Human Face
Page 16
Strang nodded. ‘Very wise.’
‘Yes. There’s this service station not far from the bridge with a cafe at the back – very nice, not the usual stuff at all, really proper home-baking. So we stopped—’
‘We?’ he said sharply. ‘You weren’t alone?’
She flushed scarlet. ‘Oh – sorry, yes, of course I was alone. Why did I say that?’
Why indeed, he wondered, but he didn’t want to distract her now.
‘I was sitting by the window and I noticed a man coming out of the shop and going towards his car – a blue Mercedes, just like the one Adam has. And – and I thought it was Adam.’ She stopped.
He was almost frightened to say anything, but he had to ask. ‘This was the day Eva left, was it?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. But Adam was in Paris at the time – I booked his ticket myself and he told me he caught the plane all right, so it couldn’t have been him, could it? That’s how I know it was just a silly mistake – easy to make a mistake like that, isn’t it? It was quite dark, and with the car I just jumped to the wrong conclusion – two and two making five, like you said. I should just put it out of my mind, shouldn’t I?’ She gave him a watery smile.
He hated to do this to her. ‘Absolutely. But I think you’d have put it out of your mind, if that was all. Was there something else to worry you, some signs of a disturbance back here, say?’
‘Oh no, if there had been anything like that I’d have told the police at once!’ She sounded horrified. ‘I wouldn’t—’ Then she stopped.
He let the pause develop, without saying anything.
With an obvious effort she went on, ‘It was just another silly little thing. Eva had forgotten one of her suitcases when she went, that was all. It was under the bed – just a few clothes in it; she could easily have forgotten it. Nothing much.’
‘And why was that so worrying?’
It was one question too far. Suddenly there was alarm in those round eyes. ‘Oh, just because I’m silly,’ she said. ‘I worry about everything, and with everyone asking me all these questions I’ve got things out of proportion, just like you said. But if that’s all—’ She heaved herself up out of the chair.
Strang didn’t move. ‘Just one more thing. There was another girl who left suddenly – you remember we mentioned her before – Veruschka?’
She went very still. Then her hands went across in front of her chest, clutching her sides as if she was trying physically to hold herself together.
‘She left. That’s all. I told you.’ Her voice was harder now.
‘She left her clothes too, didn’t she?’
Beatrice went so white that he thought for a moment she was going to faint. She even swayed a little and sat back down on the chair.
‘Did – did she? I – I don’t remember.’
‘So I believe. You had to post them on.’
‘Oh – oh yes, I remember now. That’s right. She didn’t want to take them with her and I was to send them on to somewhere – a London address, I think, though I can’t remember what it was.’
He recognised a practised response. ‘Is that what Adam told you to say?’
At the mention of his name, her face changed. ‘No, that’s what happened. That’s all I can tell you.’
He had one more try. ‘Odd that they should both leave clothes behind,’ he said, though not very hopefully.
‘If you’re going on public transport clothes are very heavy to carry.’
She’d retreated now to where he couldn’t reach her, behind the shield that was her devotion to Adam. The answers to his next questions were monosyllabic; he decided to cut his losses.
‘Thank you for your help,’ he said. ‘And – do you have a mobile phone?’
Beatrice, looking a little puzzled, produced it.
‘Let me just enter my number. Then, if you think of anything else, you can reach me direct. All right?’ He smiled, keyed it in and left her.
Tennant was waiting for him in the hall. He looked at him sullenly. ‘Got her to confess she’d bumped them both off out of jealousy, did you?’
‘Not exactly. Back to Balnasheil?’
‘Fine,’ Tennant said, but as they walked back to the jetty where he had moored his boat he said, ‘OK. You tell me what she said and I’ll tell you about Harry Drummond. I think things are coming to the boil.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It had been the smell that had led Tennant to Vicky Macdonald. She wasn’t in the kitchen but there was an open door at the farther side of the room. When he went through into a small lobby by the back door, he was assailed by a rank, sickening smell like suppurating flesh.
Alarmed and all but gagging, he found Vicky Macdonald standing in a walk-in larder checking supplies with a pen and notebook in her hand, apparently oblivious.
‘Dear God, what is that stink?’ he choked.
She turned, surprised to see him, then laughed. ‘Just a hare. The dog caught it. You think that’s high? Adam will want it hung for at least another couple of days. You should smell what it’s like once it hits the heat of the oven.’
Tennant opened the door she indicated into what must have been the game larder for the hunting lodge in its heyday. It had bare stone walls and a whistling draught came through the slatted windows; lines of pegs and hooks where rows of pheasants and grouse would once have hung lined the walls above zinc-topped shelves. Now there was only the carcass of a hare that had dripped blood into a bowl below, and he shut the door hastily.
‘What are you doing here anyway?’ Vicky asked.
‘Well,’ he began, then said, ‘Look, do you mind if we carry on our conversation in the kitchen? If I stay here any longer I’ll throw up. How do you stand it?’
‘Oh, you get used to it. Adam loves his jugged hare and the dog’s a very effective killing machine.’
It was all right once the heavy kitchen door was shut but the smell lingered in his nostrils with its sickly-sweet note of corruption. There was a certain fitness to that, Tennant thought grimly.
‘So – why are you here?’ Vicky said.
‘Er – I’d better show you this.’ He produced his warrant card.
She stared at it incredulously. ‘What – you’re a policeman?’
‘Well, sort of, at the moment. I took unpaid leave from the Met because I’ve always wanted to write this book—’
She didn’t believe him. ‘Really? And all those times we talked about Eva’s disappearance you didn’t think to mention it?’
She wasn’t taking it well. The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped about ten degrees. ‘I know, I know. Sorry. The problem was, it’s under Police Scotland’s jurisdiction. You’d have expected me to get involved and I couldn’t, but I did pull strings to get some more action.’
‘Oh, well done.’ Her tone was sweetly poisonous. ‘And are they getting anywhere, now they’ve turned up after any sort of possible trail was cold? Or aren’t you allowed to tell me now you’ve gone all official?’
‘Look, we’re still on the same side,’ he said irritably. OK, she felt betrayed, but he had apologised. What did she want – blood? ‘We’re working on it but we still don’t know what happened. Is there anything at all that you’ve remembered that might help?’
‘No, there bloody isn’t.’ She was irritated too. ‘I just wish there was something – I’ve racked my brains, but there simply isn’t. I’d have told them immediately if there was. And what about this Veruschka who disappeared mysteriously as well – what are you doing about her?’
‘Not a lot, at the moment, until we get this sorted out—’
‘That’s not good enough.’ She thumped her fist on the kitchen table for emphasis. ‘She’s just been wiped out, as if she didn’t exist! You knew Eva so you want to know what happened to her, but don’t you think this girl has the same rights? You’re just not going to bother, are you? Even if she was an immigrant it doesn’t mean you can treat her as if she was a – a nothing—’
‘I did. She said she couldn’t remember. But you could put on pressure—’
Tennant snorted. ‘Not the way the DI wants to work. Just ask nicely and they’ll tell you everything you want to know.’
‘Fat lot of use that is.’ Vicky was scornful.
‘I’m not going to argue with you on that but there’s not a lot I can do about it. Anyway, if there’s nothing more—?’
For a moment she glared at him and then her shoulders sagged. ‘No. No, there isn’t.’ She was looking deflated when Tennant left.
He had hesitated as he reached the hall, hearing the voices from Beatrice Lacey’s study. He’d like to be in on the interview but Strang had a sort of authority that wasn’t only derived from his superior rank; the man wouldn’t hesitate to cut him out altogether if he pushed his luck. Perhaps, if he went in quietly and kept his mouth shut …
He took a step towards the study door but at that moment a door at the other side of the hall below the staircase opened and Harry Drummond appeared, frowning. Tennant recognised him – the dark hair, the vivid blue eyes, the thin-lipped mouth; there was a photo of the man stapled to a file lying on his desk at the cottage.
Drummond stopped, looking startled, but only for a minute. Then he came over, smiling, his hand outstretched and introduced himself. ‘You must be from the police. I heard you were expected. Getting any further with your investigations? I do trust nothing has happened to that poor girl.’
Knowing what he did of Drummond’s associates, Tennant was tempted to count his fingers when he got his hand back. ‘DC Tennant. What do you think might have happened to her, sir?’
‘Oh – well, I don’t know. These days, the things you hear …And these foreign girls are very unsettled. Never last here long – not that I blame them. Back of beyond, no shops, no cinemas – says a lot for Adam’s charms that he gets these babes to come here at all!’ He laughed heartily. ‘Well, good hunting.’
He was turning to go when Tennant, seizing the moment, said, ‘I wonder if I could just ask you a little about the background here, sir? Might be helpful.’
Drummond’s smile faded and the bright blue eyes went very cold. ‘I’m hardly ever here, Constable. I can’t think what I could say that might be useful.’
Tennant was ready for a refusal when Drummond’s tone suddenly changed. ‘On the other hand, I’m keen to cooperate, naturally, if you think I can be helpful in any way. Look, why don’t we go through to Adam’s flat? He’s away today and I know he won’t mind.’
So what was it that Drummond wanted to put on record? And was this, he thought with a sudden chill, confirmation that they had indeed realised what was going on, knew about the part Eva had been playing?
‘You know, Human Face is very much Adam’s baby,’ Drummond said confidentially as they both sat down in the sitting room. ‘Adam’s, and Beatrice’s too, I suppose. As I said, I’m not here very often – I’m just the charity’s accountant and I mastermind a lot of the distribution for them as well. Go abroad occasionally to monitor the sites we – they’ – he stumbled revealingly – ‘support, to make sure the money’s being used the best way. That sort of thing.’
Yes, he did go abroad quite a lot and made quite a lot of interesting contacts too when he did. His digital trail and Carnegie’s criss-crossed constantly, which was one of the things that had made them so difficult for investigators to pin down. He’d come back from the conference in Paris with Carnegie but Tennant couldn’t ask him about his movements directly without explaining how he knew and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. Maybe a little surprise for later.
Drummond’s intentions were blatant so the answer he got to his question, ‘You must rely on a considerable inflow of donations, presumably?’ wasn’t unexpected.
‘Oh yes, but all that is Adam’s territory, going through Adam’s office here. I don’t take anything to do with the money or the sponsors. Beatrice processes them and then I audit the books afterwards. All open and above board, as far as I can see, if that’s what you’re asking. Though of course—’ He stopped.
‘Of course …?’ Tennant prompted.
‘Sorry? Oh, nothing, nothing. Human Face does a great deal of good, I promise you that. And if you’re still concerned about this girl – well, she obviously decided that Adam’s bonny blue eyes weren’t enough compensation for the lack of nightclubs.’
Mindful of Vicky’s prodding, he said, ‘Did you know one called Veruschka, sir?’
‘Good grief, I can only just remember the name of the last one, let alone any before that. Sorry, not much use, I’m afraid.’ Drummond got up.
He’d said his say. Tennant hadn’t tried to prolong the interview and was waiting in the hall when Strang came out of the study a few minutes later.
Conversation in the boat on the way back was impossible with the noise of the boat’s engine and the muttering of a rising sea that was flecked with white caps under a leaden sky. Strang cast an uneasy look around; it almost felt as if there was a sort of pent-up rage that might erupt into a tempest of destruction. He didn’t like those brooding, cloud-veiled mountains all around; it was making him fanciful, and he was glad to reach the Balnasheil shore. He waited as Tennant tied up at a small wooden pier, then went back with him to the cottage.
‘It was pretty repellent, to be honest,’ Tennant said when he had reported the conversation with Drummond. ‘He was clearing his lines – nothing to do with me, all Adam’s fault whatever it is, that sort of thing. They know we’re onto them – and what does that say about my poor, poor Eva?’ He bit his lip.
‘I have to say I was surprised when you said you wanted to break cover today,’ Strang said. ‘It’s going to generate a lot of talk in the village.’
‘Not to mention hostility,’ Tennant said. ‘Vicky Macdonald’s madder than a wet hen and she didn’t buy the story about me happening to be here on leave. But my bosses reckon that in the circumstances it’s time to pressure them. Drummond’s started ratting already so it looks as if that just may give us leverage. Now – your turn. Did you get anything out of Lacey?’
Strang repeated what Beatrice had said but when Tennant seemed ready to seize on it as an excuse for a search warrant he shook his head. ‘Forget it. She says she thought she saw Carnegie long after he was supposed to have gone but she couldn’t have – we checked it out and he flew to Paris on the flight as scheduled. She was a little vague anyway – talked about “we” but then said she was alone. There’s an odd question mark about clothes left behind by both those girls but nothing like the sort of evidence we’d need to persuade a sheriff to grant a warrant to search the premises of an established charity – unless you have something that could swing it?’
‘You think we’d still be hanging about if we did? Not a chance. All circumstantial and nothing that you could actually describe as criminal,’ Tennant said gloomily. ‘You can’t arrest someone for keeping bad company, unfortunately – our job would be a walk in the park if you could. But anyway, what now?’
‘I’m going to call my boss in Edinburgh. See what she says.’
But he knew already what she would say. They were trying to make bricks without straw and unless there was a major breakthrough somewhere in the next twenty-four hours or so he’d be heading back south with nothing to show for his investigations.
There was still an interview to be done with Adam Carnegie once he got back from Glasgow, and he was going to take him head on. Maybe he’d let Tennant off the leash this time.
When the policeman had gone, Beatrice Lacey collapsed forward onto her desk. Her head felt as if it might float away off her shoulders, she was hot and cold all over and her heart was beating so frantically that she thought it might stop at any moment. She
lay there, spread-eagled, until the blood started coming back to her brain and her heart rate slowed down a little. Then she sat up gingerly.
What had she said? She couldn’t remember clearly, could only remember the kindly voice of the policeman and the relief she’d felt at telling him what had been bothering her. She hadn’t betrayed Adam, had she? Even saying the words made her gulp nervously, but the inspector had agreed with her that she’d just got things out of proportion – exactly what she’d kept telling herself. She was sure of that.
And when it came to Veruschka, she was on firmer ground. She hadn’t said more than she should, hadn’t been drawn into saying anything that Adam wouldn’t like; she’d kept to what he’d told her. She could comfort herself with that.
But – could she? She was still feeling strange and her mind, so obligingly ready to erect barriers in the past, was entertaining ideas that were as novel as they were unwelcome.
‘The police are our friends,’ her mother had told the little Beatrice, all these years ago. The police were men like the nice inspector, who’d been so understanding. She wanted to cooperate, to be on the side of the law as all decent folk should be – yet she’d lied to him.
She tried to argue with herself. It wasn’t her lie – it was Adam’s lie that she’d just repeated, and Adam came first, Adam was her life and anyway, if she’d been going to betray him (that word again) she should have done it long ago. If they found out now – she caught her breath – it wasn’t only Adam they’d be after.
No, she needed to pull herself together, stick to what they had agreed. No one could prove anything – and perhaps she’d jumped to the wrong conclusions last time too. She was feeling a little better and once she’d dug out a Twix she managed to go back to the report she’d been working on.