Twisted by Lynda La Plante Read Free Book Online

he would require extensive details of his wife’s income and the value of the property and its contents. There was no point in ‘pussyfooting’ around – he had calculated that after seventeen years of marriage Marcus would easily be awarded alimony for the rest of his life. He was certain that he would be awarded half of the monies from the sale of their ‘goods and chattels’, and he would try for fifty per cent of his wife’s very successful business. Marcus did not exactly like the pugnacious and egotistical lawyer, but he had been advised to secure his services as fast as possible just in case Lena might hire him. Lyons loved the notoriety he had garnered from previous cases and he was not just an A-list divorce lawyer, but the toughest of tough operators.
    After a long lunch with Lyons Marcus had gone to meet his present girlfriend, Justine, a twenty-six-year-old, very glamorous and curvaceous blonde. She aspired to a modelling career but was working as a receptionist in a very fashionable hairdressing salon where she was also being trained by the salon’s top stylist. Justine had a list of client confirmations and cleaning up to do before she could leave with Marcus. He had been quite happy to sit in one of the comfortable chairs in the waiting area, leafing through the recent glossy magazines, with one sly eye on the other attractive stylists. They had left together just after five, and returned to her small rented flat in Pimlico. Justine shared the place with another girl who was a waitress at a restaurant, so as they arrived she was just leaving for work. They had a few glasses of wine, went to bed, had sex, and then showered together before leaving at around nine to have a curry in her local Indian restaurant. Justine was not too keen on going back to his place as she had an early start with a very important client, one they always opened specially for to give her streaks and a cut before anyone else was in the salon. Marcus dropped her off in a taxi in Pimlico and then it drove him to Mayfair. He had eaten quite a substantial lunch and then the curry, so it was no wonder he felt ill and went straight to bed.
    He was still feeling hung over but not as bad as when he had first called Lena. He took a cold shower, and, intent on doing as she had asked, began to seriously try and recall who Amy might have gone to see. There had been no note or signs that she had been at the flat, but he had another look around before he went into her bedroom. It would be quite difficult for him to know if she had been there while he was not at home. Her room was, as always, a shambolic mess. Unlike his wife, he had no housekeeper or cleaner and attempted to manage the place himself. There was a small utility room with a washing machine and dryer, and what clothes he needed washing he chucked in there, but bed linen went to the laundry, along with all his good shirts and dry-cleaning. Amy often didn’t bother even straightening her bed, which irritated him, but he didn’t make a thing of it. All her clothes were left in untidy heaps, and books and DVDs were stacked beside the bed. Shoes and boots were piled outside the wardrobe, the doors of which were usually open, and on her dressing table was a jumble of makeup, perfumes, and magazines. Posters of her latest craze, the vampire movies, lined the walls, and she had a big thing for a new, very young group, and had forced him to watch them on TV. It was the floppy-haired lead singer who was the big attraction, and Justin Bieber had lost his place as her favourite.
    He tried to recall his exact weekend activities. On the Saturday, as he had told Lena, he had been to a football match. It was a last-minute decision as he’d bought a single ticket from a guy in the pub who couldn’t go. He’d then gone out with friends for hamburgers, taken in a movie with Justine and stayed the night with her. He had told Lena he was at a male friend’s to avoid listening to her making cutting