Body Line

by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

  ‘Of course,’ said Slider graciously, as though the thought had never crossed his mind.

  ‘Well, I’d seen David in there a few times,’ she went on, mollified. ‘He brought other men in – clients of his, I suppose. Lots of blokes did that. Usually it was foreigners they brought – Arabs and Chinese mostly. Entertaining them to get their business – drinks, nice meal, and a visit to a club. Anyway, this night, David came in alone. He was at a table on his own and he sort of caught my eye and nodded to me so I went over. He bought a bottle of champagne straight off – nothing mean about him – and we sat chatting, and I thought he was really nice, charming, you know, and well spoken. And lovely manners. When I had to go he stood up when I left the table. I mean, you can’t buy manners like that. And he was a fantastic listener.’

  He’d need to be, Slider thought, but he didn’t say it.

  ‘I always wanted to go out with a doctor,’ Cat concluded.

  ‘He told you he was a doctor?’ Janey Mackers, Connolly thought, could this bloke be any more obvious?

  ‘First thing,’ she said proudly. ‘Said he was a doctor, but not NHS. Private medicine, that’s what he said. A consultant.’

  ‘What in?’ Slider asked.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘What branch of medicine was he a consultant in?’

  ‘I told you,’ she said. ‘Private medicine.’ Slider let it go. ‘So when I had to go back for my second set he asked if I would join him for supper when I got off, and it went on from there. He took me to another club for supper – like I said, nice manners, he knew I wouldn’t want to eat where I worked. And everything was the best – champagne, whatever I wanted off the menu, tipped the doorman, taxis everywhere. And it was cash for everything. I like that in a man – no fiddling about with credit cards. Always paid in cash, David.’ A moist sigh.

  ‘And after the supper?’ Connolly prompted.

  ‘We went back to his place. Beautiful house – I could see he must be rolling in it. Full of lovely antiques and stuff. Nice clothes, all designer labels. The next day he said he’d like to see me again and I said yes.’

  ‘Was he married?’ Connolly asked.

  ‘Excuse me! What do you take me for? Of course he wasn’t married.’

  ‘He told you that, did he?’

  Cat fixed her with a flat stare. ‘There’s no woman’s stuff in that house – not in the bedroom or the bathroom. There was no woman living there, I could see that right away.’

  Fair point, Slider thought. She had more intelligence than he had credited her with. ‘We need to know, you see,’ he said to take the sting out of it, ‘who his next of kin was. Did he mention any relatives?’

  ‘We didn’t talk about that sort of thing. Well, to be honest, we didn’t do that much talking.’

  ‘So you’ve been seeing him for a couple of months?’ Connolly picked up after a beat.

  ‘Yes,’ she said; but then some impulse of honesty made her add, ‘Well, twice a week. On my Jiffies nights. He comes in for my last set and we go out for a meal and then back to his place.’ She seemed to think this sounded inadequate, and added defiantly, ‘But we were going to see more of each other. We were going to go away for a weekend to really get to know each other – that’s what he said – only we hadn’t fixed on the date yet.’ Her face crumpled. ‘Now I suppose it’ll never happen.’

  You suppose? Connolly thought. Unless you’re into necrophilia . . .

  ‘Did he tell you anything about his work?’ Slider asked, to distract her.

  ‘Not really. I wasn’t that interested, tell you the truth. Doctor stuff gives me the creeps.’

  ‘Then why did you always want to go out with a doctor?’ Connolly couldn’t help asking.

  ‘Because they’re professionals, not just blokes with a job. And they have scads of money. He was really generous – bought me lovely presents. Always had something for me when we met – chocolates, smellies, lovely undies. He bought me this watch.’ She extended her arm. ‘I never take it off. Those are real diamonds. And he paid cash for it, too. That’s how well off he was.’

  ‘It’s grand,’ Connolly said, with a ring of authenticity in her voice. It was a nice watch.

  ‘But it wasn’t just the money. Professionals know important people. I thought he’d be able to introduce me to them, help my career.’

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘Well, not yet,’ she said impatiently. ‘I hadn’t been going out with him that long. But he was going to. He said he thought I’d make a brilliant actress. Said he knew loads of high-up people – professionally, I mean. He was going to help me get an agent. And he was going to take me to this big promotional party thing, at this hospital, so I could meet the right people and be seen. Oh, yeah, wait – I remember now! He said he worked at this hospital in Stansted. That’s where this party was going to be. With all celebrities and that.’

  ‘Stansted?’ Slider queried. ‘Did he say the name of the hospital?’

  ‘I can’t remember. I don’t think so.’

  ‘And he never said what sort of medicine he practised? Neurology, orthopaedics, whatever?’

  ‘No. I never asked.’

  Never mind. It would be among his papers, Slider thought. ‘Would you like to tell me about this morning?’ he asked gently, and at once an alarmed look came to her eyes, and she leaned back against the pillows and twisted the fold of the sheet between her fingers.

  ‘This morning. Yes. Well. He got up early, said he had to go in to work. Five o’clock! I mean, we hadn’t long been asleep, and he gets up at five. Fair go, he says to me I can sleep a bit longer, but I was awake anyway. No, wait – he had a phone call. That’s what woke me up. The phone went off about ten to five, he listens a minute, rings off, and goes into his dressing-room and rings someone on his mobile. I mean, what’s that all about?’

  ‘Did you hear any of the conversation?’ Connolly asked.

  ‘What d’you think I am? I don’t earwig.’

  ‘It might be very important,’ Slider suggested.

  ‘I didn’t really hear anything,’ she said, mollified. ‘It was just like hello, yes, no, all right – that sort of thing. But when he came back into the bedroom he looked sort of worried, and said he had to go in to work. He said I could sleep a bit longer while he got ready – I never knew a bloke take so long getting washed and dressed and everything. I mean, I’m quicker, putting on a full face! But I have to say he’s always beautifully turned out. Immaculate. Every hair just right. Anyway, he says I’ve got to leave when he does. He’s never left me in the house without him. He said the burglar alarm was too complicated for me to set.’

  Modern burglar alarms weren’t complicated to set, Slider thought. More likely it was just natural caution. There were many reasons for not leaving a girl you’d only known a few weeks alone in your pad.

  ‘So what happened next?’ he prompted her.

  ‘Well, he’d done all his bathroom stuff and he was getting dressed. I took the chance to get in the bathroom for a pee, and when I came out he was in trousers and shirt and picking out a tie, and he says to me I’d better get dressed because he’ll be going soon. Well, I was just in this bathrobe he lends me.’ She looked across at it, lying on the back of the chair in the corner of the room – dark blue velvet towelling, thick and plushy – and her lips trembled at this reminder of him.

  ‘Did he say where he was going?’ Slider asked quickly, to keep up her momentum.

  ‘No, he just said to work. The hospital, I suppose. Anyway, then there’s this ring at the doorbell.’

  ‘Do you know what time that was?’

  ‘I dunno, but it must have been about a quarter past six, because he’d said he was leaving at half past and he was all but ready.’

  ‘How did he react when the bell went?’ Connolly asked.

  ‘Dunno, really.’ She frowned in thought. ‘He didn’t say anything, just went downstairs.’

  ‘Do you think he was expecting it?’
>
  ‘Maybe. He wasn’t that surprised, really.’

  ‘He wasn’t anxious, or afraid?’

  ‘I dunno. I don’t think so. Well, like I said, he’d been a bit worried since the phone call, but not, like, sweating it. Just – thoughtful, sort of. Anyway, so he goes downstairs and I hear him opening the front door, and talking to someone. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I’d gone to the door of the bedroom, but I could just hear, like, the murmur of voices. And then – and then—’ She had come to the hard part. Her eyes were wide and staring. ‘I heard this gunshot.’

  ‘How did you know that’s what it was?’ Slider asked.

  ‘I dunno really. I just knew. I watch a lot of cop shows on the telly,’ she explained. ‘It was a gunshot. With a silencer.’

  ‘Just one shot?’

  She nodded. ‘And then a sort of thump, like someone falling down. I knew it was David. I knew someone’d shot him. I started shaking all over. I wanted to go downstairs to him, but when I got to the top of the stairs I see this sort of shadow move and I knew the killer was still there. And then I realized if he knew I was in the house he’d come after me next. So I ran back in the bedroom, and I see his mobile, where he’d left it on the bedside table, and I grabs it to ring 999, but then I hear the bannister creak and I know this man’s coming upstairs. God, I was scared! I was gonna hide in the bathroom but I realize he’ll come in there looking for me and I’d be trapped. I could lock the door but if he’s a big bloke he could kick it open. Then I think of the balcony. The door was open – he always opens it when he gets up, to air the room, he says. If I get out there I can climb over the railings and, like, let myself down by my arms and then drop the last bit. It’s not gonna be that far to drop, like six feet or something.’

  She gulped for air, her hands still now, but gripping the sheet so hard her knuckles were white. There was a sheen of sweat on her face.

  ‘I could hear his feet on the stairs so I get out on the balcony. There’s this stupid plant in a pot and I have to get past it. I climb over the railings at the side. I’m still crouching there, trying to sort me feet out when he comes into the bedroom.’

  ‘You saw him?’

  ‘Just, like, this shape in the doorway. He comes into the room. I could hear him opening drawers, looking for something. I hear him go in the bathroom and come out again. Then I think: if he comes to the balcony door he’ll see me. I thought I was going to die. I can’t tell you – it was like I could feel that bullet going into me. So I let myself down quick on my arms. God, it hurt, like having my arms pulled out. It looks easy when they do it in the films. And then he was at the balcony door and I sort of froze.’

  ‘Why didn’t you drop and make a run for it?’ Connolly asked.

  ‘I was too scared. All I could think was keep still, girl, keep quiet, maybe he won’t find you. If he’d come out on the balcony he’d have seen me, but he just stood at the door, and that stupid plant hid my hands, hanging on to the railings. And then this pigeon flew down on the railings, making this noise with its wings. I nearly screamed, it frit me so much. The pigeon sees him and flies off, and I hear this beep, like an alarm on a watch. And he goes. I’m gonna let go then and drop, but me hands have kind of frozen up, and I can’t make them let go. And I’m nearly crying with fright now because he’s come out of the front door, and if he looks up he’ll see me. But he walks off the other way, and when he turns the corner my hands give up on their own and I fell down into this bush.’

  She stopped abruptly, and tried to reach out for the glass of water on the cabinet beside her, but her hands were shaking too much. Connolly got up and did the honours, and gave her a tissue to wipe the sweat from her face.

  ‘You’re doing really well,’ Slider said. ‘Take a minute to catch your breath.’

  ‘You were really brave,’ Connolly cooed to her, proffering the water again. ‘Fantastic, really.’

  Cat turned her eyes up at her. ‘You think so?’ she whispered.

  ‘You were brilliant. I could never be that brave. I’d fall apart.’ Slider thought this an unwise thing for a police officer to say, but it seemed to do the trick, and Cat took a steadier breath and seem ready to go on.

  ‘So let me help you along for the last bit,’ Connolly said when she resumed her seat. ‘You knocked on next door’s window . . .?’

  ‘I could see them behind the glass, looking out. They must have heard me fall in the bush. I kind of staggered over and banged on it and said something – I can’t remember what. They looked shit scared. But they let me in. I can’t remember much after that. I kind of went to pieces.’

  ‘And no wonder. You’d done so well,’ Connolly said.

  ‘Just one more little bit,’ Slider said, ‘and then we’ll let you rest. About this man. What can you tell me about him? Did you know him?’

  ‘I never saw his face.’

  ‘Had you ever met any of the doctor’s friends or work colleagues?’

  ‘No. It was always just him and me.’

  ‘So, tell me what you did see of the killer.’

  ‘Just the shape of him across the room. And then when I was hanging there, he came to the balcony door, and I saw, like, his feet, between the pot and the wall.’

  ‘What kind of shoes was he wearing?’

  ‘I dunno,’ she said, seeming dazed. Then, ‘Work boots. Yeah, he had, like, work boots on. And dark-blue trousers. Not jeans. Like, Chinos.’

  ‘Good, very good,’ said Slider. ‘Now, when you saw him by the bedroom door, just the shape of him, how tall do you think he was?’

  ‘I dunno. I think he was tall. And, like, big. In the shoulders, I mean.’ She paused, thinking. ‘And when he was walking away down the road, he had a dark top on, like a bomber jacket. And dark hair.’

  ‘You’ve done very well,’ Slider said. ‘You’ve helped us a lot. And you were very brave.’

  She accepted the praise this time without pleasure. She looked at him blankly out of a blank face. ‘It doesn’t make any difference,’ she said. ‘David’s dead. I never knew anyone get killed before. Especially not like that. I can’t get my head round it.’

  ‘You couldn’t have helped him,’ Slider said.

  The pills must have been wearing off: tears began to gather in her eyes. ‘But who would do a thing like that? I mean, he’s a doctor. Who would kill a doctor?’

  ‘That’s what we mean to find out,’ Slider said.

  ‘I’m surprised at her resourcefulness,’ Slider said, when they were outside again in the chilly sunshine. ‘I imagine most people would have panicked and run into the bathroom and been trapped, but she managed to think her way through that, despite being afraid for her life.’

  ‘Fair play to her,’ Connolly said. ‘She was dumb enough about dating the doctor. Sex twice a week for the price of a meal! And phony promises to help her career. Holy God, she’d want to cop on to herself. Can you imagine her an actress?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Who would have bet ballroom dancing would become top-billing TV?’

  ‘Oh, right. I’ll give you that one.’

  ‘But given that she’d only know him a few weeks, we can’t discount the possibility that she’s a plant—’

  ‘Yeah, from the neck up!’

  ‘—or an accomplice. That she knows more about the killing than she’s saying. She came across as genuine, but we’ll need to investigate her enough to cross her off. Since you liked her so much, I’ll put you on to that.’

  ‘Thanks, boss,’ Connolly said, with commendable restraint.

  ‘And we can’t discount that it was a crime of passion.’

  ‘It sounds more like a hit man.’

  ‘Disgruntled spouses and lovers have been known to hire them. And actually,’ he corrected himself, ‘we don’t know that it was a hit man.’

  ‘A gun with a silencer?’

  ‘But we only have Miss Aude’s word for the sile
ncer.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the next-doors have heard if it wasn’t silenced?’

  ‘They’re solidly built, those houses. And you said the Firmans were deaf.’

  ‘Deaf-ish,’ she qualified, for the sake of the theory.

  ‘Besides, it’s astonishing,’ he concluded from the depth of a long experience, ‘what people don’t see and hear, even when it’s under their eyes and ears.’

  Porson was surging restlessly about his office, like an electron searching for its nucleus. Given the amount of motion relative to the observer, you’d have expected him to generate a magnetic field.

  ‘So we’re looking for a tall bloke with dark hair, and that’s it? Talk about a needle in a woodpile! You’re looking for the weapon?’

  ‘Dustbins and front gardens. But I doubt we’ll find it. From the sound of it the killer was very calm and collected, so he’s not likely to have chucked the gun away in a panic.’

  ‘Probably a rental, anyway,’ Porson grunted. ‘I hate gun crime.’

  ‘I don’t think going after the man or the gun will yield anything,’ Slider said. ‘We know the victim knew the killer—’

  ‘We do?’ Porson said sharply.

  ‘Why else would he have let him in?’

  ‘Any number of reasons,’ Porson said, though he didn’t offer any. ‘I don’t like to see you jumping to collusions. All the same,’ he added after a beat, ‘you’re probably right. Which raises some interesting questions.’

  Yes,’ said Slider. ‘It looks like a professional hit, but if he knew the killer, either he has some strange friends—’

  ‘Or some friendly enemies. What about this girl – the witness?’

  ‘I don’t think she was in on it. She seems genuinely shaken up, and her injuries are reassuringly slight. If she was involved, I’d have expected her to have been tied up, or roughed up, to establish her innocence. As it is, her story is quirky enough to sound genuine. And she seems really scared the killer will come back for her.’