Paparazzi by Jo Fenton (best free e reader .txt) 📕

few weeks ago, down in London, this producer turned up at one of our gigs. We didn’t know he was there until he came up to us at the end and offered us a recording contract. We were made up.” His face sobers. “Then this happened, and I don’t give a shit about the deal anymore. I’d ditch it in a flash if it would bring Linda back.”

On the screen, I see Joanna’s expression soften, and she says, “It’s probably got nothing to do with the record deal, Troy. This might have happened anyway. Can you tell us how you and Linda met?”

“Yeah, it was kind of crazy and romantic. I was twenty when I got appendicitis. Like, sudden and horrible pain, although afterwards I realised I’d been feeling a bit dodgy for a few days. But anyway, I doubled over in rehearsal and the boys got an ambulance. I don’t remember much else until I woke up in hospital, minus an appendix, but with an angel standing next to me at the side of the bed. Doesn’t that sound corny?”

I smile. “It sounds sweet. Carry on.”

“Yeah. Well, there was this beautiful girl standing there looking at me with concern on her face, and when I was fully awake, she asked me if I was okay. She had the loveliest, most musical voice I’ve ever heard, and the sweetest smile. I think I fell in love there and then. Anyway, she was my nurse for the next few days while I was in hospital. I reckon I stayed in a couple of days longer than I needed to, just to be close to her, but she always had a special smile for me, and stayed to chat as often as she could. She gave me her number on the day I left, but I still got Harry to drive me to the hospital in time for the end of her shift. I waited for her at the entrance, and I didn’t even ask her out. I just said, ‘Linda, you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. Will you marry me?’”

“Wow. What did she say? You’d been her patient for three or four days, right?” says Joanna.

“Five, but I take your point. She suggested we get to know each other a bit better first, but she liked the idea – I could see it in her face. So we did date for a while. A short while. After three weeks, she agreed that this was the real deal, and we got married a month later. That was five years ago.” His voice thickens, and moisture fills his eyes. “I honestly believed we’d be together forever. Whoever did this deserves to die so horribly. My poor Linda must have been so scared at the end, and she was always so brave. I want to kill the bastard that did this.”

Joanna gives me a barely perceptible nod, and I take over the questioning.

“Did you or she have any enemies you knew of?”

“She just made friends with everyone, she was such a lovely person. No one could have hated her enough to do this.”

“Unfortunately, there are some horrible people around who detest loveliness. Beauty, sweetness and kindness can inspire intense jealousy and hatred. If you know of any issues that Linda might have had, maybe at work, then please let us know. Even if you can’t think of them just now. What about you? Did you have any enemies, or anyone that was perhaps jealous of you?”

“There were a few other bands that got a bit narky on social media when we got our deal, but nothing to make me think they’d kill. And even if they did, they’d most likely want to kill me rather than… Oh God, why the fuck would anyone want to kill Linda?”

“That’s what we need to find out, Troy. How about your fans? Would anyone want you enough to want to get rid of your wife?”

“That’s bloody ridiculous.”

“Do you have any – I don’t know what you’d call them – super-fans? Is that the right word?”

“Probably, and yeah, I’ve got a few. Maybe three that I can think of.”

“If I show you some photos, would you be able to identify them?” I’ve spotted a Share button on the screen.

“I can try.”

“Okay, thanks. Give us a minute.”

I have the photos of the fans on my phone, and I email them to Joanna, with a request that she opens them on her laptop. A few clicks later, and we’re sharing the photos over Skype. The first one we show is of the man. I found a name from face-matching software, but it’s not reliable, and I’m keen to see if Troy recognises him or the two girls I half-identified.

“So, Troy, have you any idea who this guy might be?”

We can still see him in a thumbnail at the top of the screen. He stares for a moment, presumably at the picture.

“I recognise him. He’s been at most of our Manchester gigs, and he’s come up to us afterwards a fair few times. Says he wants to be in a band. I’m trying to remember his name. Sean? Dick? No, shit. What was it? Dean! Yeah, that was it. Dean. I don’t think I ever knew his surname, but he gave me his number once in case we ever needed a new band member. Not likely, and even if we did, we wouldn’t choose him. Girls like the band members to be young and hot. You can see from the picture, he doesn’t quite meet those criteria. He was a bit of a slimeball as well. Probably harmless, but a bit creepy.”

“Do you still have his number?”

“I’ll have a look. It might be in my phone. I’ll text you afterwards if I’ve got it.”

“How about this one?” I show the next picture: the tall, dark-haired girl. She looks about the same age as Troy, who I now know is twenty-five.

He gives a wry grin. “Yeah, I recognise her. She’s tried