her home address written in ballpoint pen on the reverse. She'd completely forgotten about handing it to her.

"George has gone out somewhere. I'm supposed to be shopping but I thought I'd come over here first."

Angela smiled then leant closer and kissed her. Joanna reached around her waist and they melted into each other's arms.

"I've just made coffee. Would you like some," Angela offered. Joanna nodded.

With cups in hand, they progressed into the lounge where Angela apologised profusely for the mess. The remnants of the previous night's Chinese takeout remained on the table and Angela rushed to remove them. Joanna helped her by washing her dish and cutlery while Angela deposited the stale leftovers in the outside recycling bin. She returned to the embarrassment of finding Joanna doing all her domestic chores.

"I'm such a lazy slut. You shouldn't have to tidy up after me," Angela confessed.

"I don't mind, really," Joanna replied casually.

Angela put her arms back around her and cupped her breasts through her clothes. The woman sighed euphorically in response. Joanna piled the utensils on the draining board and then returned to the lounge with Angela to finish her drink. Once complete, she lay back on the sofa and placed her head in Angela's lap.

Angela ran her fingers through the woman's hair then slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress, letting it fall open to admire her beauty.

"How long can you stay?"

"As long as you want me to," Joanna replied.

"We have to be careful, at least for the time being."

"Why?"

"I'd get into trouble if they found out. I'm still assigned to your case."

Joanna nodded. "I want to keep seeing you. I love it when we're together."

"I know," Angela sighed, stroking her face.

"I could leave George, move in with you."

"I don't know," Angela replied in shock.

"You don't want me?" Joanna agonised, fearing rejection.

Angela rushed to comfort her. "You took me by surprise, Joanna. I've been thinking about you a lot, but we shouldn't rush into anything hasty."

"You love Jim don't you?" she sniffed sadly.

"Jim and I have been seeing each other for a year but I'm not sure where it's heading. You and George on the other hand, you need to make sure it's what you really want."

"It is," Angela stated forcefully. "I want you more than anything."

"What about Amanda? You need to think about what's best for her."

"Amanda's not coming back," Joanna replied gloomily. "Without her, I'm not sure if there's enough to hold George and me together."

"You don't know that. There's still hope."

"We don't even know if she's still alive."

"You mustn't think that way. Try to be more positive."

Joanna nodded and collapsed against Angela, content to let the woman hold her. Angela's hand settled on her breast and she closed her eyes to savour the contact.

Jim Penrose rode the Underground to Knightsbridge tube station then took a short walk to the address that Hammond had provided. After several minutes of knocking on the front door of the exclusive three storey terraced property, he finally concluded that nobody was at home. He'd just started to walk away when an expensive car pulled up outside. An older woman and what appeared to be her teenaged daughter emerged, retrieving several carrier bags bearing the logo of various up-market fashion houses. A man climbed out of the driver's side, locked the Bentley then joined them.

"I can't wait to see this outfit on you, Olivia," the woman extolled. "All the heads will turn when we take you to La Bohème later on this evening."

Penrose discreetly photographed them on his phone then approached.

"Mister Wilson?"

"Yes." The man turned, looking irritated at the intrusion.

"My name's Jim Penrose. I'm with Amersham CID." Penrose flashed his ID but the man hardly paid it any attention.

"Is this strictly necessary? I'm rather busy."

"I won't take up more than minute of your time."

"How can I help you, Sergeant?"

"I was wondering if you could confirm whether you know David Hunnicutt?"

"David? Yes of course. We've known each other for years."

"When was the last time that you saw and spoke to him?"

"I've been looking to donate to the party election fund. We've spent most of the last two days together."

Penrose watched the two women proceed inside the property, paying particular attention to the daughter. Her luxurious shock of red hair fell half way down her back while her slender figure was hardly contained within the skimpy black dress that stopped well above mid-thigh. Precariously high heels and dark patterned stockings completed the look, the tops of which he could clearly discern together with straps of her garter belt. She turned and flashed him a welcoming smile, her erect nipples poking provocatively through the front of her outfit.