“Clarify that for me,” said Cusack.
“Well we’ve all been there haven’t we? I remember one night in the heat of the moment I peed on a girl. I felt quite bad about it for a week or more. Some people do that sort of thing without batting an eyelid, but not me. Alice was a bit like that. She would go to a party and screw two or three blokes, then she would torment herself for being a slut.” Tapper laughed. “Until the next party that was.”
“Are you describing a sex addict to me?”
“Crikey, I’m no psychologist. I dunno, maybe she was. It’s like that little rhyme, ‘see the happy sex addict. She doesn’t give a damn. I wish I were a sex addict. Oh dear, perhaps I am’. We’ve all got some addiction to sex haven’t we? It’s in the genes. What do the boffins call it? Procreation of the species, something like that. The thing is though; Alice would not top herself because she indulged in something she regretted. She was happy enough that night we came back here.”
“Let’s get back to the original question. Have you any suggestions where we might look?”
“Blimey, I went off on a bit of a tangent there didn’t I?” He momentarily pushed out his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “No. As I said, I’ve chewed over the same thing for months, and got absolutely fucking nowhere.”
Collins intervened once again. “Do you know anything about a young woman called Aisha? She was a friend of Alice’s who worked at the Foreign Office.”
“Yeah, she was on the Brighton trip.”
Not Brighton again, thought Collins. Why do all these sex maniacs like Brighton so much?
“We’re listening,” said Cusack.
“Mel and I were roped in at the last minute. Another couple dropped out but the hotel room was already paid for. Alice phoned me and asked if we would like to join them. Well, you don’t say no to a trip like that, do you?”
“When was this?”
“May sometime, definitely before the wedding. It was on my list to tell you. You know, you asked about my last five social outings with Alice. Somehow we got sidetracked, didn’t we?”
“We did,” nodded Cusack.
“The call came literally a day before the trip. It must have been the Thursday afternoon I guess. We did the picnic basket and champagne routine on the way down on the Friday evening.”
“It was an evening in May and you stopped for a picnic on the way?” Cusack shook his head in disbelief.
“Nah. We had the picnic on the train. You should try it sometime. It’s a laugh having a picnic and popping champagne corks on a train full of knackered-looking commuters. It’s the in thing to do at the moment.”
“Okay, so there was you, Alice, Aisha and…”
“Alice’s friends Joanne and Natalie, and two blokes.”
“Joanne? Would that be Joanne Masters?” asked Collins.
“Blimey, how did you know that? You’re not as daft as you look.”
Collins ignored the insult. “Do you have a surname for Natalie?”
“Gordin. With an I, not an O. Most people call her Ginnie.”
“And why would that be?”
“Gordons. It’s the name of a gin, ain’t it. And she is quite partial to the stuff.”
“How about the two blokes?” asked Cusack.
“Ah, that’s more difficult, I’m not so interested in them, if you get my drift?”
“I get your drift, but tell us what you can.”
“One was a little older than Alice would normally associate with. Arab-looking guy, who took the piss out of me when I couldn’t pronounce his name properly. I ended up calling him Hissy. It’s like a word association thing I do. Arabs ride camels, camels hiss, do you follow?”
“I follow.”
“Hasem,” said Collins.
“There you go again, that’s amazing.”
“So his name was Hasem then?”
“Yes. You’re a clever cunt you are.”
“Try not to swear at my senior officer,” laughed Cusack.
“Oh, I didn’t mean any offence. It was a compliment.”
Collins’ face did not look like the face of a man who had just been paid a compliment.
Cusack quickly moved the questioning on. “The other guy?”
“Mark. Now why did a target just come into mind? Oh yeah, the old joke?”
“No jokes Mr Tapper.”
“Mark Vosper. Mods rode Vespas, didn’t they? I remember imagining him riding a scooter through Belfast with a target on the back of his parka. Well, it’s an RAF symbol, but it looks like a target, doesn’t it. My dad used to tell a joke about; why don’t you get any Mods in Belfast?”
“So his name was Mark Vospa, spelt with an A on the end.”
“Yes, but no. Mark Vosper with an ER on the end. Then again, it could be an A on the end. I never wrote to the guy, did I?”
Cusack paused to write all four names down. He then asked: “Do you remember the name of the hotel?”
“No. It was on the left hand side of one of those Georgian terraces that runs up from the West Pier end of the prom.”
Cusack smiled and shook his head.
“Right, got you,” said Tapper. “That doesn’t narrow it down much, does it?”
“No, but never mind. Tell me what could you see out of the window?”
“The back of another hotel.”
“So your room was at the back of the building?”
“Yes.”
“Think about walking along the prom to it. Or where you came out if you went the other way. Was there a pub nearby?”
“Top of the road and turn right. There was a pub on the corner. If you turned left there was like a green with shops round it, a few blocks down. Oh, there was a child’s swing in the garden of the hotel behind ours. This is clever this is. I thought I had no idea where the place was. What’s all this got to do with the price of skunk anyway?”
“I need this information in case we need to check the names of people with the hotel.”
“Mr and Mrs Dobson.”
“Is that who owned the hotel?”
“No. Mel and I checked in as Mr and Mrs Dobson.”
“Why not Mr and Mrs Tapper?”
“I dunno really. I’ve always checked me and my birds into hotels as Mr and Mrs Dobson, since I was about eighteen.”
“Who did you replace on the trip?”
“Ooh, now you’re asking. Nah, no idea.”
“Do you know if they dropped out due to some kind of argument?”
“Nah.”
“No, you don’t know, or no, there was another reason for them dropping out?”
“Nah, I don’t know. Alice never said anything about any falling out. Jo might know though.”
“We’ll ask her then.”
“Aisha,” said Collins sharply.
“That’s right, Aisha,” replied Tapper.
“Tell me more about Aisha.”
“She worked at the embassy with Alice.”
Collins did not correct Tapper’s error. “And…”
“Had a permanent suntan, if you know what I mean? To me she seemed more bi than Alice.”
Cusack cut in. “Alice was bisexual?”
“Yeah. Well, not the Full Monty, but she indulged. More than just bi-curious. They never use that expression about blokes do they? Funny that. Anyway, when we were out and about in Brighton, I got the impression that Aisha was quite full on with it. She even hit on Mel one night in a club. Mel let her have a quick squeeze but made it clear that was as far as it went. Shame really, it might have made the weekend even more fun than it was.”
“Do you know anything about the lunch dates Alice and Aisha had?”
“Come again?”
“The two of them used to meet for lunch. I know you thought they worked at the same place, but that’s not right. We’ve been told they used to meet in coffee houses for lunch.”
“Ha, got you. You for coffee, as the Chinaman said.”
“Please be serious Mr Tapper. Th
is is important.”
“You’re not following are you? I don’t think they met for lunch. I got the idea that Aisha’s flat was close to where they worked, but maybe you know more about that than I do. The point is that Alice did say how nice Aisha’s flat was, and how she had an enormous bed. I assume it was a case of let’s be friends and go for coffee.”
“You think they went for sex, not lunch?”
“Mmmm.” He nodded. “That’s right.”
Cusack turned his head towards Collins. “That could explain us drawing a blank at Costa Coffee.”
“Tell me what you know about Hasem?” asked Collins.
“First thing to say is that dude is up his own arsehole. I didn’t take to him at all. To be honest I didn’t talk to him much when we were out at night but he was giving it large about the government’s economic policies when we were having a drink one lunchtime. Well, to be spot on, it was Saturday lunchtime. The ladies were shopping and we were drinking. I ask you, what’s all that about? You don’t want to be talking politics when you’re on a group dirty weekend in Brighton, do you?”
“I guess not.” Cusack stroked his chin. “Did Alice have sex with Hasem that weekend?”
“No. Mark was the lucky bastard that got to share a bed with them two Saturday night. Hissy tried like, but if I read it right, Aisha was having none of it.”
“Alice shared a room with Aisha?”
“Yeah. As I said, they were more than just good mates. I tell you what, I’ll run through it for you. Friday night we were all a bit knackered, so it wasn’t an all-nighter. We went for a drink in a pub, picked up some takeaways, and then went to a nightclub until about two. I slept with Mel, Alice with Aisha, Mark and Jo shared a twin and Hasem had a single room, which was almost up on the roof. By Saturday things started to loosen up. We started drinking early, ate at a big Italian restaurant in a lively area between the main shopping street and the Palace Pier, and then carried on drinking in another nightclub. That’s when the liaisons started to form. Mel and I had the biggest room, which is why we played a few little games in our room before breaking out to the other rooms. Alice and Aisha dragged Mark away, leaving us four. Hasem finally got the message and left, Jo stayed another hour or so and then went back to her and Mark’s room. I hope that helps.”
“Not the most popular guy on the trip then?”
“What? Hissy?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why was he invited then?”
“Ask Aisha. She organised it.”
“We will.”
Collins decided they needed to regroup. “Thank you Mr Tapper. You and Mel don’t have any plans to go anywhere do you?”
“Nah. Just the pub after work. Why?”
“I may need to talk to you again in a day or two. Do you mind asking Mel if I could have a chat? It shouldn’t take long.”
Tapper put the palms of his hands on the table and lifted himself up from his seat. “Mel, you’re wanted.”
Mel Tapper immediately walked over and sat down.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing to worry about,” Collins responded to the anxious look on her face. “Your husband has told us about your trip to Brighton with Alice and Aisha.”
“I heard him telling you,” she nodded.
“Well. You seemed to have spent some time with the two women when Jeff was in the pub. Presumably there were also other times when you chatted with the women and left the guys to their conversations.”
“Yes.”
“In your opinion, were Aisha and Alice an item?”
“Intimate but not an item.”
“By intimate, you mean they slept together.”
“Definitely.”
“Okay. How about…”
“But they both liked sex with men,” she added.
“Yes. How about the relationship between Aisha and Hasem? Have you an opinion on that?”
“Friends, but not lovers, is how I would put it. Though I sensed there was once something between them.”
“A bit frosty then.”
“Yes.”
“Now, I asked Jeff if he might be able to suggest someone we should talk to in relation to Alice’s death, can I ask you the same question?”
“No. If Aisha had been killed I would say put the thumbscrews on Hasem, but not Alice. Even I liked Alice, despite the fact that she fucked my husband without my consent.”
Collins gulped noticeably. “You don’t think Aisha would have been involved?”
“No. They enjoyed each other’s company on many levels.”
“Thank you. That’s all for now.” Collins closed his notebook and turned to Cusack. “Time for that lunch you talked about I think.”
“I could do you something,” said Mel, “on the house.”
“Thank you but no. I would only start asking you more questions.” Collins was already up on his feet.
“Thank you. Have a good day,” said Cusack.
Once they were out on the pavement Cusack asked about their next move. “What is it, lunch at a chippy and then over to the Foreign Office to arrest Aisha?”
“No. I’m taking this slow, there’s no rush. We are going to keep digging here until the well runs dry. Then we are going to put our information on the table with Doyley’s information and brainstorm it. I don’t blame myself, but I am left wondering what would have happened if I didn’t already know where this Aisha woman worked the first time I called at this café.”
“You were here to eliminate Tapper. We can’t rule him out, but it still seems to me that you got it right.”
“Oh, I got it right, I’m sure of that. Hindsight is still a bastard though. If I had asked Tapper back in October, did he know who Aisha was, would our Spanish lady still be alive?”
“Hasem is the killer, isn’t he sir?”
“Maybe he killed Alice, but he was in England when Ortega died.”
“In it together then?”
“Possibly. I told Aisha about Spain.”
“What?”
“That was a quote.”
“Right, I’m with you now sir. I know a good chippy no more than a mile from here if that whets your appetite.”
“It does. So does that Fullers sign on the pub over there.”
“Why not?”
“We’re on duty.”
“So we are sir.”
“It’s not Greek is it?”
A blank expression crossed Cusack’s face.
“This chippy of yours, it’s not Greek is it?”
“I think it is, but trust me.”
“What, like Hazel trusted you?”
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“Apologies, that was unprofessional.”
“That’s okay, comments like that keep me on the straight and narrow nowadays. I don’t even envy guys like Tapper anymore.”
“Pleased to hear it. Keep it that way.”
“Though you can see why Aisha wanted to squeeze them,” joked Cusack.
“Aye, they are very inviting. If you taped Mel to the bottom of a lilo, she wouldn’t stay underwater very long.”
“Here you are Mr Doyle, English breakfast, two eggs just as you like them.”
“Thank you Alfonso. Can I just ask…?”
“Eat and then ask. You English are not nice to your stomachs.” He patted his own stomach, which was hardly flat but it was not bad for a man in his fifties that worked in a bar.
It was later as Alfonso placed a second pot of tea on the table that Doyle finally started to unload his questions. “This English politician, Douglas Phillips, do you know what he looks like?”
“Of course.”
“How do you know?”
“I see him through my telescope. He visit Señora Ortega like clockwork, first weekend of every second month. He was always floating around on the swimming bed.”
“One of the lilos?”
“I think you call it airbed. What is lilo?”
“Lilo, airbed. The same thing.”
“Lilo. I see.”
“And you watched Douglas Phillips through your telescope?”
Alfonso turned red with embarrassment. “No, I watch and wait. He and Señora Ortega play in pool, many times.”
“You watched them have sex in the pool?”
“Sí.” He looked sheepish.
“Was he in the village after the party? The Sunday, Monday or Tuesday?”
“I no see him.”
Doyle poured some tea into his cup. As he picked up a small silver pot containing hot milk, his mind flipped back to the idea of blackmail being embroiled in this somewhere. “Do you have any pictures of Señora Ortega and Douglas Phillips together?” he asked.
“No.”
“No need to look insulted, it was just a thought.”
“Señor Parazo could have.”
“Where does he live?”
“No, I get them for you.”
“This is a murder investigation Alfonso.”
“Arrest me then.” Alfonso called his bluff, knowing it was an unofficial investigation.
“You win.” Doyle held out the palms of his hands. “Hang on a minute. This Parazo guy wouldn’t have photos of Kamela, would he?”
“Slowly, Mr Doyle.”
“Would Señor Parazo have photos of Kamela?”
“I will ask.”
“Thank you.” An extremely satisfied smile crossed Doyle’s face as he picked up his cup of tea.
While Doyle was finishing his tea, Aisha Al Nuaimi was checking in her single large suitcase at the Etihad Airways desk. It had been hard to leave most of her personal belongings behind, but she knew that if all went to plan, she could afford to replace everything five times over. Most of what was in her case was there to help her carry out her mission, the sexy dresses, the fetish underwear, the burka, the cut-throat razor, and numerous other items she put in just in case her plan needed to be adapted.
There was no way anyone at the airport would know what she was up to. As far as they were concerned, she was just someone visiting relatives in the United Arab Emirates and she would be back in the country in two weeks time. That did not stop her feeling incredibly anxious as the woman flipped open her passport and punched away at a computer keyboard.
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