Page 44 of Her Lips Are Sealed

‘Lisa, I really don’t know, it’s been a very busy few days.’ She knew she should focus on the cases, but this woman looked desperate and she couldn’t help herself. ‘I’m sorry he didn’t tell me about the problems you’re having, but could you please explain what’s been happening. From the beginning.’

Lisa nodded. ‘I hate making a fuss, I’d rather poke my own eyes out with a sharp stick than be here, but something isn’t right. Have you ever felt that way about a situation or a person?’

Morgan nodded. ‘Far too many times for this lifetime. Lisa, I’m Morgan Brookes and it sounds like the guy you spoke to is my inspector, Marcel Howard.’

‘Yes, he was. I remember now.’

‘What’s been happening, Lisa, to make you upset enough to stand in the rain hoping to speak to someone? You could have been there for hours; we usually go in through the side entrance and park in the car park at the rear of the station. Why didn’t you wait inside? It’s a fluke that I’m so busy I didn’t bother.’

‘I wanted to speak to a woman, and you’re the first one to go in who looks like you work here. The guy, I don’t know who he is or where he lives, but I see him hanging around a lot near the flats where I live.’

‘Has he threatened you, scared you, approached you? Is his behaviour odd, sexually motivated?’

‘No, but he is there and he shouldn’t be. I live in Coniston and a woman was murdered there the other night. Someone should at least speak to this guy; he’s freaking me out.’

‘Okay, can you describe him to me?’

‘Taller than me but not much, it’s hard to tell.’

‘Age, clothing, race?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, he’s always got a hooded sweatshirt and baseball cap on. I think he’s white, but I only ever see him of an evening from a distance. It’s hard to tell when your eyesight isn’t wonderful.’

Morgan could feel the time ticking away. She was only supposed to be running in to pick the file up she’d printed off earlier and forgot. The hospital had phoned Ben to inform him there were complications with Paul Graham’s surgery and he wouldn’t be getting released tonight. He’d be reviewed in the morning by the surgical team. The flat had been sealed off until CSI could go there and work their magic. Ben had said they were calling it a night, so they could get some rest before taking Paul Graham into custody in the morning and she’d told him to go home, get showered and get to the quiz night. She’d field any calls that came in while they were off duty.

‘Have you phoned up when he’s actually there so officers can go talk to him to find out what he’s doing? There’s a good chance it’s completely innocent and he might have a legitimate reason to be there. Could he live nearby? Is he walking his dog?’

Lisa sighed. ‘I sound like a mad woman, don’t I? I know I do but it’s just not right.’

‘No, you don’t. You’re following your gut instinct, which is nearly almost right. Mine has saved me a few times, it never steers you wrong. But what I’m going to need you to do is ring up when he’s there and I’ll come speak to him myself. What time is he usually there, is it the same every night?’

She shook her head. ‘It varies and some nights he isn’t there. I didn’t see him the night of the murder which makes me think he’s the guy who did it because he was there the night before and the night after. What if you’re off duty? That other guy Marc said that if I rang up officers would come. I did ring and they didn’t or if they did I never saw them and they never spoke to me about it, so here I am.’

‘It’s been so busy and this isn’t an excuse, it genuinely has. We’ve had to borrow staff from Barrow to answer calls, and they don’t know the area as well as the officers from here. I will get the Control room to phone me at home, or I can give you my mobile number and you can ring me direct. How does that sound?’

‘Like you care about my concerns.’ She smiled sadly.

‘I do; I really do. I want to speak to whoever it is and check them out but without any details about his name or where he lives that’s going to be impossible. I’ll ask the duty sergeant to get patrol officers to do some drive-bys too, and pay the area some passing attention.’

Morgan picked up a piece of the torn-up scrap paper someone had left on the desk and wrote her name and number on it, praying that she hadn’t just given her personal details out to a psychopath that would end up stalking her, but she didn’t have the time to spare. She needed to go home and shower after spending too long in Paul Graham’s filthy kitchen.

Lisa stood up and Morgan caught the scent of her perfume as it wafted her way. ‘Chanel No. 5.’

Lisa smiled at her. ‘Yes, how did you know?’

‘It was my mum’s favourite.’

Lisa nodded. ‘My nan’s, I’m almost at the end of the bottle now, it’s all I have left of her and when I wear it, I feel like she’s close to me. I miss her a lot.’

Morgan felt tears prick at her eyes and she blinked because she knew that feeling all too well. ‘I bet you do, your nan and my mum had classy taste in perfume. I haven’t smelled it in forever. My mum died when I was sixteen.’

‘I’m so sorry, Morgan, that must have been tough. My nan only died last year, and I was lucky to spend so much time with her. Thank you for listening, I promise not to ring unless the guy is there. I would never take advantage of your kindness. I just want someone to take me seriously. You never know, he could be the guy who killed the woman on Brade Street.’

Lisa opened the door and walked out, leaving Morgan feeling a little sad thinking about Sylvia but also a little better that she’d managed to appease Lisa, to maybe make her feel as if someone cared enough about her concerns to do something about them.

She ran up the stairs two at a time, needing to grab the file now and get out of here before Marc or someone else called her into the office. Lucy and Josh were taking over for the evening and had arrived outside Paul Graham’s flat a little while ago to relieve them all. Morgan had never been so happy to have another DI working with them that was willing to pitch in. It made such a big difference and would hopefully ease their workload enough to reduce the permanent cloud of stress they seemed to always have to work under.

TWENTY-EIGHT