Blood Sinister (6 page)

‘But I understood you were a reporter for the
Ham and Ful
?’

He looked shocked. ‘Oh, not a
reporter
! I do the reviews. Books, theatre, TV. And the interviews and articles – everything on the arts side. Not the music scene – that’s
very
different. Very cliquey. I don’t have the in. But I’m virtually the arts editor, otherwise. I used to be on the stage, of course, so I’ve got the contacts. I come from a long line of theatricals. My parents were in variety. I first went on as a Babe in the Wood at the age of six. Golden curls I had then, if you’ll believe me! I’ve done a bit of everything. From panto to musicals, Shakespeare to Whitehall farce. But I went over to the writing side when my feet let me down. It’s not only that I can’t dance any more, I just couldn’t stand on stage for three hours every night. You wouldn’t believe how it takes it out on the feet, acting. It’s not a thing anyone talks about, really.’

‘Tell me how you first met Phoebe Agnew,’ Slider said.

‘Ooh, that would be – let me think – thirteen, fourteen years ago. Nineteen eighty-five, was it? Back when dinosaurs ruled the earth! My lord, doesn’t the
tempus
fuge when you take your eye off it? Time flies like an arrow – but fruit flies like a banana, as they say! Anyway, I met Phoebe at a Labour fund-raiser. Well, there’s always been a lot of interplay between politics and the theatre. The luvvie connection. I think a lot of politicians are actors
manque´
, don’t you? Especially our present lords and
masters – but never mind, that’s another story. I could tell you some things but I won’t. And the other way round, of course – a lot of actors fancy themselves politicians. I could name names, but nobody loves a gossip.’ He pursed his lips and turned an imaginary key over them.

‘So how did you come to live in the same house?’ Slider pursued.

‘Well, when I met her at this do, she was looking for somewhere, and the flat upstairs happened to be empty. She and I took to each other first minute, we were like brother and sister, so I jumped at the chance of having a soul mate upstairs and she jumped at the chance of a nice let that was cheap
and
central.’ He sighed. ‘If we’d known then what property prices were going to do! We had the chance to buy, and at a price that would make you laugh if I told you it now, but the rent was so reasonable, and neither of us had any dependents, so it hardly seemed worth it. We were quite happy to go on renting. But we were sitting on a gold-mine, if we had but known it. Of course, Sborski would love to get us out now, he could get a fortune selling the flats, but I’ve been there so long I’m a protected tenant, and it wasn’t worth selling the top flat alone. I suppose,’ he added starkly, his verve dissipating for a moment, ‘now Phoebe’s gone, he might sell the rest of the house and just leave me all alone in my basement. Oh, poor me!’

‘You’re not married?’

‘No, I always look like this! Jokette,’ he explained, looking round with a pleased smile. ‘No, seriously, I should have thought it was obvious I’m not the marrying kind.’

‘I don’t like to assume anything,’ Slider said solemnly. ‘So you and Phoebe were close, were you?’

‘She was my best, best friend. She was a wonderful person. She
lived
her principles, and there’s not many you can say that about. Most people just talk about issues, but she got up and
did
something about it. Mind you, we didn’t always agree. I mean, there is such a thing as being
too
liberal. Everything’s so upfront and in-your-face these days. I’ve never made any secret about what I am – where’d be the point? You’ve only got to look at me – but my generation didn’t make a song and dance about it. We kept ourselves to ourselves – and the Brigade of Guards. No, naughty! I didn’t say that!’ He twinkled. ‘But nowadays
everybody seems to want to tell everybody everything, whether they want to know it or not. And then, some of Phoebe’s lame ducks weren’t as lame as they made out, if you ask me. I know a thing or two about persecution, believe you me, and if they were victims I’m the Queen of Sheba’s left tittie! Those two awful men she got let off, who murdered those kiddies. Oh, there might have been some doubt about the evidence, but they did it all right, and as far as I was concerned they were in the right place. Well, we argued about that a few times, I can tell you. But you couldn’t fault her in the intentions department. She was all heart, Phoebe. When they made her they broke the mould.’ His eyes swam again, and he reapplied the handkerchief, sniffing delicately.

Slider nodded sympathetically. ‘Have you any idea who might have wanted to hurt her?’

He shook his head gravely. ‘No, not at all. She didn’t have any personal enemies. She was too good and kind. I suppose some people in authority mightn’t have liked her – she did rather stir up things that
some
might have preferred unstirred – but you don’t murder someone for that, do you? Well, not in this country. No, I can only think it was one of those random attacks. I mean, there are so many drug addicts and nutters on the loose nowadays, aren’t there? Why they ever shut the bins and threw the poor things out on the street I’ll never know! Call me an old softie, but they were much better off locked up inside, being looked after.’

Slider thought Medmenham had got into his stride and was playing to his audience, hearing himself and enjoying the flow of words. It was time to bring him down a bit.

‘So, tell me, why weren’t you at work today?’

‘Oh,’ he said, almost as if he’d been slapped. ‘Well, that’s a straight question if ever I heard one! I had the day off, as it happens. I went to see my mother. She’s not been very well recently.’

‘And where does she live?’

‘In Danbury. It’s near Chelmsford.’

‘Yes, I know where it is,’ Slider said.

‘You do?’ Peter Medmenham seemed very interested in that.

Slider said merely, ‘I’m an Essex boy myself. You went down this morning?’

There was a very slight hesitation. ‘No, last night.’

‘By car? You drove down?’

‘No, I don’t drive, actually. Never got round to learning – well, I’ve always lived in London, so there didn’t seem much point. I took the train. Stayed overnight. Took the Aged Mum out to lunch today, bless her – she loves eating out – and got the train back straight afterwards. I had to hurry to catch it, so I didn’t see a paper until I got to Liverpool Street. That’s when I saw the bit about Phoebe, and I came straight here.’

‘What time did you go out last night?’ Slider asked.

He seemed put out by the question. ‘Me? Last night? Why do you want to know?’

‘Have you some reason not to tell me?’ Slider countered pleasantly.

‘No, of course not. Why should I? Well, if it’s important to you, I left at eight. I wanted to catch the 9.02 from Liverpool Street, and I always leave myself plenty of time to catch trains. With my blessed feet, I can’t afford to have to run for one.’ He looked enquiringly at Slider as if for a quid pro quo.

Slider said, ‘It seems that Phoebe Agnew had a visitor yesterday. I don’t suppose you saw them arrive or leave, did you?’

Medmenham chose to take that as the reason for the previous question, and his face cleared. ‘Oh, I see! Well, I didn’t see him, but I know who it was. It was Josh Prentiss.’

He said the name as though it ought to mean something, and when Slider continued to look politely enquiring, he went on, ‘Goodness, you must have heard of him! He’s the set designer who won the BAFTA award for
Bess and Robin
. Wonderful sets – very dark and moody – and then the Coronation scenes, very sheesh!
Please
don’t tell me you’ve never heard of
Bess and Robin
because, frankly, dear, I shan’t believe you!’

‘I’ve heard of the film,’ Slider acknowledged. Everyone said it was going to sweep the Oscars board this year, and it was being heralded as the harbinger of a new Hollywood love affair with the British film – something that seemed to be harbinged every couple of years with hopeful regularity but never arrived. And these days everyone was supposed to be so interested in the cinema that they not only knew the names of actors, but everyone else involved as well – smart people could discuss the merits of different directors, scriptwriters, producers, even cameramen. Slider felt like a caveman. ‘I hardly ever get to the cinema. No time.’

‘Poor you!’ said Medmenham kindly. ‘Well, Josh is an architect by training and has his own company – very successful, makes oodles of money – but he’s
famous
for his sets. Hollywood’s
mad
to get hold of him, he could name his price, but he doesn’t need the money, so of course he can pick and choose, happy man!’

‘Was he a friend, or did he visit Phoebe on business?’

‘Oh, he and Phoebe are old friends. They go way back. And his wife Noni, too. She was Anona Regan – have you heard of her?’ Slider shook his head. ‘She was an actress, but she never really made it big time. She was in that sitcom a couple of years ago,
Des Res
– you know, about the estate agents?’

‘I don’t think I ever saw it. I don’t get to see much television, either.’ Unless he could bring the conversation round to real ale or the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, Slider feared he was going to end up with
nul points
.

‘Oh, my dear, you didn’t miss anything! It was a spectacular disaster. Flopperissimo! Poor Noni was the best thing in it, and it was a complete kiss of death to her, poor lamb. She was just trying to revive her career, and after that no-one would touch her
avec le
bargepole. Well, she’d never really made a name for herself, but she was a real trouper, and one can’t help feeling sorry for her. Not that she needs the money, of course – Josh has loads – but that’s never why one does it. One lives for one’s art – well, most of the time!’ He smiled again and almost batted his eyelashes.

Slider grabbed the tail of the straying subject. ‘So, if you didn’t see Josh Prentiss, how did you know it was him visiting yesterday?’

‘I saw his car. You see, I knew she had a visitor, because I went and knocked on her door at about a quarter to seven, to see if she was coming down later to watch the serial. You know,
Red Slayer
? The past couple of weeks we’ve been watching it together over a bite of supper in my place. But when she answered the door she said she had someone with her and she couldn’t come.’

‘Did you see him?’

‘No, she didn’t open the door right up, and she stood in the gap so I couldn’t see past her. So I said, all right, I’d tape it and we could watch it some other time.’

‘And what time was the programme on?’

‘Eight till nine.’

‘But you were leaving at eight to catch your train,’ Slider pointed out.

He turned just a little pink, for some reason. ‘Well, that’s when I decided to go up yesterday instead of today. If I was going to tape the serial there was no point in staying in, so I thought I might as well go to Chelmsford. And it was when I left for the station’, he hurried on, ‘that I saw Josh’s car. It was parked further down, and I passed it on my way to the tube.’

‘You know his car?’

‘I’ve seen him arrive in it enough times. It’s a Jaguar – one of those sleek, sporty-looking ones.’

‘An XJS?’

Medmenham smiled charmingly. ‘If you say so. I wouldn’t know. It’s dark blue, and the registration letters are FRN, which I remember because they always make me think of the word “fornicator” – heaven knows why!’

‘Is Prentiss a fornicator?’ Slider asked.

‘Oh, good heavens, it’s not for me to say!’ Medmenham cried. ‘Though if he were, one shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, he’s an architect. What’s that old rhyme?
Roads and bridges, docks and piers, that’s the stuff for engineers. Wine and women, drugs and sex, that’s the stuff for architects
.’

‘You seem to be trying to suggest’, Slider said, ‘that Prentiss was Phoebe Agnew’s lover.’

‘Do I? Oh dear, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,’ Medmenham said with artificial blankness.

‘Did he often visit?’

‘I believe so. She often talked about him and I’d seen him in there from time to time. As I said, they were old friends. She’d known him even longer than me.’

‘Did he always visit alone, or did his wife come too?’

‘I never saw Noni there, but of course I didn’t watch her door every hour. But Phoebe went to their house too, so she saw Noni there. It was all above board. For all I know, they met for lunch every day.’

The blue eyes were round and expressionless and the lips were pursed like a doll’s. It was hard to know what he was trying to suggest or not suggest.

‘Did Phoebe have lovers, that you knew of?’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ he said. ‘I don’t know of anyone specifically, but I mean she was a gorgeous woman, with that lovely hair, and skin like a newborn babe, though she never really bothered much about glamour, knocked about in a pair of old leggings and a floppy jumper. I said to her many a time, you’ve got legs most women would die for, darling, yet you never, ever show them – and between you and me,’ he added confidentially to Swilley, ‘she was one of those lucky creatures who never even had to shave them. But she wore trousers
all the time
,’ he tutted. ‘Still, she never had any shortage of men admiring her. And not only for her intellect, fabulous though it was.’ Again, the bland stare. ‘I’m sure she had all the affairs she wanted. Not that I knew anything about them. She was always discreet. No names, no pack drill. I certainly never heard her mention any man’s name, or heard her name coupled with anyone else’s in that context, by anyone.’