by Casey, Jane
‘In his own world, I suppose. No real idea of what his kids are like. That’s typical.’
‘He wouldn’t be the first father of teenagers to be a bit clueless about what’s going on in their lives.’
‘I suppose not.’ Savannah dug her nail into a crack in the table, worrying at it. ‘Where is she?’
‘In Twickenham with her aunt. Vita’s sister.’
‘Renee? She’s a fucking bitch.’ The vehemence surprised me; my mouth popped open and stayed that way for a fraction of a second too long.
‘She’s been very helpful.’
‘Don’t even start.’ Savannah picked at the table, furious. ‘She’s awful. Poor little Lydia.’
‘You’ve met this Renee, then,’ Derwent said. ‘I haven’t had the pleasure.’
‘She’s cold-blooded, like a lizard. What’s Dad thinking?’
‘He doesn’t have custody of Lydia at the moment,’ I said.
‘Because he’s a suspect? Jesus. What a mess.’ She tapped her fingers again, this time at high speed. ‘Look, I want to take Lydia. I want to get her away from London and anything that reminds her of her mum and her sister. She needs space to grieve, and she needs time, and she needs distance from this horrible state of affairs.’
‘I’m sure you’re right. But––’
‘But what? It’s not difficult.’ Savannah glared at me. ‘She’s my half-sister. Call her. Ask her what she wants to do. Ask Renee if she minds handing her over – I guarantee you, she won’t give a flying fuck.’
‘What about your father? What will he say?’
‘I don’t know and I don’t care. This isn’t about him.’ She looked at Derwent. ‘Please. Just ask them. Ask Lydia first, then ask Renee. I guarantee both of them will agree to it.’ This was more like the demanding diva I had been expecting, but she was still charming, still pleasant in her manner. Usually, that wouldn’t have made a blind bit of difference to Derwent.
‘We could,’ he said slowly.
‘Then do it. Come on. I have an alibi.’ She gave a glorious, wicked giggle that brought a smile to Derwent’s face. ‘She’ll be safe with me, I promise. And happy, as far as she can be in the circumstances.’
‘We just feel we might be able to help,’ Zoe said softly. ‘If she feels she’s in a safe place she might open up a bit.’
‘That’s true,’ I said, looking at Derwent. It wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard.
‘We’ll ask her and her aunt. But I’m not making you any promises. I’m not going to try to convince either of them if they say no.’
‘I wouldn’t ask you to.’ Savannah crossed her legs again, settling back in her chair. ‘We’ll wait here while you go and call them.’
‘What, now?’
‘No time like the present.’
As if in a daze, Derwent stood up and went to the door. I followed, knowing that as soon as his brain kicked in, he’d realise he didn’t know Renee’s telephone number or address. He was silent all the way back to the office which was fine by me since I was trying to walk and copy her details from my notebook at the same time. Just outside the door, he stopped. ‘What am I doing?’
‘What the pretty lady told you to do.’ I handed him the page I’d been writing on and patted his arm consolingly. ‘Better make it snappy. You don’t want to keep her waiting.’
‘Fucking hell.’ He said it without his usual conviction, though. ‘I feel like I’ve been run over by a Ferrari.’
‘But it was worth it just to get that close to one, wasn’t it? Now remember, not a word to anyone about what we’ve just heard.’ I held the door open for him.
‘Don’t worry, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.’ As he walked away, I heard him mutter in all seriousness, ‘Some things are just too tragic to say out loud.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘NOW THIS,’ DERWENT observed, ‘is all we need.’
‘This’ was Philip Kennford, striding through the room with his jaw squared, heading for Godley’s office. I slumped down in my chair a couple of inches, not quite hiding behind the computer screen in front of me but definitely trying not to attract his attention. Derwent was even less subtle, plunging under the desk opposite mine as if he’d dropped something. I rolled back my chair so I could see him.
‘Are you going to stay there until he’s gone?’
‘If I have to.’
‘I know he hit you, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d be scared of him.’
‘I’m not.’ Derwent showed me his watch. ‘It’s almost eight o’clock. I’m tired, I’m fed up with doing paperwork and I’m hungry. What I don’t want is to get stuck in a slanging match with twatface in there.’
‘Or another punch-up.’
‘I wouldn’t dignify what happened last time with the word punch-up. He took a shot at me when I wasn’t looking.’
‘It wasn’t fair.’
‘No.’ Derwent narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘Never. I wouldn’t dare. Even though you’re crouching by the bin.’
‘The minute I come out, I’ll get collared.’
‘You’re paranoid.’ I looked across at Godley’s office. ‘The door’s shut. You could make a run for it while he’s in there.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ Derwent backed out from under the desk and straightened up, dusting his knees off. ‘God, it’s filthy under there.’
‘You can’t get the cleaning staff these days.’
‘Don’t blame them, love. Those are your crumbs.’
‘I don’t eat at my desk,’ I said with dignity. ‘The last person who ate in here was you. I don’t need to be a forensic expert to know that’s the remains of your hot dog.’
He squinted at the floor. ‘You might be right.’
‘I know I am. I saw you drop the crumbs.’
Derwent picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, hooked on one finger. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie stuffed in one trouser pocket. He looked like an extra from a budget edition of Miami Vice. ‘Right. Work’s for losers. I’m out of here for the day.’
Godley’s timing was impeccable. ‘Josh? In here, please. You too, Maeve.’
Derwent’s shoulders slumped. ‘Ah, fuck. I knew this would happen.’
‘Come on. Time for the rematch.’ I led the way to Godley’s office, wanting to get it over with. The boss had sounded tired but not angry, which I counted as a good sign. There was always the chance that he’d exhausted his irritation with me earlier when I’d got my not wholly warranted bollocking over Savannah. I slightly despised myself for caring, but I couldn’t pretend that I was unmoved to be on Godley’s shit list. I wanted him to respect me as a member of the team, not just a box ticked on some equal opportunities form, but some days that seemed like a very futile aspiration. Today had all the hallmarks of being one of them.
I picked up on the atmosphere in the room as soon as I walked through the door. Kennford was standing beside Godley’s noticeboard, a scowl on his face. He glanced at me, then returned to studying the close-up shots of dead gangsters. He was more formally dressed than usual, as if he had come from court, though it wouldn’t have been sitting for hours. His black pinstripe suit was tailored to give him a perfect V-shaped back and made the most of his height. Dressed to impress, I gathered, and wondered what he was there to say.
‘Sit down, Maeve. Josh, get a move on.’ Godley had already sat down behind his desk. Derwent was taking his own sweet time about coming into the office, making a big deal out of closing the door quietly. It wasn’t as if there were many people left to disturb; the place had emptied out for the day.
Godley leaned on his desk, tenting his fingers in front of his face so I had to guess at his expression. ‘Mr Kennford is here because he wants to make an official complaint about you.’
‘With regard to what, exactly?’ Derwent demanded, flinging himself into the chair beside mine like a stroppy teenager.
�
��With regard to placing my daughter in an unsuitable environment.’ Kennford turned around and glowered at Derwent. His hands had bunched into fists, I noticed. I also noticed I was directly between them. I really wished I’d picked somewhere else to sit. ‘Who are you to make decisions like that for her?’
‘I didn’t make any decisions for her. Nor did DC Kerrigan. Your other daughter asked if she could provide Lydia with a place to stay. I simply got in touch with your sister-in-law and passed on the offer.’
‘I’m sure she didn’t even stop to think about it.’
‘She said it was up to Lydia, actually. She said she didn’t mind either way.’
She had said a lot more than that, I happened to know. She had had quite a lot to say about the strain it was placing on her family to have Lydia there, and the constant harassment from the media, and the inconvenience of taking Lydia to have her cuts dressed as an out-patient, and the frustration she felt at the amount of time it was taking to find somewhere else for Lydia to go. She was a busy woman and Lydia needed more than she had to give. It was hard to see how Lydia was better off with her aunt than with her half-sister, but I was interested to hear how Kennford would justify it.
‘Yes, why not leave it to the self-harming, grief-stricken fifteen-year-old to decide where she goes and what happens to her?’ Kennford ran his hands through his hair. ‘Why am I the only person who sees this as a problem?’
‘Maybe because you’re the only person who doesn’t like her half-sister.’ I hadn’t meant to sound caustic, but Kennford glared.
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I know Savannah was able to offer her a complete break from her normal routine, which is probably what she needs. I know Lydia didn’t take very long to accept. I know Lydia definitely needs a lot of love and attention after what happened to her. Incidentally, did you get around to visiting her in hospital? Or were you too busy?’ I was too angry with Kennford to think about whether what I was saying was appropriate.
‘She was released before I had a chance to get there. I was in court.’
‘She was there overnight. Court finishes at four in the afternoon.’
‘Ever heard of visiting hours?’
‘They wouldn’t apply to you. You’re her father.’
‘Well, I didn’t know that.’
‘Because you didn’t bother to find out.’
‘Maeve. That’s enough.’ Godley’s voice was thin with exhaustion.
‘Is it?’ I jerked my thumb in Kennford’s direction. ‘He’s come here to complain about us finding somewhere for Lydia to stay, and he didn’t even bother to go and see her when I had told him about her injuries. I don’t think that’s fair. Do you?’
‘Fair or not, Mr Kennford is here because he has genuine concerns about his daughter’s safety.’
‘What concerns?’ I turned back to Kennford. ‘Do you think Savannah was involved in the murders?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ he snapped.
‘If you’re concerned about her being involved, you need to tell us why.’ I folded my arms. ‘You’ve left us in the dark, Mr Kennford. You didn’t even tell us about your other daughter. You know more than you’ve been letting on. If you genuinely think Lydia’s in danger, you must tell us now.’
‘She had an alibi.’ Derwent yawned vastly after he’d spoken, not bothering to cover his mouth.
‘Who did?’ Godley asked.
‘Savannah. She was home alone with her partner.’
I was watching Kennford’s face and saw his eyelids flicker at the last word. ‘Is that it? You’re worried she’ll turn Lydia into a––’
‘Now, now.’ Derwent interrupted me, tutting. ‘You know we’re not allowed to talk about that.’
‘I’m sure Superintendent Godley won’t tell anyone else.’
‘That’s how these things get out. You promise not to say anything, but then you tell one other person who you trust, and they tell one other person, and before you know it, it’s common knowledge.’
‘Could someone please tell me what’s going on?’ Godley said in a tone that suggested he was running out of patience.
‘Mr Kennford has a problem with his eldest daughter’s sexual orientation. Savannah has a girlfriend. But it’s a secret.’ Derwent put his finger across his lips.
‘I don’t have a problem with it.’ Kennford sounded pained.
‘You’re a great big homophobe, Mr Kennford. That’s fine, though. I wouldn’t be pleased either if my beautiful daughter turned out to be a bean-licker.’
‘For God’s sake, do you have to be so crude?’
‘It’s not for His sake,’ Derwent said gravely. ‘I enjoy it.’
Kennford turned back to Godley. ‘Look, I’m appealing to you as a father. I don’t want Lydia with her half-sister. I don’t want to go into the reasons, but I’m not convinced it’s a good environment for her. I want you to stop this before it goes any further.’
Godley shook his head. ‘It’s a family matter, Mr Kennford. We need to know where Lydia is, and that she’s safe there, but beyond that we aren’t involved in her life. We’re the police, not the social services. If you have any reason to believe Miss Wentworth is likely to threaten your daughter, please do tell us. If you have any evidence to prove Miss Wentworth was involved in the murders of your other daughter and wife, again, I hope you’d tell us. But you can’t expect us to intervene in a family feud.’
‘You will when it suits you, I’ve noticed.’ Kennford turned around and stared at the noticeboard again. I had the impression he wasn’t seeing it. ‘What do you suggest I do?’
‘Speak to Lydia. Share your concerns with her, if you like.’ Godley leaned his head on his hand as if he couldn’t hold it up any longer. ‘Where are you staying now, Mr Kennford? Still in the Temple?’
‘No. With a friend.’
‘Is it suitable for your daughter to stay with you?’
He wavered, but came down on the side of the truth. ‘Not really. I don’t think either of them would like it. It’s a female friend, as it happens.’
‘A close friend?’ Derwent couldn’t have been expecting an answer and he didn’t get one, unless you counted Kennford’s nostrils flaring.
‘Well, as you’re not able to provide her with a safe home yourself,’ Godley said gently, ‘perhaps it’s for the best that she’s with a family member. Someone close to her in age, rather than her aunt.’
‘You think so.’
‘In the absence of any evidence to the contrary, yes.’
‘Who is this friend you’re staying with?’ Derwent demanded.
‘No one you would know.’
‘One of your old clients, maybe?’
Kennford stiffened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘We had an interesting chat with one of your ex-girlfriends, DC Kerrigan and I. A Miss …’
‘Adamkuté,’ I supplied. Derwent couldn’t or wouldn’t get his head around her name, even for the pleasure of revealing to Kennford that we knew about her.
‘Niele?’ Kennford rocked back on his heels, looking shaken, then tried to smile. ‘Where did you dig her up?’
‘Never you mind.’ Derwent frowned and scratched his head, pretending to be puzzled. ‘Here, it wasn’t strictly ethical what you did with her, was it?’
‘It was a private matter. Nothing happened until she was no longer my client. The only point of interest is how we met, and lots of people form relationships with those they meet through work.’
‘You were bloody lucky she never got around to making an official complaint.’ Derwent turned to me. ‘Did you get the feeling she was still a bit annoyed, Maeve? Because I had the impression all she needed was a little bit of encouragement to take it further.’
‘You could be right.’
‘Do you think we should go round and speak to her again? Maybe see how she’s feeling since we raked it all up again?’
‘You can play games with me all
you like but you can’t pretend that Niele isn’t a criminal. No one will believe anything she says.’ The colour had risen in Kennford’s face.
‘Ah ah, Mr Kennford. Not a criminal. All charges were dropped at half-time, weren’t they? Because of your brilliant advocacy, it appears.’
‘What about the fact that she’s an extortionist? How would that go down?’
Derwent shrugged. ‘You tell me. Did you report her for it at the time?’
‘No.’
‘Did you give her any money yourself?’
A muscle in Kennford’s jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. ‘Vita paid her off.’
Derwent shook his head, all in sorrow. ‘But Vita’s not such a great witness any more, is she? Niele can say the money was a gift. It’s probably a defence you’d be happy to run with, if you were her barrister.’
‘She’s a drug addict. Did you know that? And she runs with a bad crowd. Serious criminals, I mean. The sort of people who do violence like that.’ He pointed at the noticeboard that hung behind him, the pictures a symphony in grey and red. They blurred into one image from a distance. Blood on the pavement tended to look the same no matter who had shed it.
‘Her being a druggie and into gang stuff – none of that stopped you from shagging her blind,’ Derwent pointed out.
‘Which was my mistake, I’ll admit. But aside from an error of judgement, I did nothing wrong. It was consensual and it ended. She is exactly as reasonable about it as you would expect her to be, given that I dumped her. Don’t tell me you fell for her “he took advantage of me” line, because it’s bullshit.’
‘She got pregnant, didn’t she?’ Derwent sucked air through his teeth. ‘Would have thought you’d have been more careful, given all you knew about her background and so forth.’
‘Accidents happen.’
‘Accidents leave medical records that will corroborate her case.’
‘She didn’t do a DNA test.’
‘How do you know?’ Derwent dropped the false bonhomie. ‘Listen to me, Mr Kennford. You come in here and threaten us with a formal complaint when we’re just doing our job, so you have to be prepared to get the same treatment. If you want to take this further, feel free. But I will personally go round and sit with your Lithuanian lovely while she writes her letter to the Bar Council, and help her spell all the long words. And even though I might not believe you took advantage of her, I think she’ll convince them very nicely.’