Body Line (22 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

BOOK: Body Line
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‘It all sounds a bit strange to me,’ Slider said thoughtfully. ‘Why would Rogers suddenly turn into a groper?’

‘You don’t know it was sudden,’ Swilley said. ‘Only that he hadn’t got into trouble for it before. He was a ladies’ man, everyone says so. Maybe he just couldn’t resist it whenever he saw it.’

‘Well, I don’t know that it’s got us any further forward,’ Slider said, dissatisfied. ‘Except for knowing that Amanda was right there on the spot – which must have made the shock and anger greater.’

‘And this Mr Webber comes out as the good guy,’ Swilley said. ‘Helping his mate out of a jam.’

‘Maybe he was just trying to save the reputation of the practice,’ Connolly said. ‘Doesn’t mean he’s a heart of gold.’

‘But still, there’s something odd about it,’ Slider murmured, deep in thought. He roused himself to praise Emily. ‘You did a good job.’

‘Thanks.’ Emily looked pleased. ‘I’d better get off, now. I have to get on with my Irish story for the Sundays. But I’ll get these notes written up this afternoon and email them to you straight away. And, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll look into these other two women who were on the spot – Eunice and Anthea. Maybe they’d have a different take on it, if I could track them down.’

ELEVEN

Penguin Gavotte

F
rith was looking troubled and anxious, but as soon as Slider appeared he chose indignant as his motif du jour.

‘Look, what the hell’s going on? I’ve got a business to run. I can’t keep running back and forth to Shepherd’s Bush. What is it you want that’s so urgent?’

Slider tried direct for his. ‘Your fingerprints.’

Frith’s hairline slid back. ‘
What
? You’re joking! My
fingerprints
? For Christ’s sake, you can’t really think I had anything to do with David’s death. Why on earth would I kill him?’

‘You didn’t like him,’ Atherton answered over Slider’s shoulder.

Frith only looked angrier. ‘What was there to like? He was a smarmy womanizer who made Amanda’s life miserable, but it’s
murder
we’re talking about. You don’t just murder someone because you don’t like them. Ordinary people don’t kill other people anyway. What world are you people living in? I wouldn’t murder my worst enemy, let alone—’ He ran a distracted hand backwards through his hair. ‘I mean, come
on
! This is not the Wild West.’

‘We want your fingerprints in order to eliminate you from our enquiries,’ Slider said, cutting through the whirlwind.

‘Oh.’ Frith jolted like a man who has gone up the step that isn’t there. He took a beat to think, and then came back with a revival of resentment. ‘I don’t understand why you should ever have considered me anyway. What did I ever do to have the police on my back for this
preposterous
notion?’

Preposterous. Slider liked it. A bit of hedgication never done no one no ’arm, he thought. ‘There were some superficial reasons for taking you into consideration,’ he said, the still, small voice of calm. ‘At the beginning of an investigation like this we have to take the broadest view and gradually whittle it down. I’m sorry you have been inconvenienced, but your fingerprints should settle the matter and we won’t need to bother you again.’

‘I’ve a good mind to refuse,’ Frith said sulkily. ‘The idea that you should ever have considered me . . . What were these “superficial reasons”?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t go into that at present.’

‘And you’ve caused me no end of trouble. People in Sarratt are looking at me sideways, I have three cancellations, and – what the hell did you say to Amanda? She’s been giving me the silent treatment, looking at me as if—’ Something occurred to him. ‘You didn’t tell her about Sue?’

‘No,’ said Slider. ‘We haven’t spoken to her since you last came in. But before that we had asked her to confirm what time you left in the morning on Monday, because you had told your employees you were working from home and then going to an appointment.’

‘You told her that? Oh God!’ He buried his face in his hands. ‘No wonder she’s so frosty with me,’ he said, muffled. ‘What a mess!’

Slider was interested. ‘You mean she hasn’t spoken to you about that? About your whereabouts on Monday?’

Frith shook his head. ‘Biding her time,’ he mourned. ‘She’ll hold back until she’s ready, and then pounce.’ He emerged from his hands and stared gloomily at Slider. ‘Oh well, since you’ve already ruined my life, you might as well have my fingerprints and get it over with.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Slider said. ‘It won’t take a minute. If you’d come this way, please.’

Frith got up and followed him. ‘It
wasn’t
me, you know,’ he said. ‘I’m the last person. I’ve shot plenty of birds in my time. I even had a go at shooting wild pig when I was over for the Atlanta Olympics. But I could never shoot a human being – not deliberately.’

‘That’s interesting. I didn’t know you were familiar with firearms,’ Slider said.

‘Oh God! Now what? You’re not going to—?’

‘Don’t worry. As a matter of fact I think that if you
had
killed David Rogers in cold blood, you would have supplied yourself with a better alibi.’

‘In cold blood? You mean—?’

‘It was planned, yes.’

Frith was silent as they walked down the corridor to the processing area. As they turned in at the door, he said, ‘You know, I’m almost sorry for him now. David. He was a selfish bastard, but he didn’t deserve that.’

‘The thing that intrigues me,’ Slider said as they went back upstairs, ‘is why Frith and Sturgess haven’t discussed this business.’

‘He wouldn’t discuss his dodgy alibi with her,’ Atherton said. ‘It would mean revealing that he had a mistress.’

‘True, but why hasn’t
she
tackled
him
about it?’

‘He said she’s giving him the cold shoulder.’

‘But don’t you think that’s uncharacteristically indirect?’

‘Too many long words.’

‘Wouldn’t it be more like her to jump on him as soon as he comes in and shout, “Where the hell were you on Monday?”’

‘Maybe she doesn’t want to know,’ Atherton said after a moment’s thought.

‘Or maybe,’ Slider said slowly, ‘she’s happy enough to have us chasing after him, knowing it’ll get us nowhere.’

‘We’ll never know,’ said Atherton, thinking that was an uncharacteristically long line in supposing from his boss. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll want to tell her we’ve fingerprinted him, for the same reason – it’d open up the whole “where were you” debate. So they’ll tiptoe round each other on the thin ice, saying nothing and darting frosty looks, in a sort of hostile penguin gavotte.’

Slider turned his head, and blinked. ‘That conjures up quite an image.’

‘It was meant to,’ said Atherton. ‘It’s called metaphor.’

‘Come to think of it, there
is
something penguin-like about Sturgess, with that long neck and long nose.’

‘Penguins don’t have long noses. What are you doing tonight?’

‘Beaks, then. Nothing. Joanna’s home. Why? Do you and Emily want to come over?’

‘Is that an invitation?’

‘Why do you need inviting? You never did before.’

‘Ah, but you’re a family man now. It’s different,’ Atherton said, and Slider realized, with just a hint of wistfulness, that it was.

‘Hello, is that Miss Connolly. Detective Connolly? I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you.’

‘This is Rita Connolly. How can I help you?’

‘It’s Cat here – Cat Aude. Um, I’ve got something – I don’t know if you want it. I don’t know if it’s important. But I thought – well, you know, the investigation and everything, I thought you might be wondering where it is. So I thought—’

‘What are we talking about here?’ Connolly cut through the babble. ‘What’ve you got?’

‘His mobile. David’s mobile.’

‘We’ve that already,’ Connolly said. ‘It was in his jacket pocket in the dressing-room.’

‘No, I’ve got it,’ Aude said confidently. ‘See, like I told you, when I ran back in the bedroom, after I realized what’s happened, I was gonna phone the police, and his mobile was there on the bedside table, and I grabbed it, but then the man started coming upstairs and I had to get away, and I dropped it into my pocket, and that’s where it’s been all the time. That bathrobe, you know, the one David lends me when I’m at his place – that’s what I was wearing, and I took it off in the hospital and they put it in a plastic bag, and I took it home with me – well, that policewoman brought me clothes from home. And I’ve never taken it out of the bag since. But now I’ve come home again and I had to do some washing—’

‘Wait-wait-wait – you’re back home? In Putney?’

‘Yeah, well, it was getting on me nerves being at me mum’s. I mean, I’d got nothing to do, and no money, and me mum’s, like, going on and on at me about David and how I ought to date a man of my own age so I’ve got some chance of getting married and giving her grandchildren – she goes on and on about grandchildren. It’s like an obsession with her. Honestly—’

‘But you were there for your own safety,’ Connolly pointed out. ‘Could you not put up with it a bit longer? Wait’ll we catch your man?’

‘No, I can’t stick it. You don’t know what she’s like. And I have to go to work. I’ve got rent to pay and everything. You said on the telly that I didn’t see his face so he’s got no reason to come after me.’

‘Well, I can’t make you stay away, but I strongly recommend—’

‘Oh, I’ll be all right. But the thing is, do you want this mobile? Cos I could drop it on my way to work tonight. I go more or less right past.’

‘You’re going back to Jiffies?’

‘I have to. I need the money. And some of the customers have been asking for me. As an entertainer, I have a responsibility to my audience.’

Gak, thought Connolly. But she said, ‘You be careful. And about this mobile – are you sure it’s David’s? Because I told you we found that in his pocket.’

‘Well, he must have had two,’ Aude said certainly, ‘because there it was on his bedside table and it’s not mine.’

‘Right, so, we’d better have it.’

‘And I won’t get into trouble for not bringing it before? Only, I’d forgotten all about it.’

‘Very natural, in the circumstances. No, you won’t get into trouble.’

‘If she’s not worried, it’s not our business to worry for her,’ Slider said.

‘No, sir, but she’s a bit of a gom, for all her thinking she’s so sophisticated. I just feel nervous for her.’

‘We can’t force her to stay in Guildford,’ he pointed out. ‘And I don’t really think there’s any danger. We made it clear she couldn’t identify the killer. What about this mobile?’

‘Like she says, your man must’ve had two.’ She handed it over. ‘It wasn’t switched off so the battery’s run down. Have to charge it up before it’ll work.’

‘There’s a selection of chargers in the CID room. Put it straight on, then we can have a look at last number redial.’

‘Yes, sir. But it occurs to me that no one could’ve rung it this week gone, or she’d surely have heard it ringing.’

‘His death was announced in the papers,’ Slider pointed out.

‘But his name wasn’t given until Tuesday,’ Connolly countered. ‘If anyone’d rung it Monday, there it was on a chair in the hospital room. And even after Tuesday, not everyone’d’ve known right off he was dead. Some people don’t read the papers, and it’d take time for word to get about.’

‘What’s your point?’

‘I’m not sure I have one,’ Connolly said with a disarming smile. ‘It just struck me as weird.’

‘I’ll take it under advisement,’ Slider said gravely.

Many had been the brainstorming session, generally at Atherton’s place, with him popping in and out of the kitchen, doing magic with a few ingredients, the Van Gogh of the limited palette, while Slider, and later Joanna, and later still Emily as well, sat by the fire inhaling large G&Ts for the better stimulation of thought. It wasn’t the same at Slider’s new house – couldn’t be. The kitchen was too far from the sitting-room, for one thing. And there were no cats. Slider made the G&Ts just as large in the hope of getting back some of the old atmosphere. But with Atherton corralled in the kitchen, with Dad as skivvy (Slider had held his breath – Atherton had split up with his previous girlfriend Sue partly over culinary differences – but Dad was the soul of tact and an intuitive helper) the conversation had to be social rather than work-related until the starter had been eaten (potted shrimps with ciabatta toast) and they were all settled round the ten-pound table with the main course. It was a tomato, mushroom and goat’s cheese tart with baby new potatoes and broccoli.

Dad was very impressed with it. ‘It didn’t take him any time at all to make it,’ he marvelled. ‘I could do that myself for you and Joanna if you needed a quick supper. Put it together in five minutes—’

‘I cheated,’ Atherton said. ‘Used bought pastry.’

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