Dying to Know (A Detective Inspector Berenice Killick Mystery) (15 page)

She
peered over the cracked bricks. ‘What’s it for, then, this tower?’

He
shrugged. ‘No one knows. It’s old,’ he said.

‘I
can see that.’

‘Not
safe,’ he added.

He
came and stood next to her. He looked younger close-up, with his shorn afro hair, his wide, trainer-clad feet.

‘What
you looking at?’ He turned to her.

‘Nothing.’
She gazed out to sea again.

‘I
can wear trainers if I want,’ he said.

‘Of
course you can,’ she said.

‘You
mean, a black man joining the Job, got to be more careful than a white man?’

She
met his eyes. ‘I’d say so, yes.’

‘So
what made you sign up?’

‘It’s
the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do,’ she said.

‘No
regrets?’ He smiled at her.

‘Not
so far,’ she replied. ‘Shall we get to work?’

‘Sure
thing, Ma’am. Though the lads have taken most of it to HQ.’

‘I
know.’ She pulled out her file, leafed through the papers. ‘So, this gap in the fence…?’

He
crossed to the other side of the tower. ‘Here…’ He pointed. She saw a curve of chicken wire, roughly pulled apart. ‘We think the deceased must have climbed up the stairs, and then come through this gap to stand where you’re standing now.’

She
nodded, reading the file. ‘The fibres…’

‘Here.’
He pointed at the wall. ‘And here. And the blood spots here…’

On
the flagstones, brown dots, a tiny trail leading to the brick wall. ‘Of course, nothing to say it’s his,’ Dexter was saying.

‘Well,
we’ll know when we get the lab results,’ she said. The horizon was tinged pink with the thickening cloud. Further up the beach she could see Murdo’s car, where he’d left it. ‘We need to get that towed,’ she said.

‘Sure,’
he said.

‘Anything
else?’

‘Just
one thing,’ he said. ‘I found it earlier on, on the staircase.’ He fished in his pocket, and held something out to her.

It
looked like a toy, a small plastic lion, painted green.

‘I
bagged it just in case,’ he said. ‘Might be nothing.’

She
took the plastic bag, stared at the lion. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

Liam circulated, greeting people. There was a flight of steps down into the reception area, polished wood with spindly black railings. He glanced up.

She
was there, under the beam of a spotlight. He saw her hair, blonde, pinned up. He saw her black dress, shiny black shoes. More than that, it was the way she glided down the steps, her head bent shyly downwards. She turned to her husband, said a few words to him, and then they were there, beside him.

‘Liam.’
She smiled up at him.

Chad
was scanning the room, distracted.

Liam
turned to her. ‘A drink?’ he said.

He
shepherded them both over to the drinks table. ‘Red or white, I’m afraid. Or orange juice. This place isn’t known for its niceties. The white’s slightly more drinkable, I reckon. French, at least.’

‘White,
then,’ she said.

He
handed her a glass. She met his eyes, looked away.

Chad
was gazing at the wall. There was a canvas, rough painted blocks of orange and red. He turned back to Liam. ‘Oh. Er, yes. White. Thanks.’ He took the glass Liam handed to him, waved his spare hand towards the wall. ‘Art, is it?’

Liam
smiled. ‘Art,’ he agreed.

A
booming voice came from behind them. ‘Phelps – there you are. Keeping the most charming guest to yourself, as usual…’

Liam
seemed to flinch. He turned. ‘Professor – ’

‘Alan
Moffatt. Director.’ He held out his hand towards Helen. He was square-jawed, bespectacled, with thick grey hair. His jacket seemed too big for him, despite his large frame.

‘This
is the Reverend Chad Meyrick,’ Liam said, ‘and his wife, Helen.’

Alan
took Helen’s hand. His eyes behind the wire frames were pale, almost blank. ‘Mrs. Meyrick.’ His smile showed teeth that were somehow too white. ‘And a Reverend,’ he said. He relinquished his grip on her hand, and turned to her husband. ‘Not often we get a man of the cloth in here,’ he said. ‘They tend to steer well clear of what we’re up to here.’

Chad
let go of his hand. ‘Oh? And why is that?’

Alan
threw him an affable smile. ‘Similar territory, isn’t it? Big Bang, beginnings of the Universe. Only we’re coming up with a different explanation from yours, don’t you know.’ He gave a gruff laugh.

‘I’m
not sure ours is an explanation at all,’ Chad said. ‘I wouldn’t say we’re in any kind of competition for that.’

‘But
the Biblical account – ’ Alan began.

‘The
Biblical account is an entirely different discourse,’ Chad said.

‘Soon
to be overridden altogether, old chap. Now it looks like we’ve pinned down the Higgs mechanism, and I have to say, the data is looking very promising, then we’ll have the whole story…’

They
began to move away. Alan was animated, smiling. Chad quieter, but waving his wine glass as he spoke.

Helen
rubbed her hand where Alan had gripped it. She looked up at Liam. ‘How’s Jonas?’ she said.

His
gaze passed from the Professor back to her, and he smiled. ‘Chasing rabbits, unfortunately.’

‘It’s
just normal,’ she said.

‘Not
when the rabbit is called Daisy and belongs to the little girl next door. Then it’s criminal behaviour.’

She
smiled up at him.

‘I’m
sorry about just then,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘You
became Mrs. Meyrick.’

‘Oh,’
she said. ‘That’s OK.’

‘Do
you have a surname?’

‘I
used to,’ she said.

‘Used
to?’

‘When
I was a dancer,’ she said.

‘But
you still dance,’ he said.

She
remembered his visit yesterday. ‘I teach,’ she said.

‘Does
teaching not need a surname?’ he said.

She
met his eyes. She felt too warm, and wondered if it showed.

‘I’m
sorry I borrowed your husband,’ he said. ‘Earlier on. Virginia was insistent…’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s awful there. Did Chad tell you?’

‘No,’
she said. ‘Not much.’

‘We’re
very worried about Tobias.’

‘Yes,’
she said. ‘One of my students came to see me. He’s a friend of his, apparently. They hang out together.’

He
glanced down at her. ‘Your glass is empty,’ he said. He crossed to the table, reappeared with a bottle, refilled both their glasses. ‘How does a ballet student know Tobias?’

‘He’s
not your usual ballet student. I do a class at the Ridge Centre.’

‘Ah.’

‘He’s called Finn. Finn Brady.’

‘My
sister might know him. She knows the Ridge.’

‘Your
sister?’

‘You’ll
find this is a very small world after London,’ he said. ‘My sister Sinead works in social services.’

‘Oh.
I wonder if she knows Lisa Voake.’

‘Voake?’

‘She
comes to class too. Finn made me promise to help her. She’s stuck between warring parents by the sound of it.’

‘Well
I can ask Sinead…’

‘When
I mentioned Social Services he laughed.’

Liam
nodded. ‘I can imagine.’

‘According
to the Ridge people, Finn lives at a residential centre. His real name is Felix but he never uses it. Although it is plastered in spray paint under the railway arches – at least, I assume that’s him.’

He
smiled down at her.

‘He’s
hard work,’ she said.

‘I
can imagine.’

‘But
a very talented dancer,’ she added.

He
said something that she didn’t quite hear, as the Professor’s booming voice approached again. ‘There’s superstition…’ he was saying. ‘And then there’s reason.’

‘That’s
not a divide I accept.’ Chad was flushed, his voice raised, as they came to stand near the drinks table again. ‘If one wants to address the big questions-’

‘
– then it’s important to look at the evidence,’ Alan interrupted. ‘The way I see it, we can be rational, we can ask questions and then attempt to answer them based on experimentation and investigation and research – OR, we can tell ourselves fairy stories and wish that they were true. I know which I prefer.’

‘Newton
was religious,’ Chad said. ‘All his investigations were in the name of God. Are you going to tell me he was just dealing in fairy stories?’

‘Poor
old Newton lived in his time,’ Alan said. ‘And, thank goodness, I live in mine. And by the way, Phelps – ’ he turned to Liam, as if Chad was now dismissed, ‘talking of superstition, we need to do something about the Maguire boy.’

‘Tobias?’
Liam seemed to flinch again as he faced the professor.

‘Downright
hostile to me this morning. Sackable behaviour, I’d say.’

‘You
have to take into account, Professor, that he’s had terrible news. We all have…’

Alan
seemed pulled up short. ‘Yes,’ he said, quieter now. ‘We all have.’ He looked towards Helen, and gave a small bow. ‘Madam, forgive me.’ He turned back to Liam. ‘Whatever the cause of his behaviour, that boy should not be here. Calling me all sorts of names, he was. Very disturbing. We can’t take the risk. I don’t mind for me, but some of the more retiring members of staff find it very disconcerting.’

‘What
do you want me to do?’

‘I
want you to tell him he’s out. You know him better than I do, it’ll be better coming from you.’

‘He
likes it here – ’ Liam began. ‘I thought we could give him something to do in the library – ’

‘We’re
not here to provide day care for the mentally disturbed, Phelps.’ His eyes wandered towards the crowd in the room, then focused back on Liam. ‘I’m relying on you to get rid of him, is that clear?’ He turned to Helen and took her hand again. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mrs…’ He turned to Chad, but Chad was standing some way off, talking to someone else, an awkward young man whose clothes seemed too short for his height.

‘A
parishioner,’ Helen said. ‘I recognize him.’

‘Hmm.’
Alan nodded at Liam, then ambled away.

Liam’s
eyes followed him. ‘I can’t bear the man,’ he said, his voice quiet. ‘And neither could Murdo. He’s not really a scientist. He’s good with funding, that’s all. These weird results are lost on him – Good Heavens, I didn’t think she’d turn up.’ He was watching the stairs.

Helen
turned to see. There was a woman standing there. She was scanning the room, pinch-faced and nervous. She wore a beige raincoat and heeled boots, her light hair tied roughly back, and as she approached, Helen could see how pale she was, her skin scrubbed clean. The boots were in worn brown leather, expensive, Helen thought, but old.

‘I
wasn’t going to come.’ Her words, in a soft American accent, were addressed to Liam.

‘I
was surprised to see you,’ he said.

‘But
then I thought, why should he win? I thought, it’s better to face him out, pretend nothing’s wrong.’ Her grey-green eyes were fixed on Liam’s.

‘He’s
watching you now,’ Liam said.

‘I’ll
bet he is.’

Helen
glanced towards Alan. Sure enough, he was staring towards them. Aware of her gaze, he looked away.

‘Sorry
– ’ Liam was speaking to her now. ‘I didn’t introduce you. This is Elizabeth Merletti, one of our physicists.’

‘Pleased
to meet you.’ Elizabeth held out a shy hand towards her, and Helen took it.

‘Helen…
um…’ Liam began, then smiled at her. ‘She doesn’t have a surname.’