Cold, Cold Heart

by Christine Poulson

  Katie couldn’t help being amused. Of course he was!

  “And when did you leave?”

  “Three. Also on the dot.”

  “Quite sure about that?” Justin asked. “I had an idea it was three minutes past.”

  Graeme shot him a reproving look.

  “No,” Rhys assured them, “definitely three. And she was absolutely fine. Writing up her notes when I left her. Piles, by the way.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Haemorrhoids. That’s what I consulted her about.”

  “Ah.” Graeme avoided meeting Katie’s eye. “And then what did you do?”

  “Went back to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee.”

  “Was there anyone else there?”

  “Not when I first went in, but as I was making coffee, Ernesto came in. Then as I was going back to my pit-room, taking my coffee with me, I saw Nick, Craig, and Alex playing Scrabble in the dining room. Then, until six, I was in my pit-room, planning my next moves for my online chess games. So on the face of it, I would not seem to have an alibi for those two and a half hours. However,” he beamed at them, “my computer history will prove otherwise. Analysis would show that I was absent only once, when at four fifteen I went back to the kitchen for another coffee. By that time Nick and Craig had gone, but this time Ernesto was there, planning his menus for the restaurant he hopes will one day be awarded a Michelin star. At six, I went to work out in the gym and that was where you found me.”

  “That all seems satisfactory,” Graeme said.

  “Excellent.” Rhys got to his feet. “Shall I send someone in?” he asked.

  “Not yet. Just one thing more.” Graeme was looking down at his grid. “When you saw Nick and Craig and Alex playing Scrabble, did they see you?”

  For the first time Rhys hesitated. “Yes, and I believe we exchanged a few words.”

  “Thank you.” Graeme made a mark on the grid.

  Rhys bounced out of the room.

  When the door had closed behind him and his footsteps had faded away, Graeme said, “It does look as if he’s in the clear. Unless he somehow rigged his computer. Not very likely, but we will have to check.”

  Justin shook his head. “He seems to think this is all a game.”

  “It’s just his way,” Graeme said. “Let me tell you something. When Sara went missing, Rhys was the very first to come to see me and he volunteered for every search party. No, he’s alright is Rhys.” He sat back. “I’ve updated the timetable. That gives us information about Ernesto, Alex, Nick, and Craig.”

  “One thing,” Katie remarked. “If Rhys says it was three on the dot, it was three on the dot.”

  “We can’t expect the others to be so precise,” Justin sighed.

  “Who’s up next?” Katie asked.

  “I think it’d better be Ernesto,” Graeme said. “People would have been in and out of the kitchen fixing themselves drinks and snacks all afternoon. If we can establish who and when, we can fill in some of these spaces on the grid.”

  * * *

  Ernesto spread his hands. “Yes, I am in my kitchen all afternoon – where else would I be? – but I don’t remember now who comes and goes. My kitchen is a nice place to be. People in and out all the time.”

  Graeme and Katie exchanged glances.

  “You were in the kitchen all afternoon?” Graeme asked.

  Ernesto considered. “Yes, all afternoon. That is, after my rest. I always have a rest after lunch. Just half an hour. I lie down with Raymond Blanc and a double espresso.”

  Graeme’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Raymond Blanc’s a chef,” Justin explained.

  “Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons. It is my favourite book,” Ernesto said. “And then I go back to the kitchen and get on with planning my menus. It gives me inspiration for a new recipe for chicken cacciatore. Traditional but with a modern twist.”

  “But you haven’t cooked that for us, have you?” Katie asked.

  “No, no, not for the base, for menu for my restaurant. And I am thinking again about the layout of the kitchen. But yes, I remember, around half past three I am thinking about what to bake for tea. Alex comes in to get some beer. He asks me, will I make scones and will I put sultanas in the scones for Adam. That is what Adam’s mum does. At first I am doubtful.” Ernesto pursed his lips and shook his head. “Sultanas in scones? It is not my way, but then I think why not? It is my job to provide good homestyle cooking, and I know the poor boy is homesick, so sultanas go in.”

  “No point in being precious about it,” Justin agreed.

  Katie had to resist the urge to kick him under the table.

  “Nick and Craig and Alex, I see early in the afternoon, playing Scrabble and then for a while, they are not there. Then Nick comes in to make tea when I am getting the scones out of the oven. They have to wait for the scones to cool down to have with their tea. Then Nick and Craig are playing Scrabble again and are still playing Scrabble when you come looking for Sara.”

  * * *

  “So Rhys said we exchanged a few words, did he?” Nick said. “Actually we told him to – well, to clear off. At least that was the gist of it. You know what he’s like, he was hovering over us, commenting on our moves, and when he told Alex that he’d just missed an excellent word using a triple score, it was too much.”

  Katie scrutinized him, looking for indications that he’d been taking drugs. He was wearing a T-shirt so that his bare arms were exposed. She couldn’t spot any needle marks – though the tattoo made it hard to be sure – and of course he’d be careful not to shoot up where they would show. He was pale, but weren’t they all after the lack of sunlight?

  “And did he?” Graeme asked.

  “Did he what?” Nick said.

  “Did Rhys clear off?”

  “Yes, to be fair, he did. You do have to spell it out with Rhys, but once he gets the message…”

  “So you and Alex and Craig were playing Scrabble from after lunch until when exactly…?”

  “Well, Alex only played one game. And then he said he was going to go and have a shower. Craig and I had another game.”

  “And then what?”

  “Well, I don’t know about Craig, but I went to my pit-room. That would be about a quarter to four. I had a nap. I was there about an hour, I should think. And then I went back to the dining room. Craig was there, so I made us both some tea. Craig and I sat and chatted and drank tea. Then we played Scrabble again.”

  “What time was it when Alex left you?”

  “Maybe a quarter past three? Something like that.”

  “Did anyone come in later while you were having tea and playing Scrabble again?”

  “Yes. Someone did. At least once. Maybe more.”

  “So who was it?”

  “I didn’t really notice. I was absorbed in the game.”

  Graeme consulted his grid. “Was Ernesto there when you made the tea?”

  “Ernesto? Yes, he was, now that I come to think of it. He was just getting some scones out of the oven. Craig and I had a laugh about it. He offered to make us espressos – strong enough…”

  “…to blow your head off.” They finished the sentence in a chorus.

  Nick went on, “He had papers spread out all over the table. Menu-planning, he said.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Must have been around quarter to five.”

  After he’d gone, Graeme said, “Well, Katie?”

  “If he is taking drugs, he’s doing a good job of covering it up. But then, he’s a smart guy. I wouldn’t like to say for sure.”

  Graeme sighed. “OK. We’d better have Craig in.”

  * * *

  Craig was as taciturn as ever, but he did confirm Nick’s story. They were together, playing Scrabble all afternoon except for an hour or so, when they went their separate ways. Alex had joined them for the first game – a fairly short one, he seemed to recall. Yes, of course he remembered sending Rhys away with a flea in his
ear. He had been intermittently aware of Ernesto in the kitchen. Alex had probably left them around three fifteen. Then he and Nick had had a second game. He had no idea what Nick had done after that, but Craig had gone to his pit-room and watched an episode of Breaking Bad on his laptop. He had already watched the whole series at home. It was a modern masterpiece. He had brought the box set with him and was working his way through it again, one episode at a time.

  Like Nick, during the second bout of Scrabble he had been vaguely aware of some comings and goings, but he hadn’t registered who the individuals were. He had an idea that Ernesto had been in the kitchen throughout, but he couldn’t swear to it.

  Was that all? Could he get back to work now?

  * * *

  Alex frowned. “It’s hard to remember precisely, but I’ll do my best. Let me see… After lunch I stayed in the dining room and had a game of Scrabble with Nick and Craig.”

  “We didn’t think to ask the others,” Justin said, “but who won?”

  “Oh, Nick did. He almost always does. One game was enough for me. After that, I decided to have a shower. After that –”

  “Wait,” Graeme said. “What time did you go for your shower?”

  “My best guess would be three ten, three fifteen? Then I came back to the kitchen and collected some beer and nachos. I’d agreed to meet young Adam in the TV room to watch Game of Thrones and that’s what I did. Not my favourite programme, but I like it well enough and I got the impression that he wanted the company so I was happy to go along with it. I knew he was finding the dark days hard going. And that’s more or less it. Back-to-back box set viewing for the rest of the afternoon. We cracked open a few beers and I think he enjoyed it. But by around six I’d had enough. I was getting a bit antsy, wanted some exercise before supper, so I left him to it and went off to the gym. I’d just got there when Rhys arrived and that’s where you found us when you came looking for Sara.”

  Graeme said, “So between around half past three and six o’clock you and Adam were together?”

  Alex nodded. “That’s right. Oh, I’m not saying that we didn’t need to relieve ourselves of some of that beer once or twice, but neither of us were gone more than a few minutes.”

  * * *

  “It does seem like Alex is in the clear,” Justin said.

  “As long as Adam confirms his story for the second part of the afternoon,” Graeme agreed.

  “And what about Adam? Is he in the clear, too?” Katie asked.

  Graeme ran his finger down the grid. “He was in the gym with Justin until three. Then he was with me at three fifteen for around ten minutes. After that he went to the TV room and hunkered down for that marathon DVD session.”

  “The last half-hour or so isn’t accounted for,” Justin pointed out.

  “We didn’t think that was long enough. And anyway if he’d killed Sara, would he really have raised such a hue and cry at six forty-five?” Katie asked.

  “If he was clever, that’s exactly what he would have done,” Justin said.

  “Oh, please! Adam? Can you really see it?”

  Graeme said, “I agree with you, Katie. I don’t believe for a moment that Adam had anything to do with Sara’s death. But we’ll have to speak to him if only to confirm Alex’s alibi. You must see that. And it wouldn’t be right to make an exception in his case. We must be seen to be fair.”

  Katie thought this over. “OK, but he is my patient. If he starts to get distressed, I’m calling a halt.”

  * * *

  Graeme said, “We’re sure you didn’t have anything to do with Sara’s death, Adam, but you might be able to help with alibis for some of the others.”

  Graeme’s voice was gentle, fatherly. Adam was still very pale, but he seemed calm enough. He nodded his understanding.

  “Well, first of all, I went to the gym and then I saw you. And then I spent the rest of the afternoon watching Game of Thrones.”

  “On your own?”

  “Oh no, with Alex. He brought along some beers and nachos, said we’d have a lads’ afternoon.”

  “And you were together all afternoon?”

  “Yes. Well, nearly. Alex said he was going to stop and go to the gym at six o’clock and that’s what he did. I watched a bit more on my own and then it was nearly half past six and it was time for my table tennis with Sara and that was when –” He gulped and his lower lip began to tremble.

  Katie gave Graeme a warning look.

  He nodded. “That’s fine. All done now. You can go back to your pit-room.”

  Adam left the room and they waited for his footsteps to die away.

  “Well,” Justin said, “where does that leave us?”

  Graeme ran his finger along the grid. “At first glance it’s not looking good for Craig or Nick. Both of them have an hour when there’s no one to vouch for them.”

  There was a knock on the door and Ernesto poked his head round. “Dinner has been ready a long time,” he said reproachfully. “The others have all eaten.”

  Katie looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was nine o’clock. She had lost all track of time.

  “OK, we’ll come now,” Graeme said.

  When Ernesto had gone, he said, “There’s nothing to be gained by slipping out of our routine – or neglecting the work of the base. Tempting as it is to just push on, I’m going to call a halt for today.” He squared away his papers. “It’s not as if anyone’s going anywhere,” he added with grim humour. “Also I need to have a good look at the grid and plan the next move. We’ll meet back here tomorrow morning. The bolts should be on the pit-rooms by now and either me or Justin will escort you to yours, Katie, when we’ve had dinner.”

  CHAPTER 34

  ELY

  Rachel dropped Daniel off at his office. She watched as he made his way in, managing his crutches with difficulty. He was wearing one of his older suits with one of the trouser legs slit to accommodate his cast.

  They’d already dropped Chloe at school, so now she drove home and parked. She walked slowly along the quayside, enjoying the sheen of green on the weeping willows, pausing to watch the Canada geese pecking the grass. In the marina someone was taking advantage of the fine weather to paint their cruiser. She told herself that she was making the most of a fine spring morning, but she knew really that she was putting something off. She reached home, unlocked the door and went in, leaned with her back against the closed door, and gave a sigh.

  For the first time in days she had the house to herself. She wanted to be alone for what she had to do.

  When she had gone out to get a prescription for Daniel a couple of days ago, she had bought something else for herself, something that she had been careful to conceal in a drawer. Five minutes later she was sitting on the toilet lid in the bathroom, looking at the two blue bars that had appeared in the little window of the white plastic wand. She looked again at the diagram in the leaflet, read the leaflet again, then realized that she hadn’t taken in a word. But in any case she didn’t need to read it. She was pregnant. She had known it from the moment that she had realized she was a week late. She was normally as regular as clockwork. How had it happened? She reminded herself that no method is a hundred per cent reliable. We may think that we are in complete control of our bodies, but we’re not. Not really.

  She thought Daniel trusted her enough to know that she hadn’t done it on purpose. Though now she wondered if it had been completely accidental. What did Freud call it? The psychopathology of everyday life? Those things that happen accidentally on purpose! Perhaps part of her wanted this so much that she had somehow willed it to happen. Because she knew now how very much she wanted another child – and not just for Chloe’s sake.

  It didn’t matter really how it had happened. A warmth was spreading through her, a warmth that seemed at one with the sunshine and the freshness of the spring day. Already she was beginning to love this baby.

  But how was she going to break the news to Daniel?

&
nbsp; * * *

  “I got something from the editor of The European Journal of Molecular Oncology last night,” Lyle said.

  He had rung mid-morning on Daniel’s first day back in the office.

  He went on. “We had a drink together and I brought the conversation round to the article that Kieran Langstaffe and Alistair Johnson-Marsh submitted. He said he couldn’t be expected to remember every article that was submitted and turned down, especially when it was several years ago. I pressed a bit more – mentioned that they’d later published something on similar lines – and I could see that he’d remembered something. Then he started quizzing me about it, wanting to know why I was interested. Then he admitted that he did remember it now, but he couldn’t recall offhand who the referees had been. I said he was bound to have a record of it. And he agreed, but then he said that it was confidential and he wouldn’t be able to tell me.”

  “So that’s that?”

  “Not quite. More and more was coming back to him. He said it had been a rather unusual case. One reader was perfectly happy with it, enthusiastic even, and the other had slated it. In the end he’d felt that he couldn’t ignore the negative report. I got the impression that the referee was a pretty big gun. I think I’d got him rattled, that he’d made some kind of connection that worried him. So when we said goodbye in the pub, I pretended to go to the bathroom. As soon as he thought I was out of sight, he got out his cell phone and made a call. Dollars to doughnuts he was ringing one of the referees.”

  “Well maybe, but it doesn’t get us much further, does it?”

  “Ah, that’s not all. I thought long and hard about who those referees might be and I got an idea about that. It’s a fairly small field. And I thought I knew someone who might be able to help. I’ve just spoken to her on the phone.”

  Daniel shook his head, marvelling. How was it that Lyle always knew someone or, at the very least, someone who knew someone else? This was the secret of his success, no doubt, especially as he usually got what he wanted from them.

  Lyle said, “I thought bare minimum she’d be able to give me an idea of who the readers might be. But it was better than that. She was one of them! And she was pretty teed off when the paper was turned down. Her theory was – and I quote – that: ‘one of the big beasts in her field had put the kibosh on it’. She gave me a shortlist of possible names and – what do you know – Cameron was on it!”