To Murder Matt Read online

  “It has to be much lighter, allowing more speed, slimmer so she can cut the waves, and glide effortlessly through the water–whatever the conditions. And the positioning of the mast will be...”

  A hand on her arm disturbed her thoughts. A voice whispered seductively in her ear from behind.

  “Hello, I’m Matt, is this boring you?” He paused, and then continued, “Do you realize that you are the most attractive woman here?” She turned to face him.

  As she turned, his eyes travelled her body appreciatively. Normally, Ellen would have bristled at such an introduction; however, there was something about him, something in his voice that excited her. Whatever it was, it had a caressing quality about it and she was not offended. His dark eyes wrinkled as he smiled. She smiled in answer and looked quizzically at him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite think what.

  “Don’t tell me that line was a hundred percent original? Do you use it all the time?” She raised her eyebrow as she spoke.

  “Not at all, but someone had to say it.” He smiled at her again and raised his glass in a mock salute. “Oh dear, your glass appears to be empty. Allow me. Are you staying with champagne?” Ellen nodded as he disappeared into the throng in search of a waiter.

  On his return, she watched his progress through the room. He was stopped numerous times by people as he tried to pass. Women were flirting; men were patting him on the back, and chatting, before letting him carry on back towards her. He was a devastatingly attractive man, with a worn ruggedness about him and a certain sportiness. She imagined him in a cream crew neck jumper walking along the Cornish coast with a dog bounding by his side, the wind ruffling his dark hair. He had an aura of belonging, in any surrounding, a charisma that meant he would easily fit into any scenario, and still, his smouldering dark looks seemed familiar somehow. He came back, handed her a glass, and she looked into his dark eyes once more. They were as black as a moonless night, and she was momentarily reminded of the eyes of a shark...expressionless, unless he wanted to convey a feeling...and even then, an instant later, they looked at her with a predatory spark of sexual interest that made her involuntarily shiver.

  ***

  The next morning, sunlight streamed in to her room, blinding her as she opened her eyes. Her head pounded from the night before, and she groaned, and turned over, to hug her pillow. She didn’t think she had overindulged. She had only had two glasses of champagne, or was it three? She couldn’t remember. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and padded on the soft carpet to her bathroom. In the mirror, a sleepy, smudged with makeup face, looked back at her. Her tousled hair stuck out at right angles, giving her the look of a mad woman. Alice Cooper, the rock star, was hotter than she was. She groaned again and splashed cold water in the general direction of her face.

  The day at the office passed uneventfully. They had more deadlines. The following month’s magazine had been put to bed, and all they had to do was last minute finishing touches before they published it. Things were always bustling though, as they often worked on several magazines at a time, always working months ahead. The biggest task was Photo Shopping all the models into taller, leaner, more attractive super beings with flawless hair and makeup. If the fashion suddenly changed with a fad, stock photos in their library could be digitally altered to become the latest trend; with a computer and modern software, anything was possible. They no longer even sent the models to exotic locations as it could all be achieved in-house with the graphics department.

  Sarah walked into Ellen’s office holding a pile of papers. She had been working with Ellen since they were both office juniors, but whilst Sarah had no ambition to speak of, Ellen had progressed through the ranks and Sarah had followed along behind her, on her rise. Now, she was her assistant and was very happy with that role.

  “Ellie, I’m going out for a drink later, want to come?” Her bright smile was directed at her.

  “Errrm, not sure really. Thanks Sarah. After last night, I was actually looking forward to going home and putting my feet up.”

  Sarah looked aghast.

  “What? I don’t believe it. You sound fifty.” She paused. “Oh come on granny, one drink won’t kill you. It won’t ruin your exciting feet up and knitting plans at all.”

  Ellen smiled. Maybe she had a point, and one wouldn’t hurt at all.

  In the wine bar, Ellen sighed with frustration. She was beginning to regret coming out for a drink. After the day she had had, to now be squashed in a busy bar, surrounded by noise and people, it was the last thing she was in the mood for. She just wanted peace and quiet after a busy day of being surrounded by people she didn’t really want to be with. Sarah was in her element. She had already spotted a group of hunky men that she liked the look of. Her eyes had signalled to Ellen to look across at them. One of them had a ripped stomach that showed his muscles through his tight T-shirt. He had just come from the gym, and was using the opportunity to flex his muscles at every woman that passed. Others in the bar were in suits, most likely working in advertising. She tried to catch Sarah’s eye again, but was blocked by a guy leaning towards her, his beer breath mixing with the smells of old smoke which clung to his jacket, as well as his overpowering body odour which he had tried, at some point that day, to unsuccessfully mask with a cheap deodorant. Ellen wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  “Oh...playing hard to get, are we?” he slurred, his hand resting on the wall behind her.

  Ellen bristled.

  “Wrong, I am not playing at all,” she replied curtly. She manoeuvred past him and started towards Sarah, who at this point, appeared to have forgotten all about their drinks and was busy talking, very closely to a guy. Their faces and lips were close enough for kissing, and unwilling to disturb Sarah in her never ending quest for love, Ellen turned to the left, towards the front of the bar and the door leading to the outside. Her drink, an orange juice, could be had at home. Outside, the winter air hit her, causing her to gasp. A fine drizzle made her squint as she walked towards her parked car.

  The next day, Sarah was in raptures about the new man in her life. This man, the one from last night, was going to be the be-all-and-end-all of her life. He was in advertising, thirty, single and the list continued. Ellen zoned out at that point. Ellen could have told her all this about him, just from the way he dressed, and chances are, she could tell her a few other things about him too, but Sarah was naïve. She believed in love and marriage, children, and a happy ever after. Each time she met a man, no matter who he was, he was always the man for her. The relationship inevitably ended, and so it continued.

  Ellen had to admire her though, for the way she still believed in love, and she had more courage than Ellen did. She actually took the plunge, whereas Ellen stayed on the sidelines and watched her friends marry and soar, then watched as, one by one, their relationships plunged into a downward spiral of despair and divorce, as had her own parents’ relationship, many years ago.

  Memories flooded her mind as Sarah still talked. Since she was little, the large mansion that was her familial home had been filled with rows, acrimony and sounds of breaking glass, and of ornaments flying through the air. Ornaments, that were priceless and unique would be scattered across the silk rugs in the morning. The nights were filled with bitter accusations as her parents argued and fought. On a couple of occasions, she had been wrenched from her bed as she was sleeping by her mother, who carried her, bewildered, through the sprawling house and down to the car, as she threatened to take her and leave. On other occasions, Ellen would crouch and hide in her dressing room, tears rolling down her face as raised voices and smashing glass, once again, filled the air. Sometimes it would all go quiet, and the front door would slam as her father left, leaving behind the sound of her mother’s sobbing. Once, she had crept through to her parents’ bedroom when all the arguing had stopped, to find her mother pinned down on the bed by her father. Her mother was moaning, and her father’s hair fell forward, as he thrust
in to her mother violently. Her mother’s long red nails were raking down his back, as her voice raised to a scream. Ellen had turned, terrified, and scuttled back to her room in horror. No, she vowed to herself then, if that was what marriage was about, she would have none of it. The next day, she had scrutinized their faces for signs of the night before, something that would tell her how they had ended their row, but everything appeared normal, her mother teasing him, and his mood genial and cheerful, leaving her more confused than ever.

  The phone rang and interrupted Sarah’s continuing saga concerning the man from the wine bar. Ellen was relieved by the call, as her assistant’s conversation was awfully boring. Sarah left the office as she began to talk.

  A smooth deep voice was saying her name. Ellen responded politely, her mind working over time trying to place the voice.

  “You are a difficult woman to get hold of.”

  “Am I?” She frowned.

  “And nothing would give me greater pleasure than to get a hold of you, young lady.”

  Ellen was stunned into silence. She had no idea who the caller was, or what to say in response.

  “I have a table booked at the Ritz tonight, as I have a meeting in St. James. We could meet at eight.”

  “Are you sure you have the right number?” Ellen twirled the phone cord around her finger as she spoke.

  “I’m sure I have...this is Ellen, isn’t it?”

  “Yes...” She was still puzzled.

  “Well, we arranged to meet for dinner at the party last week.”

  “We did? I’m sorry, who’s speaking?”

  “Oh, this is Matt, Matt Mellor. I feel rather silly, and if I am honest, I have obviously placed too much importance on our meeting at the party.”

  “I’m sorry Matt. I do remember talking to you, but I certainly don’t remember arranging to meet you again.”

  “Well, we left it that I would call you to confirm my London meeting, and that it would most like be today, tonight in fact, at the Ritz.”

  “Hmm, really? That’s strange, as I am not normally a dinner date person. I could probably manage a lunch date sometime and preferably with a bit more notice than a few hours.”

  “Ok, how about lunch today?” he asked, with laughter in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, that is out of the question. It’s too short of notice.” She replied sarcastically, “There is no way I could reschedule at this point, nor would I. What about next week sometime?”

  “Look Ellen, I want to see you again, and soon. There must be some time you can allot for me in your busy schedule.”

  “I’m sorry Matt. I have to go. I can’t talk right now.” She looked up as Sarah was coming back into her office. “But thanks anyway.”

  “But...” She replaced the receiver before Matt could finish, and just as Sarah started talking.

  “I’ve just got the photos for the fashion double page spread. They’re fabulous. Kelly actually took them on a cruise liner, a fabulous ship called the Emerald Queen.

  She held them out to Ellen. They were excellent. The tanned models were striking poses around the pool in a bright array of diaphanous dresses; the blue sky and sun sparkling on the waves giving a spectacular background. Kelly had positioned some of the better looking crew against the ship’s railing which added more depth and further interest to the pictures. One picture had the captain smiling happily, as the model looked seductively at him.

  “Mmm, they’re good. Send them down to Sabrina, will you? She can choose the best ones for her layout. Oh, and Sarah? That meeting with the designers, can you think of an excuse for me, and postpone it? I’ve got to see Julian about changing the cover photo slightly and then I am off to lunch.” Sarah nodded and walked out of the office with her.

  Returning to the office after lunch, Ellen was met with the air of excitement. Everyone looked up when she entered and began whispering wildly. Her whole office was filled from floor to ceiling with flowers, cuddly stuffed animals, helium balloons with trailing satin ribbons, every surface had bouquets of roses on them, and placed in the middle of her now covered with flowers desk, was a Fortnum and Mason’s picnic hamper; the largest she had ever seen. Its contents of caviar, champagne, truffles and additional delicacies displayed beautifully. It was as though someone had gone into a shop and basically bought the entire contents, and filled her office with them all.

  “What on earth...?” At first she was amazed and then she quickly became annoyed; underneath all this frivolity was all her hard work. Sarah rushed over, flustered.

  “I’m sorry Ellie, I tried to stop them, but they insisted.”

  “Who did this?”

  “We don’t know. There is a card with the hamper, but it’s sealed.” She pointed to the card and shrugged. The phone rang, and both turned to the sound. Several floating balloons had been tied to the receiver by their ribbons.

  “Hello?” As she answered the phone the balloons rose, and bounced gaily against the ceiling.

  “I hope you had a nice lunch...without me.”

  “Matt?”

  “Yes, I was thinking about you...I hope you received my little token of...”

  “YOU! Yes I have received everything, and I am furious!” Ellen spluttered into the handset. “This is an office, not a circus for your whimsical fancies.”

  “No, don’t hang up, please. If you do, I shall keep sending flowers and gifts until I receive the answer I want.”

  Ellen’s temper was rising; her eyes roamed the chaos around her.

  “I will not be blackmailed into having lunch with you!”

  “This isn’t blackmail. It’s a man who will do anything to get your attention, and I mean, anything. Besides, how can just one little hour of time spent with me be harmful?”

  “OOOOOH!” She slammed the phone down, and growled at all the mess in her office.

  “Who was it?” Sarah asked, her curiosity driving her mad.

  “Bloody Matt Mellor.”

  “Matt Mellor? “The Matt Mellor? The sexy racing driver, rich and famous, drop dead gorgeous Matt Mellor? You mean him? Actually him?”

  “Yes, that’s him.” Ellen sighed, and sat down.

  “Wow!” Sarah moved a cuddly toy off the chair and sat down too. “What does he want?” She looked at Ellen sideways as though daring not to ask. There was a little jealousy in her eyes.

  “Lunch.”

  “Lunch? That’s all?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well accept! You have to!”

  “I’m not sure. I just have this feeling, that’s all.”

  “Oh believe me, lots of women have that feeling about him, but not many are lucky enough to get to act it out!”

  “No you don’t understand. I don’t mean that! It’s just something about him that makes me feel uncomfortable.” Sarah waved her hand in the air to dismiss her.

  “I would love to feel that discomfort. He’s just so flaming sexy. He’s sex on legs.”

  “I think that is what concerns me.”

  “You are being paranoid. Go out with him. Have a good time. It’s not as if he is going to ask you to marry him, it’s only lunch, after all.” She sighed. “I wish I could go out with him, but he didn’t ask me...”

  Ellen reached through the flowers and the tissue paper of the gifts to find her diary. She was busy every day except for Thursday, and even her weekend was busy with a shopping spree, retail therapy with Delia.

  “Hmm.” She picked up the phone and dialled the number she had found on the card in the picnic hamper. She heard his voice answer. “I’ll meet you Thursday at 1 p.m. Revolving sign at Scotland Yard.” Before he had a chance to say anything, she hung up.

  “Good.” Sarah folded her arms, and got up to leave, but turned before she left, “But why the revolving sign at Scotland Yard?” she asked.

  “Because I don’t want any funny business. It’s hardly romantic there, is it?”

  Chapter Two - Dean

  Dean sat deep in thought. His
fingers, acting with a life of their own, were drumming on the shiny mahogany surface of his desk. He was oblivious to the mound of papers piled before him. The figures in the documents were not good. There had been quite a downturn in business lately, and he had to find a solution. The yacht design was taking more of his finances than he had budgeted for, and the various delays hadn’t helped either. A shaft of sunlight shone in the room from the window behind him, casting a temporary halo around his head. It dimmed slowly as a cloud covered the sun. The telephone rang and broke his thoughts with its shrill insistent ringing.

  “Dean.”

  “Yes?”

  “Ken here. Is there any chance of you coming out here? We have a couple of problems that can’t be solved over the phone. I have been going over the specs again for the interior, and we might have overlooked a couple of things, but before I do anything I’d like you here for your opinion.”

  “Uh, hold on a minute.” He lifted his leather bound desktop diary out from underneath some papers and flipped through the pages until he reach his schedule for the next few weeks. “When were you thinking of?”

  “Asap.”

  “Oh. I’ll have to reschedule a few meetings, but I should be able to make it there for the end of this week. That’s the earliest, I am afraid.”

  “Hmm. Okay, let me have your flight details, and I’ll have someone waiting for you at the airport.”

  “Okay, see you then.” Dean hung up and turned to look at the now greying sky, clouds were rolling in, and what had previously been a clear blue sky was now gloomy and dull. He hoped it wasn’t indicative of his future, but it matched his present mood perfectly.

  Knocking the desk leg with his foot, and standing up, he paced the room like a caged animal. He disliked travelling anywhere, especially now, when he’d found it was difficult to even find the funds for the trip. Quickly pulling up his contact list on his computer, he highlighted all those he would arrange a meeting with, possible investors, silent partners, and people who had said they were looking to buy his company from him in the past.