Paparazzi by Jo Fenton (best free e reader .txt) 📕
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- Author: Jo Fenton
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I avoid glancing at Will. A sudden urge to giggle is threatening, and I need to stay focussed.
“Did you ever meet one of their friends? A blonde girl called Penny?”
“Yeah. She wouldn’t let me near ‘er though. Bit stuck-up, that one. But a few weeks gone, she had one ‘eck of a row with them. Was calling ‘em slags and all sorts.”
“Did you hear this?” Will interjects.
“A bit. Least, I ‘eard shouting. Jen told me everything later, after a quick shag that evening while the wife was at bingo, and kid was with his gran.” He wipes his nose on his already grubby vest.
“What did Jen say?” The urge to laugh has been replaced by nausea, but I need to know what happened.
“They’d fallen out over something stupid. Jen wasn’t even sure what started it, but then this stuck-up cow started calling ‘em all sorts of names, and saying ‘You’ll be sorry’, and that kind of shit. Jen didn’t believe her, but kicked her out.”
“Did Penny come back at all?”
“Not sodding likely. Jen told me a couple of days before the burglary that she never wanted to see Penny again. Even though they’d been friends for years. Said the cow had been slagging ‘em off on Facebook and stuff.”
“Thanks Barry, that’s really helpful.” I glance at Will, and he nods. He’ll be able to drill through the social media channels and show us the side of Penny that she’s never revealed to us.
I feel vindicated. I was right. If Jen had previously told Barry that they’d fallen out, Penny couldn’t have been due to spend the weekend with them.
We say our goodbyes to Barry, giving him ten pounds for his trouble. Maybe he’ll get fish and chips for his family instead of blowing it all on girls, drink and drugs. You never know.
Two doors away, on the other side of the crime scene, is Number 21 – the residence of the Granger family. Unlike Barry, they wait until I ring the doorbell before opening the door. Carly lets us in. She’s a pretty, athletic-looking redhead.
I show her our business card. “I’m Rebecca. This is Will. He’s only joined us recently. We’re still waiting for the new cards to be printed. May we come in?”
“Of course. Sorry. I was just busy with some work. I run my own accountancy business from home. It makes sense with three kids and works well when they’re all at school.” She leads the way into a living room that couldn’t be more different from Barry’s if it tried. The proportions were the same, but everything else is unrecognisable. The wallpaper and carpets are complemented by spotlessly-clean furnishings of crimson and gold. There is no clutter at all, and after instructing us to sit down, Carly offers us a cup of tea. Moments later, we’re served with tea in china cups and slices of carrot cake.
“Thanks. This cake is gorgeous,” I say once I’ve swallowed my first mouthful. “Did you make it yourself?”
“Sort of. I like to pretend I’m a domestic goddess, but my baking skills are enhanced by packets of premixed ingredients. It saves a lot of time and effort, especially as we only got back from holiday yesterday.” She grins at me, and as I grin back I refrain from commenting that buying one from the shop saves even more time and effort. I also wonder at her ability to bake when her friend has just been murdered, but maybe she finds it therapeutic.
“It’s lovely, anyway. And it’s good of you to talk to us. We just want to find out a bit more about your late next-door neighbours.”
“Sure. There were three of them. All girls. Graduates. Jen did her degree in Accountancy, like I did, although I’d graduated a few years before she started. There were four of them at first. They moved in next door in their second year.”
“How long ago was that?”
“That would have been a bit over seven years ago now. Jen, Kim, and Leigh stayed. Kim is a teacher now at the same school where Frederick teaches. He’d often give her a lift to school. If I remember correctly, she did Biology, but she teaches General Science as well to the Year 7s and 8s. Leigh studied History, and works – sorry, worked – I can’t get my head around this – she worked as one of those heir hunters. She loved her job so much.” Carly gets out a tissue from her pocket and blows her nose loudly.
“I’m so sorry. It sounds as though you knew the girls really well.”
“Yes. I didn’t know Penny as well, as she left shortly after her degree, to do an internship with a newspaper. She’d done a photography course and wanted to do journalistic photography. I would hear all the news from Jen. I’d tutored her through her accountancy exams and we became close friends as well as neighbours.” She shakes her head. “It probably seems weird that I’m not in tears, but I go through phases. At present, I just feel numb, then suddenly it hits me, and I’m in bits. It doesn’t feel real talking to a detective about them. I just wish I’d been here that night. Maybe I’d have heard something and called the police.”
“It’s not impossible that the intruder waited until you were on holiday. He or she may have trusted to drink or drugs to keep the residents of Number 17 asleep, but you were a bigger threat.”
“Maybe. I still feel guilty for being away though.” She gulps some tea, and I can see that the intermittent tears are threatening.
“Sorry, do you mind if I just ask another question about Penny?”
She sniffs and straightens up. “Sure, go ahead.”
“How often did Penny visit the other girls?”
“Until recently, she’d come over and stay for the weekend every couple of months,
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