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Back Last Place You Look Save as PDF
Chapters (85)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part 1
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. Part 2
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. Part 3
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. Epilogue
  82. Acknowledgements
  83. Canelo Crime
  84. About the Author
  85. Also by Louisa Scarr

Robin finishes his bacon sandwich and tidies up the mess in his kitchen. Then, with nothing else to do, and the thought of a Sunday run conveniently forgotten, he pulls out his laptop and files and gets to work.

The first thing he does is call that number again. The elusive mistress. It’s been bothering Robin from the beginning, a woman who might know more about Jonathan and how he died. They traced the number back to a pay-as-you-go mobile bought from Carphone Warehouse over a year ago. But the records show it being bought and registered by Jonathan Miller himself, no way of knowing who he gave it to next.

The number rings, and Robin waits. He’s tried it a few times over the last week, but each time it’s been turned off. Robin’s hopeful, but it rings out to the generic voicemail again.

He’s not sure where else to look. Freya’s been through the telematics for the car: no strange destinations. The laptop’s still missing. He even went back to some of the names from Khalid Riaz’s party, but no, they said, mistress? Not Jonathan, surely.

If it wasn’t for the messages on Jonathan’s mobile, he’d start to wonder if she even existed.

He looks at them again, now downloaded into an easy-to-navigate Excel document. Whoever she is, it’s clear she liked him. And the feeling was reciprocated, declarations of love from both sides. Robin feels strange, reading someone’s personal correspondence in this way, but needs must, and getting a picture of this other relationship in Jonathan’s life is vital.

So where the hell is she? Why hasn’t she come forward? Robin keeps on coming back to that. Jonathan’s death was in the papers, along with his own name and the number of the incident room, so why hasn’t she called?

He’s still waiting on forensics. Tox screen pending at the lab. All other lines of enquiry exhausted for now, Robin sets his sights on this woman.

Whoever she is, Robin resolves, pouring himself another mug of coffee, he’ll find her.

45

Freya and Steph stand at Freya’s front door, Steph bouncing on the balls of her feet, readying herself to run home.

‘What a way to go,’ Steph says, zipping her top up tight under her chin. ‘Trapped by your own car, smelling the petrol. Knowing your last moments will be in all-encompassing pain and terror.’

Freya winces in response to the vivid picture Steph presents.

‘Why did they miss it before?’ she asks.