by Sabina Manea
‘That certainly adds up. I’ve finally got a good feeling about this whole sorry affair. Adam killed the old bird, and now he’s dead himself. Danny goes down for his murder. Case closed. We all go home.’ He crossed his arms resolutely.
Lucia’s expression made it patently clear that she wasn’t going to indulge him. ‘I don’t buy it. Danny’s a scumbag and a drug dealer, but to go from that to killing a person is a touch far-fetched. Besides, what are you going to do when you search his house and van, and you don’t find any traces of 1080? I’d stick with the drugs charges if I were you.’
‘OK, so we haven’t filled in all the gaps yet. But if he’s done as much as look at that poison, we’ll get him, don’t you worry. The Super wants me to close this case and move on – too many resources spent running around pretending I’m Poirot, she said. I know I’ve broken just about every rule in the book, but even I can’t keep this circus going any longer.’
‘When are you speaking to the other suspects?’
‘Any time now. Danny’s being covered. That only leaves Emilia and Mrs Byrne.’
‘What about Glover?’
‘What about him? He wasn’t anywhere near the house.’
‘Don’t you think it’s worth at least a phone call? To see how he reacts to the news.’
The policeman huffed impatiently. ‘I’m starting to see where the Super is coming from. You’re a drain on the public purse, Miss Steer.’
‘But you’ll ring him?’
‘Yes, OK, just to get you off my back. Now scoot off. I’ve got some statements to take.’
Lucia stood still. ‘There’s no way I’m going anywhere. Nina’s on her way. You’re going to tell them she’s your new DS, and I’m helping you with your enquiries. We’re sitting in on the interviews.’
‘You must be joking. I’m not having you two compromise my investigation. I’m not one for formalities, but this really takes the biscuit.’
‘Suit yourself if that’s how you want it. But remember one thing – you haven’t got a shred of evidence against Danny Garrett. An unsolved case is going to be a bigger drain on your resources than letting us in.’ It was her turn to cross her arms and stare at him defiantly.
‘OK. But not a peep from either of you. I’m doing all the talking,’ he finally replied, cornered and defeated by her determination.
‘Deal,’ said Lucia, wholly unconcerned about the possible consequences of his transgressions, just as her phone rang. Nina was outside. She had already been prepped to turn up in character before Lucia had even asked the inspector.
Mrs Byrne sat on the threadbare drawing room sofa, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Nina, Lucia and DCI Carliss occupied the remaining armchairs, directly facing her. Nina looked the part – no make-up, severe expression, and a flammable navy-blue trouser suit. She clutched her pad and pen officiously. Lucia looked as sympathetic as could be.
Carliss opened gingerly. ‘Mrs Byrne, I appreciate this is very distressing, but it would be useful to get the facts while they’re still fresh in your mind. Can you take me through Adam’s movements yesterday?’
Mrs Byrne had aged ten years since Lucia last saw her. Her eyes were puffy and red. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll do my best to help. He… Adam was out for most of the day. He came back around five – I was having a cup of tea in the kitchen. He joined me, and said he’d be around for dinner. We haven’t seen each other much of late, and I was looking forward to a bit of company.’ She looked like she was about to burst into tears.
Nina whipped a box of tissues from her handbag and offered it to the housekeeper.
‘I’m sorry. First the Professor, and now this…’ Mrs Byrne gathered herself together as best she could. ‘I said I’d have dinner ready for seven. He went up to his room, and I didn’t hear anything after that. Next thing I know, I’m waiting and waiting. When I went up, it was just gone half past. He was lying on his bed. I thought he’d fallen asleep at first, but then I got closer.’ Her voice trembled. ‘His eyes and mouth were wide open, and that… stuff was on his bedside table. Oh, if only I’d known. I could have helped him. Persuaded him to get treatment. I let him die.’ Her resolve not to cry had been broken; she was wailing and rocking backwards and forwards, head buried in her hands.
Nina got out of her armchair and sat down gently next to the woman for comfort. ‘Mrs Byrne, it’s not your fault. Drug addiction is a tragic and complex business. We want to help, but we’re powerless. If he didn’t want to give it up, there was nothing that you or anyone else could have done. Don’t blame yourself.’
‘What time did Adam go upstairs, Mrs Byrne?’ continued Carliss.
The housekeeper blew her nose loudly and looked a little restored. ‘Must have been sixish, or a little earlier. I don’t honestly know.’
‘Was Adam himself? Did he seem out of sorts in any way?’
‘No, he was fine. If anything, more talkative than I’d seen him in ages. You don’t think… he did it on purpose?’ Mrs Byrne let out another sob. ‘Maybe he took an overdose because he couldn’t live with himself anymore. Was that it?’
‘We don’t know for certain, but we need to consider all angles.’
The trio had decided it was best she should labour under the impression that Adam’s death had been the result of a cocaine overdose. The poison would be kept out of it, for now at least.
‘Thank you. And can you tell me your movements yesterday? Just routine, you understand.’
‘I got up at six thirty, as usual, and did a little light cleaning. There’s not much, now it’s only me and… well, only me in the house. Emilia arrived around nine thirty and went upstairs. So good of her, to soldier on with all that dusty paperwork. She came down to the garden at lunchtime for a cuppa. She ate the sandwich she’d brought with her and went back upstairs. She left shortly before Adam arrived – half past four or so.’
‘Was she in the library the rest of the time?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose she would have been. I was cleaning the kitchen. I didn’t hear any doors open or close, but I did have the hoover on for a while. After lunch, I went to tackle the gardening.’
‘So, you were outside until Adam arrived?’
‘Yes. Emilia dropped by to say she was going. She must have got bored of sitting in that horrid room all day.’
If that’s what she did, thought Lucia. Emilia could have roamed the house at her leisure, for all Mrs Byrne knew.
‘Was there anyone else in the house at any point during the day?’ asked the policeman.
‘No, not that day.’ She stopped to think. ‘Dr Glover popped in a couple of times last week. Helping Emilia with the Professor’s paperwork, he was. Very kind of him.’
‘That’s it for now, Mrs Byrne. Thank you for your time.’
When the door was firmly shut behind her, Lucia burst out. ‘That man didn’t commit suicide.’
‘You don’t think it was Mrs Byrne?’ asked Carliss. ‘Though I can’t imagine why she would want Adam dead.’
‘No, that seems unlikely. This business of Emilia being in the house, and Dr Glover dropping in – all very bizarre.’ Lucia wondered what they found so fascinating about the Professor’s papers.
‘I’m dying to meet this elusive being at last.’ Nina tidied up the tissues and readied herself for the next round.
Carliss went to fetch Emilia, who had been instructed to wait in the entrance hall until summoned. She had evidently dressed for a man’s eyes – the finely knitted green wool dress fitted her like a glove. She hadn’t banked on having female company, not that she flinched when she saw the two. The only giveaways were her frosty manner and the absence of eye contact with anyone but the policeman.
‘I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, Inspector. I see you’ve brought back-up.’ Her lips narrowed sarcastically as she crossed her shapely ankles, knowing that Carliss was struggling to keep his eyes focused on her face.
‘Yes. This is – erm – this is DS Chanler. Miss St
eer is kindly helping us with our enquiries,’ the inspector stuttered, somewhat flustered.
Lucia felt for him – he had to make something up on the spot to justify Nina’s presence as well as try to regain some ground.
‘Miss Poole, I’m fully aware these are very unpleasant circumstances, so I’ll keep my questions as brief as possible. Could you tell me your whereabouts yesterday?’ Carliss said, consulting his notebook for comfort.
‘I arrived at nine thirty, as usual, and went straight upstairs. I worked until lunch when I went down to the garden and chatted to Mrs Byrne. After that I carried on working until half past four, when I left. Does that suit your purposes?’
‘You didn’t see Adam while you were here?’
‘No.’
‘And you were here last week?’
‘Yes, on the same schedule.’
Lucia noticed that, unlike the housekeeper, Emilia’s eyes were dry and if anything, she looked bored.
‘Forgive me, Miss Poole, but you don’t seem particularly affected by your boyfriend’s death,’ continued Carliss.
Emilia shot him a condescending look. ‘How would you know how I feel, Inspector? Just because I’m not making a song and dance about his demise doesn’t mean it isn’t upsetting. In any case, he wasn’t my boyfriend. It was a casual relationship.’
Carliss squirmed in his seat. ‘How did he seem to you generally? Was anything concerning him?’
‘You mean, apart from the fact he had a cocaine habit? He was an addict. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t. He was always on edge – overtired and paranoid. I gather it doesn’t exactly aid sleep. He wasn’t any worse than normal if that’s what you’re asking.’
She looked out of the window, and Lucia sensed she was more affected than she wanted to let on. Perhaps under the flinty exterior she did have a heart after all.
After a brief pause, Emilia continued. ‘I knew it would be the death of him. Addicts are selfish. He didn’t listen to me, or anyone else.’ Her searching gaze suddenly fixed on Nina, who kept her head down and carried on taking copious notes, hoping she wasn’t attracting any attention.
‘I understand Dr Glover has been lending you a hand with the Professor’s papers. Very good of him to offer,’ noted the policeman.
She smiled benignly. ‘Yes, he’s been a great help. I think he takes a personal interest in her research – a bit of a boffin in that respect. It all looks terribly dull to me, I’m afraid. That Society of hers is welcome to all of it.’
Carliss was at a loss. ‘Thank you, Miss Poole. You’re free to go.’
They breathed a collective sigh of relief.
‘What a woman,’ exclaimed Nina. ‘And I thought Mater was terrifying.’
‘What she saw in Adam is beyond me. Still, we all have our physiological needs, and he wasn’t likely to turn her down,’ opined Lucia.
‘Still want me to call the Doc? I know what he’s going to say – same as what Emilia’s just told us,’ intervened Carliss.
‘There’s no harm in trying. And put him on speakerphone. We don’t want to miss out.’ Lucia wanted to hear his voice for herself.
By a stroke of luck, Dr Glover was between patients. Carliss was immediately warned that he had precisely five minutes of the GP’s precious time.
‘That should be plenty, Dr Glover. I have some very unpleasant news, I’m afraid, in case you haven’t heard already. Adam Corcoran was found dead last night.’
The voice on the other end didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, I know. Emilia rang me earlier. Awful business.’
‘I understand you were recently at Beatrice Hall. What was the purpose of your visit?’
‘I offered to help Emilia with tidying up the Professor’s library. It’s all going to the Collaborative Mathematical Society, and she could have done with some assistance. What has this got to do with Adam’s death?’ The voice had an unmistakable tinge of exasperation.
‘I’m simply trying to ascertain the movements of everyone who visited Beatrice Hall over the past week. Were you there yesterday?’
‘No, I had back-to-back appointments so couldn’t make it. Is there anything else, Inspector? I have a patient waiting.’
‘Thank you, Dr Glover, you’ve been most helpful.’
Carliss put the phone down and scratched his head. ‘Traipsing around the place as they’ve been, either of these two could have cut Adam’s coke with poison. The part I’m struggling with is motive, which takes me back to my original assessment – it was most likely self-inflicted.’
Lucia opened her mouth to counteract what to her was an inexcusably flippant verdict, when Nina’s phone started vibrating like an angry wasp.
‘It’s Mother.’
Bar a few acquiescing sounds, the short conversation was mostly one-sided. Nina swept up her belongings and made for the door. ‘We need to go. She’s meeting us at my place in half an hour.’
‘What’s this about? I’m in no mood for boozing in Belgravia, not with a fresh dead body on the cards,’ Carliss interrupted impatiently.
‘She can’t tell me on the phone. I can only assume she’s dug up something good. Hurry up – you don’t want to face her if you’re late.’
Chapter 31
After a twenty-minute rollercoaster ride to rival Lucia’s dangerous driving, the taxi spat them out at Lygon Place. They would have liked a little time to settle the contents of their stomachs, but they had barely taken their coats off when the doorbell rang.
‘Mater. Lovely to see you. You’ve kept us all in suspense.’
From the doorway, Virginia Lexington’s hazel eyes scanned the company her daughter was keeping and appeared to deem it satisfactory. The precision-cut cap of grey hair, wide-legged trousers and mannish shirt made for redoubtable armour. ‘Lucia, my darling. It’s been too long.’ They embraced warmly.
Nina ushered them into the house and made the requisite introductions. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Carliss, the SIO for Professor Kiseleva’s death. My mother, Virginia Lexington.’
‘Pleased to meet you, ma’am,’ Carliss said, at a loss as to how to address her.
‘Virginia, please. I’m retired – all this business of titles is behind me.’ She dismissed him with a haughty glance and marched decisively into the drawing room, which she proceeded to assess with an unequivocal scrunch of the nose. It was plain that her progeny’s taste in interiors didn’t pass muster.
Carliss tiptoed behind the group and sat down as far away from her as possible.
‘Tea?’ offered Nina.
Lucia was amused by the detective’s ill-concealed unease – it was a common enough reaction to Virginia Lexington’s presence. She must have reminded him too much of the Super. Lucia and Nina were used to the style of silent dressing-down and didn’t take it to heart.
‘No time for small talk, dear child. Since I’ve got your undivided attention, I’ll crack on. That chap Glover you had me look into has given me no end of trouble. I’ve pulled more strings than Jim Henson, but I have managed to deliver. He was in Belarus – or Byelorussia, as it then was – from 1981 to 1983. All very neat and above board – the British Council had recently set up an educational exchange programme for British doctors to travel out there and vice versa. Needless to say, Glover’s military background made him the perfect choice.’ Virginia paused and looked suspiciously around the room. ‘Sorry. Even in retirement, being listened to remains an occupational hazard. That’s why I couldn’t impart the information on the phone.’
‘I’m sure we’re perfectly safe here, Mater.’
‘Yes, I should think so. People can’t be falling over each other to manipulate the market in sprats.’
Lucia suppressed a smile. Although Virginia Lexington was very fond of her son-in-law, she couldn’t resist being amused at his line of work. She herself was from Nottinghamshire farming stock. Though she had married Guy Lexington – renowned Cambridge historian and heir to Lexington Hall – she had risen up in the diplomatic service by sh
eer determination and hard work, so the jibe was fairly innocent.
Virginia nodded pensively. ‘Of course, swapping knowledge about infection control wasn’t the real reason for Dr Glover’s presence at that end of Europe. We had a double agent in Minsk, a secretary at the ministry of health. They met under the guise that she was assisting him with his work. I don’t know her name. What I do know is that it became more than a purely professional relationship. London was getting rather antsy – there were even rumours of an engagement. Before they could reprimand him, the woman was found dead in her flat. The case was rapidly closed as suicide – the bullet went cleanly through her temple, and the gun was in her hand. Naturally, London didn’t buy it, and he was withdrawn immediately. It turns out the Belarusians had someone with an eye on her all along – a false defector, who gained her confidence and was only known as Clytemnestra. One can only assume she was a woman. And there the thread ends, I’m afraid.’
‘And the Professor?’ Carliss asked.
‘Nothing on that front beyond what you already know from Nina. Either my sources aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, or she’s covered her tracks impeccably.’
Lucia’s expression suggested she was cooking something up. ‘Clytemnestra, you said?’ She rummaged around in her bag and produced an object which she placed on the white marble coffee table. ‘Does anyone know what this is?’
Apart from Nina, they gathered around with quizzical looks.
‘Is this a trick question?’ asked Virginia, somewhat confused.
‘It’s a jazzy leafwing. The Latin name is Hypna clytemnestra,’ explained Lucia, waiting for a reaction.
Carliss recognized the black and white butterfly-shaped brooch. ‘Emilia was wearing it when we spoke to her in the library. She said it belonged to her employer. How did you get it?’ he asked.