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

look into it and liaise with the Huddersfield police. I have a few contacts over there.” I watch her stow the used tissues into her handbag. “Do you need us to get you a taxi?”

“I’ve got an Uber coming in a minute. I arranged it for two o’clock when I got here, before I knocked on the door. I figured it would be long enough. Anyway, I’ve got a work meeting at three, so I’ll go straight there. It will help me take my mind off things.” She seems to have pulled herself together and is now quite calm and business-like. Her phone buzzes. “That’s my Uber. It says it’s outside.”

Joanna looks out of the window. “Yes, there’s a taxi parked up.”

Two minutes later, she’s gone. We wait another minute for the cab to get off the estate, but we’re both keen to leave. Will’s going to drive us again. He’ll be heartbroken when he hands that car back on Monday.

Joanna sits in the front this time and handles the satnav. I settle myself comfortably in the back. I’m tired still, but adrenaline is keeping me alert.

“So what did you think of that?” Will asks, as he releases the handbrake and sets off.

“I’m not sure. She was obviously upset, but some of it didn’t sound right.” Joanna echoes what I’ve been thinking.

“Good. I thought it was just me thinking that. When we get back, I want to look closely at her story, find out about this burglary and dig into the relationships. As I said, I’ve got a contact in Huddersfield – one of my pals from training moved over there a couple of years later when she met and married a Yorkshireman. We’ve stayed in touch. Ellie is totally trustworthy and will do me a favour if I ask her nicely.”

“Great. You’ve got some useful friends, Becky.” Will turns his head and grins.

“Keep your eyes on the road. Yes, over the years, I made a lot of friends in the police, and lots of them moved around the country. A few even moved abroad, so I’ve got contacts all over the place.”

Now that we’ve got a plan for Penny, there doesn’t seem much point bashing it over in the car, and the conversation drifts. Will puts the radio on.

We arrive at our destination at just after half past two. I’d already messaged Troy to warn him we were running a bit late. I didn’t want him freaking out. Gaz lives in a smart apartment block in Didsbury. The three of us get out of the car this time.

Joanna presses the buzzer, after checking with me which is the correct flat number.

“Come up,” says an unfamiliar but friendly voice. “First floor on the right.”

The door is open when we get upstairs, and the man in the doorway is recognisable as Gaz from Vic’s description. Tall, gangly, ginger-haired and freckly. He reminds me of the guy who played Gregory in Gregory’s Girl. Attractive in a geeky way. He beckons to come into the flat.

“Hi, I’m Gaz, or Gareth if you prefer, but most people call me Gaz.”

We each introduce ourselves, and then I add, “We’re from the White Knight Agency. We’re helping Troy.” Internally I add ‘or trying to’, but some thoughts are better not voiced.

He ushers us into a pleasant living room, with a black leather sofa and gaming chair, and blue carpet and curtains. The magnolia walls are covered with framed photos and certificates. In each corner of the room is a pile of books, post, magazines and CDs respectively. I stifle a smile, but Gaz must have been following my gaze.

“Sorry – last-minute attempt at tidying up.” He grins. “Troy will be along in a minute. I sent him for a shower.”

“It’s good of you to look after him.” I lead the conversation. Perhaps I feel more as though I know him after my conversation with the record producer.

“Someone had to do it. Zach had a few personal issues with Troy, and Harry is… Well, he’s Harry.”

“How do you mean?”

“He’s still a lad. We’re all the same age, but some people grow up and others not so much. Don’t get me wrong, I love him like a brother, but I feel ten years older most of the time.”

“I met your producer in London yesterday.”

“Vic?” Gaz looks interested. “What did he have to say?”

“He said that you’re the prankster of the band, but that you’re also the glue.”

“Perceptive of him. Yeah, probably. Anyway, I guess you can understand why it’s me that’s looking after Troy.”

“Of course I can, but it’s still good of you.” I take a deep breath. “If you don’t mind me asking, how well did you know Linda?”

His expression softens, and for a moment, I think maybe more than one of the band members were in love with her.

“She was a like a sister to me and the other guys. Well, not all the other guys. Zach was besotted with her. So I guess it was just me and Harry that loved her like a sister. We saw her several times a week, and she was part of our lives. So we’re all grieving in our different ways.”

“How about Troy’s mum and dad? Did you know them at all?”

“Yeah. When we were at college, we used to go to Troy’s house in the evenings and weekends for rehearsals and song-writing. Pat – Troy’s mum – would bring us freshly-baked chocolate brownies or treacle toffee. She was a lovely woman. I didn’t know his dad so well. Just enough to say hi to if he opened the door to us. He seemed like a nice bloke, but reserved.”

“Thanks. That’s really helpful.” I glance at my watch. It’s nearly three and Troy’s not come in yet. “Is it worth checking on him?” I glance towards a door that looks to lead to the rest of the apartment.

“Yeah, maybe. Give me a minute.”

We sit in companionable silence while Gaz goes to check on his friend. He comes back a