Authors: Jane Casey
‘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.’
‘It’s the only good thing about being stuck in traffic. You can be properly nosy about other people’s lives.’
‘That’s your job, isn’t it?’
I looked at her, surprised. ‘I suppose so. That and trying to make sure people who have done bad things get punished.’
She looked out of the window, away from me. ‘What would happen to the person who killed Laura and Mum if you caught them?’
‘Prison.’
‘For long?’
‘For ever, potentially.’ I hesitated. ‘It would depend on the circumstances.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘How old they were. Why they did it.’
‘If they had a good reason?’ She sounded uncertain.
‘No. More if they were ill, and that was what made them do it, they might end up in hospital instead of prison.’
She nodded and went back to looking out. She had washed her hair that morning and it blew in the breeze as we got clear of the traffic and picked up some speed. It was whipping around her face so I couldn’t see her.
‘Lydia, do you know who killed Laura and your mum?’
‘No.’ The answer was immediate.
‘What about Laura’s boyfriend?’
‘What about him?’
‘Do you know his name?’
‘I told you I didn’t.’
‘Yes, but that was a few days ago. I thought maybe you might have remembered.’
‘How could I remember if I didn’t know about him?’
‘I suppose you couldn’t.’
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’
I shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if you knew more than you let on to us. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if you were trying to protect Laura. It’s just frustrating for us because we really need to talk to him, to rule him out.’
‘You think he might have killed them?’
‘I don’t know, but I know better than to discount the possibility before we’ve talked to him. People do strange things for love. We know Laura was supposed to be meeting someone the night she died, but whoever it was, she kept it a secret from her friends. Maybe it was him.’
‘Maybe.’
‘If we had Laura’s phone we might be able to trace him.’
She didn’t say anything.
‘We still haven’t found it, Lydia. We’re still trying to get access to Laura’s emails too. At the moment we don’t know anything about her, really.’
‘I don’t know what you want me to do.’ I had to strain to hear her over the engine.
‘Just talk to us, Lydia. Trust us. You can’t do anything to hurt Laura or her memory. The best thing you can do is help us to find her killer.’
‘I would if I could.’ Her hands were knotted in her lap and I felt terrible; I was basically bullying her.
‘Just give it some thought.’
She didn’t answer and I settled down to concentrate on making time, pushing the car as fast as I reasonably could. When she spoke, it was so soft that I almost missed it. ‘Laura was angry with Mum about something.’
‘What?’
‘She was upset about something Mum had done last week.’
‘What sort of thing?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I heard her talking to someone on her phone last Thursday. I was in the bathroom between our bedrooms, brushing my teeth. I don’t think she knew I was there.’
‘What did she say?’
‘I don’t remember exactly. Something like, “It’s typical of Mum. I can’t believe she won’t even let you talk to him.”’
‘Anything else?’
‘She said it was none of Mum’s business anyway and she’d try to sort it out. And then she said “Sunday night.”’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive. Because then when she said she was going out, I assumed it was connected.’
‘Do you think she might have been talking to her boyfriend?’
‘I don’t know.’ Lydia picked at a bit of dry skin beside her thumbnail. ‘Maybe. She said, “I really want to see you.” It could have been him.’
‘What if Laura wanted to introduce him to your parents and mentioned him to your mother first to see what kind of reaction she might get? Is that likely?’
‘Maybe. Laura found it easier to talk to Mum, even though it often ended up with them shouting at one another.’
‘So it wasn’t unusual for her to be angry with her.’
Lydia shook her head. ‘Not like this. She basically didn’t speak to Mum after that call. Until the night she died, I mean. Laura was more the kind of person who would scream and throw things, so it was weird.’
‘What did your mum think?’
‘She tried to talk to her. She asked me what was wrong, but I didn’t know.’
‘Did you ask Laura?’
‘No. I knew she wouldn’t tell me. She liked having secrets. She was always the leader and I just followed her. Or not.’
‘People always say twins are so close.’
‘We weren’t, really. We didn’t have a lot in common. But I loved her and she loved me.’ Lydia swallowed. ‘I think she was trying to protect me, you know. I don’t think she wanted me to know what was upsetting her so I wouldn’t get involved. She was always trying to look after me. Like she was two years older than me, not two minutes.’
‘Was she more grown-up than you generally?’
‘I suppose.’ Lydia was looking out of her window again, her head turned away. ‘She was in a hurry to grow up, Mum used to say. She couldn’t wait to leave home. She thought Dad was deluded about keeping us under control.’
‘Which explains her rebellion. Having a boyfriend, I mean.’
‘That and everything else she could think of.’ Lydia sounded far older than her years sometimes, austere and disapproving like a maiden aunt. ‘She was always pushing them. She liked to find some way of getting at them – some way of challenging them. It didn’t matter what it was. She loved getting them to be angry with her.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
Lydia shivered. ‘I hated it. Every meal out, every car journey, it was always the same. She’d start a fight to see what would happen. Mum said she’d inherited it from Dad, but he said he wasn’t going to take the blame for it.’
‘And you just wanted to be left alone.’
‘Exactly.’ Lydia looked at me in surprise. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Just the impression I had.’
‘Well, that’s how it was.’
So Laura had found something – or someone – to use to torment her parents. And Lydia hadn’t wanted to know what it was. I gritted my teeth, trying not to show my frustration. There was no point for one thing; that opportunity had been lost. Besides, there was a good chance that if she’d
been
a bit more curious about it, we might have found ourselves investigating her death too.
The two of us relapsed into silence, a silence that was only broken by gentle snores from the back seat until we turned off the motorway and on to some winding country lanes. Derwent woke up with a snort.
‘Where are we?’
‘Good question.’ I slowed to negotiate a humpbacked bridge. ‘If you hadn’t broken your satnav, we might have a clue.’
‘You don’t need satnav if you’ve got a map.’ Derwent scrabbled for the road atlas he kept on the back window.
‘I seriously doubt this road is marked on your map. I haven’t seen a name. Besides, you need to know where you are in the first place. And we’re lost.’
‘Didn’t Savannah give you directions?’ Lydia asked.
‘They don’t seem to make a lot of sense.’ I handed her the sheet of paper with scribbled instructions on it.
‘Turn right at the white gate,’ she read. ‘Take the second left after that, beside the brown cow.’
Derwent brightened. ‘Is that a pub? They’re always good landmarks. We can ask some local yokels to direct us.’
‘I think she means an actual cow,’ I said.
‘What? That’s ridiculous.’
‘Well, it’s what we’ve got.’
‘Have you got a phone number for her?’