Until It's Over (8 page)

Chapter Nine

‘Did you touch the body?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

The police officer looked disappointed. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

‘I didn’t know she was dead,’ I said. ‘I thought she might be injured. I thought she might need help.’

His expression softened. ‘I can see that.’ He stepped closer. ‘Are you all right? Would you like to talk to a WPC?’

‘What for?’

‘They’re trained,’ he said.

There was a long pause.

‘The window,’ he said. ‘That was you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ve caused quite a disturbance.’

‘As I said, I thought she might be ill. It seemed urgent.’

He looked round at the shattered window. ‘Looks a bit drastic,’ he said.

‘I couldn’t think of anything else.’ Behind him, the hallway was crowded. There were other police officers, people dressed in white like doctors. Outside, vehicles were coming and going.

‘So, Miss erm…’

‘Bell.’

‘Why were you here, Miss Bell?’

‘I’m just a bike messenger,’ I said. ‘That’s my bike outside.’

‘Do you know this woman?’ he said.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ve been to the house a few times.’

‘Why did you come today?’

‘The office rang me about a package.’ There was a silence. ‘I’m sorry. ‘I’ve got nothing else to say. I mean, I can’t think of anything.’

The officer rubbed his chin as if he was trying to think of another question but couldn’t. ‘I know that this has been a terribly shocking experience for you. But we’re going to ask you to come in with us and give a full statement.’ He looked at me, surprised by my expression. ‘I’m sorry, is there something funny about that?’

‘No, no,’ I said. ‘Not at all. I was just startled. I’d never talked to a policeman before. And now I’ve given two statements in a month.’

‘Really?’ said the officer. ‘What about?’

So I had to tell him about my bike accident and my encounter with Peggy Farrell. I thought he’d find it curious, funny even in a grim kind of way, but almost immediately his face become serious and he told me to stop and wait and he left the room.

I was becoming an expert on police interview rooms. Two officers drove me down the hill to another police station. They wouldn’t let me ride my bike. It would be brought, I was told. They drove into the rear car park and I was led in through a back entrance. I was met by a WPC, who took me through to my next interview room. There wasn’t much to tell it apart from the other. Instead of beige walls, it had institutional light green. I sat on a plastic chair and was left alone. I took out my phone. There were about ninety-seven messages from Campbell and others. I rang Campbell.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ he said.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I arrived at the house and she was dead. I’m in a police station.’ There was complete silence at the other end of the line. ‘Are you still there?’

‘What?’ said Campbell.

‘I’ll call you later,’ I said. I broke off the call, switched off the phone and started to cry. This won’t do, I thought, but I hadn’t completely pulled myself together when the door opened and a man in a suit came in.

He was middle-aged with untidy greying hair that was thinning at the front. He was carrying two files under his arm. He stopped suddenly and looked at me. ‘What the hell are you wearing?’ he said.

‘I’m a bike messenger,’ I said.

‘Are you the one who found the body?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ he said, and walked out of the room. I heard indistinct shouting outside, which got more distant. I felt furious with myself that he’d seen me crying. That wasn’t me. The man came back in, accompanied by two officers. One, a WPC, was carrying a bundle of clothes in her arms. The other had a tray with tea on it.

‘Put this on,’ said the detective.

‘I’m not cold,’ I said.

‘That’s an order,’ he said. ‘You may well be in shock. And when I find the police officer who left you like that, I’m going to give him such a kick up the arse.’

The clothes were ridiculous. There was a torn navy blue sweatshirt, a woolly jumper and a pair of jeans that were about five sizes too big. The WPC bent down and rolled up the legs.

‘I don’t think these do much for me,’ I said.

The man handed me a mug of tea. I sipped it and grimaced. ‘I don’t take sugar,’ I said.

‘You do this time,’ he said. ‘We’re going to stand here and watch you drink it.’

I felt the tea sinking into my empty stomach. ‘Is there anything to eat?’ I said.

The detective looked at the WPC. ‘You heard her.’

The WPC looked startled. ‘Can I get you a sandwich, love?’

‘Anything.’

‘At the double,’ said the detective.

The two officers scuttled out of the room. The detective gestured at me to sit down. He placed the two files on the table one beside the other. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Paul Kamsky,’ he said. ‘How are you doing?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ I said.

‘This isn’t really by the book. I know you haven’t given a statement yet, but as soon as I heard, I had to come and talk to you myself.’ He gave a baffled smile. ‘I had to ask, what the hell is going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

He picked up a file – green cardboard – and opened it.

‘On Thursday, the tenth of May, you were the last person to see one Margaret Farrell alive.’

‘Me and a couple of my friends, yes.’

He put the file down and picked up the other one – brown cardboard, this time. ‘And now, a little over three weeks later, you are the person who finds the body of Ingrid de Soto. I wondered if you had any comment to make.’

‘For what it’s worth, I’m a bit shaken by it.’

‘So am I, Miss Bell. Anything else?’

‘Like what?’

He paused for a moment.’ ‘Miss Bell, I’m not sure if you’re entirely recognizing the oddity of the situation.’

‘I am fucking recognizing it. It’s a horrible, horrible coincidence and it’s not nice being the victim.’

‘You’re the witness, not the victim.’

‘That’s what I was trying to say.’

‘I could put it this way. I’ve been a copper for twenty-eight years and the only time I’ve ever found someone on two murder scenes within a month is because they were the murderer.’

‘You’re not saying…?’

‘No, no, of course not. But I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to be here for a while. These statements take a ridiculously long time. But I’m just here to ask a couple of very simple questions.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like, can you think of any connection between these two women?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said. ‘There’s no connection at all.’

‘Well, there’s one,’ he said.

‘What’s that?’

‘You.’

‘That’s mad.’

‘Please, Miss Bell. Help me. Tell me about your relation to these women.’

‘Honestly, there is no relation. Margaret Farrell lived in the same street I do, a few doors along. But this is London. I knew her face but I’d never really met her until I ran into her car.’

‘You ran into her car?’

‘Well, pedalled. It probably says that in the file.’ For the millionth time, I gave an account of what had happened. ‘But that was it. I didn’t know her. And I was in a shocked state, so I can’t even remember saying anything coherent to her.’

‘What about Ingrid de Soto?’

I started to shiver violently.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my teeth chattering. ‘I’m not thinking in the clearest way.’

Kamsky leaned forward with a concerned expression on his face. ‘Do you need a doctor?’ he said.

‘Seeing her body,’ I said. ‘I’ve never seen a dead body before.’

‘And not arranged like that,’ he said. ‘Some of my young constables were pretty shaken as well. Do you want to stop for a bit?’

‘No, I’m all right. What was it you wanted to know?’

‘Ingrid de Soto. Tell me about her.’

‘I didn’t even remember her full name. Maybe I saw it on a package.’

‘Why did you go to the house?’

‘I wasn’t planning it. My boss rang me. He could have rung anybody.’

‘How many others?’

‘Five or six.’

‘Had you been to the house before?’

‘A few times.’

‘Can you think why anyone would want to kill this woman?’

‘Which woman?’

‘Mrs de Soto. Do you know anything about her?’

‘No. I’m not her doctor, not her neighbour, not her friend. I deliver packages and take them away. Usually I don’t even know their names.’

‘Anything?’

‘She’s rich. She
was
rich.’

‘That’s something,’ he said.

‘She’s rich, so someone may have killed her for her money. As part of a robbery.’

‘My colleagues are still checking the scene. They haven’t managed to contact her husband…’

‘Her husband,’ I said. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. They both had husbands.’

‘There we are. There’s something else. But what I was saying is that, so far as we know, nothing was stolen. This was a murder done for other reasons.’

‘Like what?’

‘That’s something we’ll be considering.’

There was a long silence. Kamsky put his elbows on the table and rested his head on his hands.

‘I don’t understand this,’ he said, ‘and that irritates me. I’ve got a horrible feeling that this might be a coincidence.’

‘I agree…’

‘But that’s not going to stop me.’ He looked up suddenly. ‘Where’s the package?’ he asked.

‘Sorry?’

‘The package you were supposed to be collecting.’

‘I don’t know. It wasn’t on my list of priorities after I’d broken in.’

‘The house was secure and the alarm on when you broke in?’

‘Yes,’ I began. ‘It went off when I broke the window…’

But he was really talking to himself, not me. He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘Right. After you’ve signed your statement I’ll have someone drive you home, Ms Bell. I must ask you not to tell anyone the details of what you saw. Do you understand? Nothing about the method of killing and nothing about the marks on her face.’ I nodded. ‘Two officers are going to interview you and I’m afraid you’re going to give a statement and you’re going to say everything that comes into your mind, if it takes all day and all night.’

Chapter Ten

A police constable dropped me back at the house and left me on the front steps, fumbling the key into the lock with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking, and dropping it twice before I managed to push open the door. It was only after the car had turned and driven away that it occurred to me my bike was still at the station, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I felt oddly sluggish, and very cold in spite of the borrowed clothes I was bundled up in. I was intending to creep in quietly and sneak up to my own room, where I could lie down and pull the duvet over my head, but as I pushed the door shut I heard excitable voices downstairs, and then Pippa shouted: ‘Astrid? Is that you? Come here, will you? We need you.’

So I made my way downstairs, where I found the entire household gathered, plus Leah. Everyone was sitting round the table, speaking loudly and at once, and I could only pick out fragments, many of which were expletives. I sank into the armchair, away from the group, and sighed.

‘Astrid can say what she thinks about it,’ said Davy. ‘She’s pretty reasonable.’

‘You think so?’ said Owen. He looked at me as if he were sizing me up.

‘Reasonable?’ Leah snorted. ‘I hardly agree.’

‘What about all the work she’s done in the garden?’ said Dario. ‘Surely that counts for something?’

‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

‘What are you wearing?’ asked Pippa. ‘Is this the latest bike-messenger uniform?’

‘No –’ I began.

‘Can we stick to the point?’ said Miles.

‘We need some kind of mediator,’ said Davy. ‘It’s hard for us to be objective. We don’t want to end up enemies.’

‘Too late,’ said Dario.

‘I’m a solicitor,’ said Pippa. ‘I can be objective.’

Leah snorted again, louder this time.

‘Shut her up,’ Mick said, in a low, controlled voice. A vein was pulsing in his temple.

‘Leah,’ said Miles. ‘Please. You’re not helping.’

I was surprised he didn’t shrivel up under the force of her glare.

‘I’m simply saying all the things you think but are too cowardly to say yourself. You want me to do your dirty work for you. Then they can blame it all on Leah, the Wicked Witch of the North.’

‘Of the West, actually,’ said Dario.

‘Please, what’s going on?’ I said again.

‘Bad stuff,’ said Dario.

‘Can I explain?’ Pippa leaned towards me. ‘I was the one who called this meeting. I thought it would be a good idea to discuss the terms of our eviction.’

‘I’m not evicting you,’ said Miles. I could tell from the way he said it that he had said this many times already.

‘We have rights,’ said Dario. ‘Don’t we, Pip?’

‘Miles has already been generous,’ said Leah.

‘Generous how?’ asked Owen. ‘Generous in telling us to go? Generous in giving us a paltry few weeks to find somewhere else to live?’

‘I’m a sitting tenant,’ said Dario. ‘Correct, Pip?’

‘Well…’ began Pippa.

‘Can I say something?’ Miles interjected.

I almost felt sorry for him.

‘Not if you’re going to give way even more,’ said Leah. ‘This has gone far enough.’

Davy got up from his chair and came and squatted down at my feet. ‘Are you all right, Astrid?’ he mumbled. ‘You seem a bit out of it.’

I smiled gratefully at him and opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. I couldn’t bear to talk about it. Not yet. I didn’t want this rabble turning their attention on me and showering me with their questions.

‘… in the light of rising house prices and tenants’ rights…’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ I mouthed.

‘… we need to reach an agreement on how much money is fair and reasonable,’ Pippa was saying. She sounded suddenly like a different person. Someone bureaucratic and pedantic.

‘You want him to pay you off,’ said Leah. ‘I might have known it would come down to money in the end.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ said Pippa. ‘How vulgar to mention it.’

‘I want to be fair,’ said Miles. He half turned and flung me a look of such desperate appeal that on another day I might have come to his rescue. Instead, I sat limply in the armchair and thought of Ingrid de Soto’s mutilated face and felt nausea rise in me.

‘We have to work out a ratio,’ said Pippa, ‘depending on how long we’ve each been here.’

‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’ said Leah. ‘You’ve been here the longest.’

‘What about all the work I’ve done on the house?’ put in Dario.

Beside me, Davy made a huffing sound and said something about damp courses.

‘What about the fact that you’ve paid no rent since you moved in?’ snapped Leah. ‘And it all needs redoing anyway.’

‘Are you sure you want to be alone with this lady, Miles?’ asked Dario.

‘I’ve not been here very long,’ said Davy.

‘You and me both, mate,’ said Owen.

‘No one’s going to lose out,’ said Miles. ‘How about fifteen thousand?’

‘Are you mad?’ exclaimed Leah. ‘Listen, Miles, you don’t have to give them anything at all. They haven’t got a leg to stand on and they know it. Don’t be intimidated.’

‘They’re my friends,’ said Miles. ‘Don’t interfere. Or don’t you want me to have friends? Is that it?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Fifteen thousand each?’ said Pippa.

‘Pippa, you know I can’t afford anything like –’

‘Because a fifteen-thousand-pound lump sum, to be shared out between us, is insulting. We’ve lived here for years. We’ve helped you pay your mortgage. Now we have to find somewhere else to live. We have to put down deposits and buy furniture and begin again. Meanwhile, the value of your house has gone up tenfold.’

‘Twenty, then. In instalments.’

‘We all chipped in for the boiler,’ said Dario. ‘That cost loads.’

‘Yeah,’ said Pippa. ‘Even though some of us, not to mention names, Mick and Dario, get more benefit from it than others.’

‘If you don’t like my painting,’ said Dario, sulkily, ‘what about Astrid’s garden? She’s spent days, weeks, on that.’

‘Nobody asked her to do it,’ said Leah. ‘We’re having it dug up.’

At last I spoke. ‘What a cunt you are,’ I said.

Leah turned and stared at me. Her beautiful eyes were hard. ‘The cunt who got your man, though.’

‘Whoa,’ said Davy. He looked startled.

‘Have you never heard the word before?’ Leah asked brightly. ‘Up north, did they never…?’

‘Cunt,’ said Mick loudly. Everyone stared at him. Who was he talking to? Then Pippa gave a tiny giggle, and smacked a hand over her mouth.

‘Stop now,’ pleaded Miles. ‘This isn’t how to do anything.’

‘Why? I’m just starting to enjoy myself,’ said Leah.

‘I don’t care about the money,’ I said. ‘You can have mine, if you want. This is just really, really horrible.’

Silence fell on the room. For a moment, the expression on each face was frozen. Then the anger and self-righteousness turned into shame. Miles put his head in his hands for a moment, then lifted it again, meeting my eyes. ‘I wish this wasn’t happening,’ he said. ‘I wish I could turn back the clock.’

‘You can,’ said Dario, eagerly. ‘You can, mate. Just say the word.’

‘Let’s go to the pub,’ said Davy. ‘Get out of here. Talk about it later. Not rush into anything. Yes? What do you say?’

‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ said Leah, but nobody took any notice of her.

‘Good idea,’ said Dario. ‘The most sensible thing I’ve heard for hours. The first round’s on me, except I don’t have any money on me, now I come to think of it. Don’t know where it’s gone. Come on, Miles, don’t look so wretched. Nobody’s died.’

‘I don’t want to dig up your garden, Astrid,’ Miles said to me.

‘I can always make another.’

‘I tell you what, Pippa.’ Miles turned to her. ‘I should get the house valued, then come up with a proposal. Maybe I’ll get outside advice, just so we can try to keep everything as neutral as possible. I want to be fair. I hope you know I’m not out to rip you lot off.’

‘But are they out to rip you off?’ muttered Leah. ‘That’s what you’re not considering.’

Miles ignored her. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t always have the whole household in on the discussions. It gets so heated. If you and I discuss things first, Pippa, then put it to the group… What d’you say?’

‘OK,’ said Pippa. ‘Why are you wearing those clothes, anyway, Astrid? Where did you get them from? A skip?’

‘I got them from the police,’ I said reluctantly.

It was a very strange sensation. It was as if I was suddenly a magnet drawing each element in the room towards me. Everyone turned to me, waiting for me to continue.

‘There was an accident,’ I said, then paused to consider the word. ‘Not an accident,’ I corrected myself. ‘There was a death. Someone died. I saw her. She was… she was dead in front of me.’

‘Again?’ breathed Davy.

‘What do you mean, not an accident?’

‘She was murdered,’ I said. ‘I saw her through the letterbox and I smashed the window and climbed in and she was lying on the floor. I touched her.’ I gave a little shudder. ‘I touched her and then I turned her over and her face was all…’

‘It’s all right,’ said Davy. ‘It’s all right. You don’t need to say.’

‘Cut up,’ I finished. ‘I’ve never seen a dead body close up before.’

‘But –’ began Miles.

‘Oh, fuck,’ breathed Dario.

‘You poor, poor thing,’ said Pippa.

‘I don’t want to talk about it any more,’ I said. ‘I just want to go to sleep.’

‘It’s still daytime,’ said Dario. ‘And we’re going to the pub.’

Davy cast him a ferocious look.

‘Who was she?’ asked Owen. The expression on his face was one of curiosity. ‘Did you know her?’

‘What?’ I shook my head. ‘No, I didn’t know her. I’d seen her before. She was just a client.’

‘Wow,’ said Dario. ‘Blimey. First Peggy and now this woman. What is it with you?’

‘Shut up, Dario,’ Pippa said. ‘Have a bit of tact.’

‘It doesn’t matter. He’s only repeating what the police have been saying half the day.’

‘It must have been terrifying,’ said Davy.

‘Yes.’

A brief silence fell. I could see that everyone was struggling to find the right questions without seeming too ghoulish.

‘You lot go to the pub,’ I said. ‘I’m not really in the mood.’

‘I’ll stay with you,’ said Pippa.

‘No. You go. I’d quite like to be alone for a bit.’