Текст книги "Disgraced"
Автор книги: Annabel Chant
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Disgraced
The Filth Monger Series
Book 3
Annabel Chant
Blurb
The Filth Monger’s story draws to a dramatic close…
Sometimes, people conspire at their own destruction…
If Grace hadn’t been sure if she should trust Nathaniel before, now she’s damned sure she shouldn’t. His reputation is in tatters, his every step dogged by Detective Inspector Brown. The DI’s determined to pin something on him and, when further dodgy dealings come to light, it seems she might get her way.
With Aimee’s mysterious disappearance close to being solved, he knows he should leave Grace alone, despite his feelings for her. Her public persona remains intact, for the moment at least, and the last thing she needs is to be caught up in the ever-tightening net that has him in its grip.
Besides, she has enough problems of her own. Leo’s on a downward spiral and Kim’s heading into a tail spin to rival her own. Doing her best to keep everyone happy, Grace is drawn into a web of lies and, when she confronts Max head-on, it may be kill-or-cure time for Kim.
It’s time for Grace to confront her own behaviour, and her feelings for the man the whole country now knows as The Filth Monger. As secrets are revealed, more lives are threatened and Grace has a decision to make. If she abandons Nat now, she’ll save her reputation but lose the man she loves. If she stands by him, she just might be putting her life on the line.
Disgraced is Book 3 of the Filth Monger series. Due to adult themes and language, it is intended for a mature audience. The books need to be read in order. Book 1 – Falling from Grace – is also available on Amazon.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading Disgraced. If you enjoy it, please take a moment to let others know via a review on your local Amazon, such as Amazon.com or Amazon UK. Please note that Disgraced is the final (third) book in the Filth Monger series and they need to be read in order. Book 1 – Falling from Grace – is available on Amazon.
For ARCs (advance review copies), release dates and launch offers, just join the Fan Mongers. I’ll email you on release day so that you don’t miss out.
If you want to connect with me, I’m @AnnabelChant on Twitter, or you can find me on Facebook. I’d be excited to hear from you!
Once again, thanks for reading – it’s so much appreciated.
Annabel x
One
Her
Murder and suspected murder.
Everything was a twisted blur from that moment until I got back to Liv’s. As Nathaniel was escorted from the room by the police, he shot me a smile over his shoulder but what it meant I couldn’t fathom. Was he trying to ingratiate himself with me, or mocking me?
I had no idea but, like an echo from a nightmare, his words from just a few minutes before came flooding back; I was going to tie you up.
No, I told myself. He wouldn’t be that stupid. Ronnie knew I was there. So, probably, did most of the staff, but that wasn’t as reassuring as it could’ve been. Their relationship was so peculiar, and she seemed to dote on him and know him so well, she could well have been in on it.
As for the staff, it seemed they were paid enough to ensure discretion wasn’t an issue. Christ, he could’ve been doing this sort of stuff for years. It would explain a lot about his “organisation”, and why he didn’t seem to get off on what was probably, to him, the mere set-up.
Was that what it was all about, his organisation? Was this how he picked his victims? It was as if a veil had been lifted on all my questions, and suddenly everything made perfect sense. Women like me came to him, in secret, to experience fantasies they wouldn’t tell anyone else about. No one would know they’d gone there. No one would know where to find them.
I was going to tie you up.
Prickles of cold ran all over me as I went back into the bedroom and grabbed my clothes, pulling them on as quickly as my trembling fingers would allow. His words kept playing, over and over, in my head, as I dressed.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling with the straps of my sandals, when Ronnie opened the bedroom door, and sauntered in. She stood there, regarding me pityingly, as I tried to pass them through the buckles.
‘Don’t be too hard on him,’ she said, as I finally managed to do up the second one. ‘He’s going to need your support.’
‘My support?’ My voice came out high-pitched and slightly hysterical. ‘Those girls…whoever they are…could’ve been me.’
I stood up and adjusted my dress. God, I was a mess, both inside and out. Just when I’d thought I might finally have sorted my life out – to some extent, at least – it’d turned into an episode from The Twilight Zone.
Ronnie didn’t reply right away. When she did, it was with an amused smile. ‘I hardly think so. I got the impression Nat was fond of you, at the very least.’
‘And the others? Was he fond of them, too?’ I ran my fingers through my hair, teasing out the tangles as best I could. I wanted them gone. Feeling them there reminded me of his shirt buttons, catching in my hair as he thrust into my mouth; his fingers, twisting tendrils of it as he drove into the very core of me. A shiver ran through my whole body again, at the memory.
‘The others?’ Ronnie shrugged. ‘Charlotte was…a pain in the ass, nothing more. Aimee…’ She walked over to the window and looked out towards the avenue of lime trees. ‘He was in love with Aimee, but she…’ She paused, as if searching for the right wording. ‘…was out of control.’
Aimee. I’d thought the name was familiar. She was the girl in the photo on the mantelpiece. The girl for whom he’d said he did everything. She’d been the first, then, seemingly. Charlotte was just some sort of sick tribute. Was she the only one, or were there others the police had yet to find?
I walked to the door. ‘I don’t see how I can be of any support,’ I said, desperate to get away from the Castle, from the whole crazy situation. ‘He’s just a…filth monger. I don’t even know him.’
Ronnie shrugged again. ‘I’ll get Stephens to drive you home,’ she said, following me. ‘But, you know, sometimes you have to take a chance on the people you love.’
Two
Her
The drive back seemed interminable. Stephens was silent, as always, but this time I felt it was a silence of disapproval – more so than ever I’d felt when he’d driven me to my disgrace. Somehow, Nathaniel still seemed to have the loyalty of his staff – not just their discretion.
I wondered when I’d be questioned over my involvement with him, and what that would do for my new-found fame if it were blasted across the media. I hardly cared. I was still too shell-shocked at how events had panned out.
I was also – and I hardly liked to admit it, even to myself – disappointed. I’d thought it was the start of the most perfect thing that had ever happened to me, but instead it was the end of one man’s murderous spree. It just showed how fragile anything perfect could be, and I’d dared to dream of perfection. Now those dreams were shattered – splintered into a million shards that sliced at my heart and my hopes until there was nothing left of them.
When we finally pulled up outside Liv’s, Stephens came around to open the door for me.
‘Thank you, Stephens,’ I said, getting out the car.
‘Ma’am.’ He gave me a brief nod, but didn’t go to get back in the car.
As I reached the front door, he called out to me. ‘Ma’am?’
I turned back. ‘Yes?’
‘Whatever they’re saying, don’t believe it.’ He’d taken his cap off, and was twisting it in his hands. ‘He’s a good man, Mr Fforbes. Best I’ve worked for.’
I gave a half-hearted smile, and nodded. ‘Thank you, Stephens.’
He returned my smile, anxiety etched across his face, then hurried round to the driver’s side. I stood and watched as he got in and pulled away, then turned back to the door. As I went to put my key in the lock, it flew open. Liv stood there, wild-haired and red eyed.
She looked how I felt, so I knew right away something was wrong.
‘Where have you been, then, you dirty stop-out?’ she said, clearly doing her best to sound cheerful. ‘Not with the Fforbesmeister?’
I nodded, not wanting to speak in case I dissolved into the tears I could feel pricking at my eyes.
‘Well, come in, then,’ she said, dragging me by the arm. ‘Tell all.’
We went through into the kitchen, where she set to making tea. Being back at Liv’s, and especially in her warm, comforting kitchen, made me feel safer, somehow. Less vulnerable. I felt the tension fading away slightly, and the tears with it.
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ I said, when I felt able to talk again. ‘You tell me. I can see something’s up.’
‘It’s Gav.’ Liv brought the tea over, and sat down opposite me at the table.
‘Oh no,’ I said, putting my hand on hers. ‘Not…?’
‘Yes,’ she said, in tones of high gloom. ‘Celeste. And, of course, she’s loving it.’
‘Oh, Liv.’ I patted her hand, not knowing what to say. ‘You’re worth ten of her. And him,’ I added, as an afterthought.
If anything, ten was an understatement. I’d never got what she saw in him, but he obviously had some sort of hold over her, and I hated seeing her so down.
‘Thanks,’ she said, bleakly. ‘I just feel so…let down, you know?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ I didn’t look at my cup – just took a sip from it. I promptly put it down again, with an exclamation. ‘Ew! What is that? Is it…?’
‘Green tea,’ said Liv, absently. ‘Sorry, I forgot. It’s good for you,’ she added, helpfully.
‘I heard,’ I said, lifting it up to my nose and inhaling the smell. It still smelt of grass but, also, of him or, at least, of that time we’d spent together in the café. My throat tightened with misery at the memory, and I set my cup down firmly on the table.
‘Be careful,’ said Liv, taking it away from me. ‘You’ll spill it.’
I half wanted to take it back, to smell it again and remember that intoxicating feeling of being with him, but it was pointless. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s okay. I just didn’t want it melting a hole in the table.’ She took a sip of her tea, and grimaced. ‘Ugh…it would, as well. It’s like battery acid.’
I managed a laugh at her disgusted face, and she grinned back briefly, before looking up at the wall. I followed her gaze to a poster of the band. She gave a sigh at the sight of it, then put her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands.
‘What about the band?’ I said, as it was obvious that was where her mind was.
‘There is no band.’
‘What? Oh, Liv, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ She stood up. ‘Fuck the tea,’ she said. ‘Let’s crack open the bubbly.’
‘Bubbly?’ God, it was barely midday. ‘What for?’
‘To celebrate, of course,’ she said. ‘I’m starting a new chapter in my life. A new band, hopefully, sometime soon, and you just spent the night with the UK’s most eligible bachelor.’
I suspected it was more about getting hammered than celebrating but, after the last twenty four hours, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I dutifully took the glass she thrust at me, and ducked as she sent the cork flying into the wall above me. It landed smack in the middle of the poster, and it didn’t seem like an accident.
‘So, tell me,’ she said, settling down in front of me again and drizzling Prosecco into our glasses. ‘How’d it go with Mr Fforbes?’
‘He’s a psycho,’ I said and took a gulp of the fizzy stuff. It made me wince. It was really very fizzy, and dry and tart, to boot. I took a deep breath, and gulped some more down.
She laughed dirtily and then, after a look at my deadpan expression, her eyes widened.
‘What d’you mean, a psycho?’ she said, taking a gulp of her wine.
‘I mean, a psycho,’ I said, swigging more of my own. ‘Psychotic. Truly. I was lucky to get out alive.’
She giggled. ‘Was it that good, then?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I mean, yes, it was, but…’ I leaned forward and looked her in the eye. ‘…He’s a genuine psycho, Liv. I mean, a real one.’
‘No, really?’ She looked mystified. ‘In what way?’
I couldn’t help myself, my voice went down to a whisper. ‘He’s killed women, Liv. At least two, to my knowledge.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She laughed, and took another gulp of wine. ‘He’s a friend of Max’s.’
‘I know,’ I said, although – with everything going on – I’d completely forgotten. Oh God… ‘Max warned me about him. He told me he’d assaulted some girl.’
‘And you still went out with him?’ Liv shook her head. ‘I’d have thought that was the last thing you’d need, after Leo.’
She was right, of course. I should’ve listened to Max. What had I been thinking of? Truth to tell, I hadn’t been thinking at all, ever since I’d left Leo. ‘After Nathaniel Fforbes,’ I said, with feeling. ‘Leo is a saint. I think I might miss him.’
‘No.’ Liv topped up my glass, then her own. ‘No, Grace. Listen to me. We don’t need men. I don’t need Gav. You don’t need Leo, and you certainly don’t need Nathaniel fucking Fforbes.’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘He’s a murderer, Liv. I can hardly believe it.’
She stood up, glass in hand, with the air of someone about to make a great speech. ‘All men are murderers, Grace,’ she declaimed, pausing to take another sip of wine. ‘Every time they use us, or abuse us, or dump us, a tiny part of us dies. They’re all killers.’
The enormity of the situation appeared to be lost on her but, at that moment, I didn’t care. Her insouciance made the whole scenario seem less real – less scary – and it grounded me a little.
‘You’re probably right,’ I said, doubtfully.
‘You can count on it, hon,’ she said. ‘Come on let’s go and get wasted.’
Three
Him
It was late evening, when Lionel finally arrived. He was dressed in a pale grey suit, complete with cravat, and his face was a ruddy red from the sun. ‘Sorry, my boy,’ he said, striding into the interview room, his hand outstretched. ‘Been at the races. What the hell are you doing back in here? Missing the place, were you?’
‘Lionel,’ I said, shaking his hand in relief. My claustrophobia had been playing up again in the cell, and it was a relief to see him. Short of going to Giles again, cap in hand, Lionel was my best hope of getting out of this place. ‘It’s the same girl as before.’
‘But murder this time. You’ve certainly upped the ante. Hmm.’ He sat down at the table and read through the charge sheet. He looked up at me. ‘Did you do it?’
‘Lionel.’ I tried to keep my voice level. At the end of the day, Lionel didn’t give a fuck if I’d done it. He just wanted to know how best to play it and, for that, he needed my honesty. ‘Have you ever known me to misbehave?’
‘Well, you and Aimee…’ he said, musingly.
‘That was over ten years ago.’ I sat back in my chair, pissed off. People still had to bring that up, even after everything. ‘We’d barely come down from Uni. Kids will be kids.’
‘Hmm,’ he said again. ‘I see her name’s on here, too.’
‘Yes.’ I looked away, not from Lionel but from the charge sheet. I couldn’t bear that her name was on there. I’d tried my best, ever since the whole business, to make up for it, but somehow it just wouldn’t go away. That it’d come up now – especially linked to the whole Charlotte fiasco – was yet another kick in the teeth. I knew I was guilty – I didn’t need reminding.
‘So what’s been said so far?’
I thought back over the brief conversation I’d had with Detective Inspector Brown – the same Amber Brown I’d been roasted by the time before. I got the feeling she’d requested the case, purely to gloat.
‘So, we meet again, Mr Fforbes,’ she’d begun, with an ironic stare. Original, very. ‘Anyone would think you couldn’t bear to be away from me.’
‘Hardly,’ I said, returning the look with venom. ‘Would you mind telling me what I’m doing here? What evidence do you have?’
‘The investigation’s at a very early stage,’ she said, dismissing the mention of evidence with a wave of her hand. ‘I’m sure you realise why you’re here. When a woman’s killed following an assault, one does tend to leap to conclusions. Imagine my surprise when I dug a little deeper and found out your ex-girlfriend is also missing.’
‘I loved Aimee,’ I said, with a sigh of impatience. ‘Why would I hurt her?’
‘If I had a pound for every time I’d heard that one, I’d be able to retire early,’ she said, looking unimpressed.
‘Do you talk exclusively in clichés?’ She was rattling me, and she knew it. ‘I did everything I could to find her. Christ, I was the one who filed the missing persons report.’
‘Yes,’ she said, with a smirk. ‘And if I had a pound for every murderer who filed a missing persons report…’
‘Yes, yes, I know,’ I interrupted her. ‘You’d be retired already.’
‘We’ll know more when we get the forensics report,’ she said, standing up to go. ‘Your lawyer’s been contacted. For now, you can make use of the leisure facilities.’
‘So they’ve no forensics to link you,’ said Lionel, after listening to this exchange in silence. ‘Not yet, at least.’
‘Not at all,’ I said, getting up and pacing the room. ‘How can they have? I didn’t do it.’
‘We’ll just have to wait for the results to come back, then.’ He put the charge sheet down on the table. ‘You didn’t say anything untoward, anyway. She shouldn’t have spoken to you at all, without me present. Maybe we can use that, if we have to.’
‘She did the same last time,’ I said. ‘I need to get out. I have to find out who did kill Charlotte.’
‘Now that…’ Lionel looked up at me sharply. ‘Is a job for the police. You need to steer well clear. Do you hear me?’
I nodded.
‘It won’t do you any good, interfering in the investigation. Christ, as if you’re not in enough trouble.’ He went to get up, then stopped and sat down. ‘Do you know who did it, then?’
I shook my head. ‘No…that is…I don’t. No. And yet…’
‘And yet?’
‘It’s just a hunch. It’s probably ridiculous.’ I ran my hands through my hair. ‘I’m just thinking of people who might want her dead.’
‘Those people being?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ I sat back down at the table. ‘It’s impossible, anyway. I mean, physically impossible.’
‘So, tell me.’
‘If I do, it stays between us, do you understand? This is something I need to sort out for myself.’
Four
Her
I see now that’s where I made my mistake. Going out in the mood I was in was bound to end in disaster, but I was still too shocked and miserable to think straight. So we changed and headed out into Chiswick on a pub crawl. It seemed like a good idea, at the time. We both needed to blow off steam and, as the afternoon wore on, the tension inside us gave way to a kind of nervous hilarity. By the time Jimmy rang me at about four o’clock, we were in the beer garden of our third pub and I was properly drunk – giggling one minute and weeping the next.
‘Grace?’ His voice was high-pitched with excitement
‘Hello, Jimmy.’ I put my hand across the mouthpiece. ‘It’s Jimmy,’ I told Liv, in a stage whisper. She gave a huge snort and dissolved into giggles.
‘Grace, I’ve got a job offer for you,’ he said. ‘It’s a cosmetics ad. A new brand – very high end. Think Clinique…Lancôme.’
‘Sounds fab, Jimmy,’ I said, not really listening. ‘I’m in.’
‘There’s only one problem.’ He hesitated. ‘The shoot’s tomorrow. It’s a last-minute thing. The model they were going to use…pulled out.’
‘O-kay,’ I said, trying to absorb this new angle on events. In my current state, it wasn’t easy. ‘Are you sure they’ll want me?’
‘Are you kidding?’ he said, with a laugh. ‘They’ve doubled their original offer already. By the time I get back to them, I’m betting it’ll have doubled again.’
‘Count me in,’ I said, blithely. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘There’ll be a car coming for you at nine tomorrow morning. Be ready.’
‘That was Jimmy,’ I said, unnecessarily, after he’d hung up. ‘I’m doing some photo shoot thing tomorrow.’
‘But tomorrow’s Monday.’ Liv sounded agitated. ‘Max’ll go mad.’
‘It’ll be like the film,’ I said, with a cavalier shrug.
‘What film?’
‘Mad Max.’
We both collapsed into yet more giggles, before Liv put down her glass and looked at me, clearly making an effort to sound sober. ‘He will go mad, though.’
‘So what?’ I said, with a toss of my head. ‘I don’t care about Max Flint. He was nasty about my Filth Monger.’
‘Your what?’
‘Nathaniel,’ I said, quickly. ‘It’s…his nickname.’
‘A charming one, I’m sure.’ Liv looked unimpressed, then reached across and grabbed my hands. ‘I’m in love with him.’
‘Well, it’s a bit late now,’ I said. ‘He’s under arrest.’
‘Not with him, you doughnut. With Max.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I’m in love with Nathaniel.’
‘You can’t be.’ Liv picked up her glass again, and took another gulp. ‘He’s a murder.’
‘I know.’ I followed her lead and drank some more wine. ‘But he’s lovely.’
‘He’s a lovely murderer, then.’ Liv sighed. ‘Max is just lovely.’
‘He’s a self-centred, obnoxious dick,’ I said.
‘You’re right,’ said Liv with a sigh. ‘Okay then, I’m in love with Gav.’
‘Gav’s a tosser.’ I drank some more wine. ‘So’s Leo.’
‘He is.’
‘But I miss him.’ I started to sob, loudly. ‘I want him back.’
‘No you don’t.’ Liv looked around us. ‘Sh. Everyone’s looking.’
‘Are they?’ I glanced around without really looking. Everything was beginning to get distorted from the drink, and my head swam with the sudden movement. ‘I don’t care. I love Leo – I do – and I miss him so much.’
‘You don’t,’ said Liv, getting up and holding her hand out to me. ‘And we need to get out of here. Those people have got their phones out. They’re taking pictures.’
‘I don’t care,’ I said, letting her drag me out through the beer garden. ‘At least he’s not a murderer. I love Leo. I want him back.’
‘Well, love him back at mine.’ Liv carried on relentlessly, dragging me out through the pub and into the street. ‘You’re making a show of yourself.’
By the time we got back to Liv’s, I was feeling sick and, after retching in spectacular fashion down the loo, she put me to bed.
‘Leo’s the least of your problems,’ she said, sitting on the edge. ‘You’ll have the wrath of Max to contend with, if you don’t go in tomorrow.’
I was tempted to say I didn’t care, but I knew I did really. This whole thing with Jimmy could dry up tomorrow. I still needed the job for the time being, at least. But it was more than that. I hated to let people down, even Max. Christ, especially Max. For one thing, I’d been his assistant for over three years and I knew that, deep down, he appreciated me. For another, he was my last, and only, link to the Filth Monger.