by Casey, Jane
‘I think she’s new, from what Rob said. Still settling in.’
‘How’s she doing?’
‘Honestly? Not that well.’ I told him about the surveillance operation that had gone wrong. ‘I think they’re a bit hacked off with her.’
‘Yeah, and by the looks of things she hasn’t learned any lessons about not sleeping with people she works with.’ He saw the look on my face. ‘Sorry, Kerrigan. I didn’t mean––’
‘Rob? Yes, you did. But I don’t think they have slept together.’
Instead of answering, Derwent sipped coffee.
‘Okay, you don’t have to believe me.’
‘What did he say about it?’
It was my turn to concentrate on drinking rather than talking.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t ask him.’
‘I have to wait for the right time.’
‘And last night wasn’t it?’
‘Definitely not.’ He’d got in at four, by which time I had been pretty sure I wasn’t going to get any sleep at all. I let him think I was out cold, and when I’d left earlier, he’d been facedown in the pillow himself. ‘There just wasn’t a good opportunity.’
‘So what makes you think he’s not scratching her itch?’
I shuddered. ‘That is a vile expression, but if you must know, it’s because I don’t think he would do that.’
Derwent snorted. ‘Too honourable?’
‘Too honest.’ I flinched from the look on Derwent’s face. ‘He is, okay? He’s always been completely direct with me. Not one for games, usually. Besides, he made a big deal out of me being there. No one could have missed the fact that we were together.’
‘Trying to persuade Debbie to back off while you were there.’
‘Or he might have been trying to show her that he is in a serious relationship and just not interested in her.’
‘You’ll have to talk to him and find out, won’t you?’
‘Mm.’ I wasn’t looking forward to it. ‘It does make sense though. There’s been something bothering him since he started working there. What if Debbie has been chasing him since the start?’
‘Seems likely. He’s a good-looking lad, objectively speaking.’
‘I’ve always thought so.’ I couldn’t resist it. ‘You and Debbie still have the same taste in men, I see.’
‘That’s bang out of order, Kerrigan.’ He glared, not even slightly amused. As so often with Derwent, his revenge wasn’t slow to come. ‘It’s tricky for him, though. Because Debs was never big on taking no for an answer. Once she’d decided she was going to have someone, she wouldn’t back down. And Rob’s just joined the Flying Squad so he’s not going to be keen to transfer, is he? Looks as if he’s going to have to keep playing hard to get until she gets bored and moves on, or give in.’
‘For what it’s worth, I don’t like option two.’
‘For what it’s worth, I don’t think Debbie is going to like option one. Interesting times, Kerrigan. Keep me in the loop, won’t you?’
When hell froze over and not before, I promised myself silently, but all Derwent got was a smile.
I’d never seen anyone more eager to leave anywhere that wasn’t a prison. Lydia was sitting in the hall of her aunt’s house waiting for us, and gave every sign of having been there for hours.
‘I’m ready.’ She stood up and shouldered a bag that looked far too heavy for her. ‘Can we go?’
‘I’d like to have a word with Mrs Fairfax first, if she’s about.’ Derwent looked enquiringly at the housekeeper, but it was Lydia who answered.
‘She’s probably busy.’
‘Not too busy to say goodbye to you, surely.’ Derwent was pouring on the charm again; I really wished he wouldn’t bother.
‘I don’t think she’s available,’ the housekeeper murmured.
‘What does that mean? Is she here?’
‘Mrs Fairfax is working.’
‘Well, tell her it’s time for a tea break.’
‘She’s with a client.’
‘What is she, a dominatrix?’ He saw the look on my face. ‘Sorry.’
‘She probably could be if she wanted to.’ Lydia gave us a tight, self-contained smile as we turned to stare at her.
‘You shouldn’t even know what that word means,’ Derwent said.
‘I’m fifteen, not five.’
And she’d got her self-possession back in a big way, it seemed. I was starting to think I should have brought Derwent with me for the original interview, as he’d wanted. Lydia was tapping her foot.
‘Look, can we go? I don’t want to be late.’
‘Not yet, sweetheart. But we can put your bag in the car.’ He turned to the housekeeper. ‘Listen, love, I want to talk to Mrs Fairfax. You go and get her, and I’ll be back in five minutes.’
The housekeeper opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, recognising that Derwent was not prepared to be reasonable. I didn’t envy her. I wouldn’t have wanted to piss off either of them.
At the car, Lydia made to get into the back seat.
‘You can sit in the front.’
She looked at me, then at Derwent. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m driving. DI Derwent is going to be in the back seat.’ We had agreed it on the way to the house, on the grounds that Lydia was more likely to talk to me, and it would be easier to stop her from tuning out if she was sitting beside me.
‘I like the back of the car,’ Derwent explained. ‘I can catch up on my paperwork.’
‘He means sleep,’ I said, and got a wan smile from Lydia. I looked past her. ‘There’s Mrs Fairfax.’
‘Lovely.’ Derwent sounded more confident than he should have, given the expression on her face. She was in grey trousers and a black shirt today, in silky material that billowed around her slender body, and her arms were folded tightly. She stood in the doorway, watching.
‘I don’t think she’s coming over,’ I said diffidently.
‘Then we’ll go to her.’
I turned back to Lydia, to find that she had disappeared into the car like a tortoise retreating into its shell. I bent down. ‘Are you okay? Do you mind waiting while we talk to your aunt?’
A nod.
‘Want to say goodbye?’
She shook her head.
‘Is everything okay, Lydia?’
‘I just want to go.’ Her voice had dropped to just above a whisper.
‘We’ll be on our way soon.’
It took far longer than I had anticipated, even though Renee wasn’t prepared to give us long, and Derwent didn’t want to take more than the bare minimum of her time once he’d been exposed to her brand of charm for a minute or two.
‘Good riddance. She’s been nothing but trouble.’
‘That’s not very charitable, Mrs Fairfax. She’s a victim, isn’t she?’
‘I don’t know about that. All I know is that we have suffered unwanted attention of various sorts since she’s been here. I’ve had meetings disrupted. I’ve had to take her to hospital to have her stitches done again – did you know that? She got blood all over an antique pillowcase before she told me she needed help. And no one has been the slightest bit interested in finding out about the strange man who was trespassing in the garden on Tuesday night.’
‘What strange man?’ Derwent was looking bewildered.
She snorted. ‘Typical. They haven’t even told you about it. I saw a strange man down there.’ She pointed a long, bony finger in the direction of the river. ‘Late at night. He was lurking.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘He was wearing black. Hiding behind bushes. Spying on the house.’
‘Did you call the police?’
‘Of course.’
‘What happened?’
‘A police car turned up forty minutes later, after I had done their job for them.’
‘What did you do?’ I asked, alarmed.
‘I went out with a torch to show the man we knew he was th
ere. He ran away.’
‘That was brave,’ Derwent said. ‘Considering what happened to your sister and niece not that long ago.’
‘I’m not going to hide in my own home. If someone wants to loiter on my property, they’re going to need to explain themselves.’
‘He didn’t try to talk to you?’
‘No. Ran like a rabbit.’
I looked at Derwent. ‘Journalist, maybe?’
‘Could be. Did he have a camera?’
‘I didn’t search him. I rather thought that was your job.’
‘But the response car didn’t find him, I take it.’
‘He was long gone by then.’
‘I’m going to need a description,’ Derwent said, leaving it to me to go to the trouble of writing it down. Renee didn’t manage much detail. Dark clothes. Aged twenty to thirty, she thought. Average height. Dark hair. Caucasian.
‘And I do mean white,’ she said. ‘Very pale.’
‘What time was this?’ I asked.
‘Ten. Half past. Something like that.’
‘It would have been pretty dark.’
‘So?’
‘Skin tone can be hard to judge at dawn and dusk.’ It was my diplomatic way of saying that the main point she had been able to recall about her mystery man wouldn’t necessarily help us to track him down. ‘Can you remember anything about his hairstyle? Or his features? Or what he was wearing?’
‘I’ve told you all I know. I didn’t really get a good look.’
‘And no sign of him since,’ Derwent checked.
‘Thankfully, no.’
I looked at Derwent meaningfully. It could be our killer. It could be nothing. Either way, we had no chance of tracing him based on what we’d been told so far.
Renee looked past us to the car. ‘I don’t want to sound unsympathetic but I wish we hadn’t been involved in this whole mess. I don’t understand why Philip thought I’d be the right person to look after her.’
‘I think he was desperate,’ Derwent said with more truth than politeness.
‘And still is, if he’s got his other daughter to take her on.’ Renee shook her head. ‘Now she is a bad influence.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I asked.
‘Vita told me about her and her preferences. Disgusting. But then, what do you expect with a father like that?’
‘That’s what you were going to say the other morning.’ It had been bothering me. ‘You stopped yourself, but you were going to refer to her being a lesbian, weren’t you? You didn’t want to in front of Lydia.’
‘I didn’t want to talk about her in front of the girl. Vita asked me what I thought of Savannah and I made it quite clear I thought she shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the twins. Even before she declared herself a lesbian.’ She shook her immaculate hair back from the smooth white forehead. ‘Not the sort of person you would encourage teenagers to emulate.’
‘She’s very beautiful and very successful,’ Derwent pointed out.
‘She’s an unpleasant little scrubber. I met her at Vita’s house once. I wasn’t impressed.’ She sniffed. ‘Philip traded up when he met Vita. Miranda had no class and nor did her daughter. I told Vita she would drag her girls down into the gutter, and thankfully she listened to me.’
‘You brought about the estrangement between Philip Kennford and his daughter,’ I said.
‘That was one positive influence I was able to bring to bear on them, yes.’
‘Is it fair to say you’re a bit of a snob?’ Derwent asked, completely deadpan.
‘Fuck off, Detective. Just fuck off.’
‘You know there are people who’d pay to be sworn at by posh birds, don’t you? You could make a fair bit. Phone sex is what I mean. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it – at least it’s clean work.’
The colour was standing in her cheeks, but her lips were pressed together as if she was keeping a torrent of words back, with difficulty.
‘I’m only joking.’ He wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand to provoke a grimace of disgust from Renee. ‘Did you ever give your sister any good advice?’
‘I told her not to have anything to do with Philip’s bastard offspring.’
‘The Lithuanian girl’s baby,’ Derwent said. ‘She paid her off anyway.’
‘Was she Lithuanian? I thought she was black, but I probably had that wrong.’ Renee looked vague for a second. ‘I don’t recall, I’m afraid. The girl turned up last year. Vita asked me what to do. I said ignore, deny, reject until she goes away.’
‘Did Philip know about her?’
‘I told Vita if she was wise she wouldn’t say anything. You never know when a man is going to lose his head over a child, whatever they look like. She had a hard enough time to get him to acknowledge her and the girls.’
‘Which explains the running and face creams and sex toys,’ Derwent said. ‘To get him to pay attention to her.’
If Renee had been capable of a full frown, she’d have produced one at that point. ‘I don’t choose to think about that aspect of my sister’s life.’
‘Sex?’
‘Quite.’ She looked chilled. ‘It’s none of your business either.’
‘Everything is our business.’ Derwent said it flippantly but there was a truth to it.
‘Well, my business is luxury, and luxury includes not having to wait around. So if you’re finished, I have clients waiting for me.’
‘Time we went.’ He doffed an imaginary cap. ‘Thank you for your input, Mrs Fairfax. Very helpful.’
I think she would have liked to tell him to screw himself, but didn’t quite want to run the risk that he’d find it kinky. She settled for slamming the door as hard as she could. Derwent stared at it.
‘That went well, I think.’
‘Better than last time I met her, believe it or not.’
‘That’s because you don’t do charm, Kerrigan.’
‘And charm is telling someone they’d make a killing at phone sex?’
‘She loved it.’ He shook his head. ‘I knew I should have been here all along. Watch Lydia fall for me.’
‘Like a ton of bricks, I’m sure.’ I read over the description again. ‘What do you think of the man?’
‘The dark stranger? Media or a figment of her imagination, five’ll get you ten.’
‘I’d never gamble with you.’
‘I’ve got the luck.’
‘You’d cheat.’ I hesitated. ‘So nothing to worry about.’
‘Probably not.’ He shrugged. ‘How are you going to trace him, Kerrigan? Even if he was picking his nails with a machete while he was standing in the garden, we’d still have to find him to talk to him, and scary Renee scared him off.’
‘Worth double-checking what the response team were told. They might have more on him.’
‘Yeah, you might as well waste your time that way as any other.’
‘The description didn’t ring any bells for you?’
Derwent’s forehead crinkled as he considered it. ‘Not much to go on. It’s the classic dark stranger.’
‘It’s a description that matches Christopher Blacker quite well, I thought.’
‘Fuck. You’re right.’
‘Yeah. It might be worth showing her a picture of Mr Blacker.’
‘Even though she didn’t get a good look at him.’
‘Well, you never know if a photo might remind her.’
‘You think we should be more interested in Christopher Blacker, don’t you?’
‘I don’t want to think that,’ I said, being honest. ‘I liked him, or I thought I did. He was pretty charming.’
‘But maybe that was the plan. Charm you, pretend not to be bothered about his life turning to shit, plot to destroy Philip Kennford’s.’
‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’
‘I think we should go and see Mr Blacker. Just to say hello.’
‘We don’t have any evidence,’ I pointed out.
‘Not a hair to prove he was here. Nothing that connects him to the crime scene. And if you do confront him without any evidence, you’re just warning him to be more careful.’
Derwent rubbed his eyes. ‘Okay. I’ll put in a request for surveillance on him. Get them to monitor him for a few days. I doubt I’ll get permission to do it for longer without having anything against him.’
‘We could try for a search warrant. Have a look through his flat, see if there’s anything suspicious there.’
‘Like a great big knife? I’d love to, but then we’d have to let him know we were interested in him.’ Derwent sighed. ‘Leave him in ignorance a bit longer, Kerrigan. Let him think we’ve forgotten all about him. If he steps out of line, we’ll be ready.’
We crossed the gravel to the car, where Lydia was waiting.
‘That Renee. What a cow.’ He said it to me but Lydia heard, and a smile flashed across her face. He bent down. ‘Good to go?’
‘Yep.’
‘Then let’s get out of here.’
It was easier said than done. The traffic was appalling all the way to the M25 where roadworks had closed two lanes, causing mayhem. Derwent was asleep before we’d got through the chaos, head back, snoring uninhibitedly. I glanced across at Lydia.
‘See? I told you he’d pass out.’
‘Does he always do that?’
‘What, sleep in the car? No. But that’s just because he’s usually driving.’
‘So why isn’t he driving now?’
Because I was hoping you’d confide in me. ‘Because he’s tired, I suppose.’
‘Oh.’ She looked out of the window at an estate car that was loaded with holiday clutter: suitcases, buckets and spades, and bikes bolted to the back. There were three children in the back seat. I had already peered in to check they were all strapped into their car seats. It was sheer habit. ‘Do you think they’re going or coming back?’ Lydia asked.
‘Going, by the looks of things.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘The car’s pretty tidy so they took their time over packing. And they all look happy.’ The child nearest us turned and saw us watching them. He stuck out his tongue as far as it would go. ‘Charming.’
Lydia laughed and waved at him. ‘We deserved it. We shouldn’t have been spying on them.’