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The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club #3)(26)

Author:Richard Osman

‘A little help,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Right away if possible.’

‘OK, are you at home?’

‘Bogdan, I hear a noise in the background. Is somebody there?’

‘Is the TV.’

‘Well, it isn’t the TV, but let’s not argue about it now. I’m in a public phone box, I have no idea where but the number is 01785 547541. I wonder if you could possibly find out where that is, and then possibly also come and get me?’

She hears the sound of a laptop being opened.

‘Where is Stephen? You need me to see him?’

‘He’s with me, dear.’ Elizabeth puts the receiver to Stephen’s mouth.

‘Hello, old chap,’ says Stephen. ‘Sorry to be a nuisance. A right pair of waifs and strays you have on your hands.’

‘Is no problem,’ says Bogdan. ‘Put me back to Elizabeth.’

Elizabeth gets back on the call.

‘OK, you’re in Staffordshire,’ says Bogdan. ‘You heard of Staffordshire?’

‘Of course I’ve heard of Staffordshire,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Any chance you could head up? It’s very cold.’

‘Already dressing,’ says Bogdan.

‘Thank you. Any clue how long it will take you?’

Bogdan goes quiet for a moment. ‘Google says three hours and forty-five minutes. So I will be there in two hours and thirty-eight minutes.’

‘I’m almost sure I can hear someone else there, Bogdan.’

‘It’s the sat nav,’ says Bodgan. ‘You hold tight and I get there as soon as I can. Do you need me to bring you anything?’

Elizabeth thinks for moment. Viktor Illyich, the Viking, Joyce. Is a plan forming? She believes it may well be.

‘Yes, please, dear,’ she says. ‘Could you bring me a flask of tea, and a gun?’

15

Mike Waghorn sits in a leather swivel chair, in a darkened edit suite. He holds a pen like the cigarette he would dearly love to smoke. But you can’t smoke now everyone has an HD television. It is very ageing.

There is a row of television monitors in front of him, and, in front of the monitors, a control panel that wouldn’t look out of place on an Airbus 380. Mike has recently flown in an Airbus 380 simulator on a corporate away-day he hosted for Delta Airlines at Gatwick. He crashed it into the Adriatic, trying to show off.

The face of Bethany Waites fills the screens in front of him. Mike is watching the tribute show he had hosted with Fiona Clemence. Fiona, with her game shows, her adverts, her magazine front covers. She has recently brought out her own diet book. But look at the two of them on screen in 2013. Mike Waghorn, the famous one, Fiona Clemence, the producer over-promoted to presenter. Mike hadn’t thought she would last.

Fiona was no fan of Bethany, that was for sure. And vice versa, to be fair. Huge rows, the two of them would have. Mike has thought about this a few times over the years. Could Fiona have killed Bethany? It is an absurd thought, but Bethany’s death had given Fiona her big break, so who knew? Television was a cut-throat business at the best of times. He has looked further back in his texts after the other night. Bethany had been receiving anonymous notes at work. Just leave. No one wants you here. We are all laughing at you. Schoolyard stuff, really. But perhaps not? Were they from Fiona? And, if not, who were they from?

There are clips from Bethany’s time on South East Tonight. It’s mainly action shots, the type of stuff that looks good in montages. Bethany Waites on Kent’s largest rollercoaster, Tom Jones flirting with Bethany Waites backstage at the Brighton Centre, Bethany Waites at the top of a Dubai skyscraper, interviewing a Faversham woman who had made a fortune in plastic surgery, Bethany Waites being pushed into a swimming pool by a group of schoolkids from Deal.

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