Faithfully: Chase & Halshaw #1 (11 page)

“I’ve already told Priyanka the kinds of things you asked
me,” Hargreaves interjected.

“Thank you, Mr Hargreaves,” replied Chase, evenly. Only
Halshaw noticed the flash of irritation in his eyes as he did so.

Chase leaned forward to face Priyanka, so that Justin
Hargreaves was out of his line of sight. “First of all, Ms Shah, I want to ask
you about Amy Birkdale.”

“OK.” Priyanka Shah’s voice was surprisingly husky.

“How well do you know her?”

“Not very well. We worked together a bit on this project, of
course, but Justin and Joe did most of the interviews. My role was more about
collating the information they’d gathered.”

“How long have you worked for Sandersons?”

“Almost a year, Inspector. I’m still a junior, though not
for much longer, I hope.”

“What do you make of this project?”

She glanced nervously at Justin Hargreaves, who inclined his
head fractionally. “It makes sense,” she answered carefully. “It will save
Logistical Group some money, and it shouldn’t be too disruptive to implement.”

“But what...?” prompted Chase, gently.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem to have some reservations.”

She glanced at Justin again. “I-I don’t know...” she
stammered.

“It’s the curse of the consultant,” Justin interjected
smoothly. “It’s often obvious what the client should do, from a rational,
dispassionate perspective. But we can’t force the client to take our advice,
obviously.”

“Have you ever been tempted?” Halshaw asked.

“Tempted? To do what?”

“To force the client to take your advice.”

“Many times,” smiled Justin. “I’ve often felt like giving
the client a good shake. Or even a kick up the arse, on occasion.” His smile vanished.
“But if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, officer, the answer is
no.”

“So you’ve never felt tempted to assault Bryn Lewis or Amy
Birkdale, have you?” asked Chase.

“Of course not!”

“Because they’re slavishly following your advice, eh?”

Justin sighed. “It’s not that, Inspector. They may well
choose not to take our advice in the end, or not wholly. But they’re both
intelligent, likeable people who will do the best for their business as they
see it. I respect that.”

Chase nodded. “And where were you last Monday evening, Ms
Shah?” he asked.

“Last Monday? I went out to dinner.”

“Who with?”

“A bunch of guys from the City branch.”

“Where did you go?”

“A restaurant in Docklands, somewhere.”

“Which one?”

“I can’t remember, I’m afraid. I can look it up if you’re
interested.”

Chase shook his head impatiently. “Anyone able to confirm
that?”

“Joe Li. He was there too.”

“And last Wednesday?”

“At home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Richmond. I’ve just bought my first flat.”

“Were you by yourself on Wednesday evening?”

She looked down shyly for a moment. When she looked up again
Chase and Halshaw both noticed the distant look in her eyes. “No. I was with my
boyfriend,” she replied, in little more than a whisper.

“All night?”

She nodded.

“OK,” smiled Chase. “Last question, Ms Shah. Have you ever
been to Amy Birkdale’s home?”

“No. I don’t even know where she lives, though I guess it
must be pretty local.”

“Why?

She shrugged. “Oh, from some of the things she’s said. You
know.”

Chase sat back in his chair and smiled. “That’s all, Ms
Shah. Thank you very much for your time.”

She stood and shot him a dazzling smile. “No problem,
Inspector. I hope you catch them.”

Justin Hargreaves stood too. “Goodbye, Inspector,” he said.

Chase nodded curtly. “Mr Hargreaves,” he grunted.

Halshaw gave both of them what she hoped was a friendly
smile and said nothing.

Once the door had closed, Chase turned to Halshaw. “Well
done,” he smiled.

“What for?” she asked, taken aback.

“Getting through Justin Hargreaves’ armour. More than I’ve
been able to do.”

“But didn’t you say you’d got him to confess about his
boyfriend and fiddling his expenses?”

“Oh that!” Chase waved his hands dismissively. “He wanted to
tell me that. No, our Mr Hargreaves isn’t telling us everything, I’m quite
sure.”

“You don’t think he broke into Amy’s flat, do you? Or killed
Lucy Faith?”

“No, I don’t. But we’re missing something here, and Justin
might just be able to help us.”

Halshaw nodded thoughtfully. As she did so, Priyanka Shah
passed the glass door of the meeting room and made a point of catching
Halshaw’s eye.

“I’ll tell you something, though,” Chase continued,
oblivious. “Did you notice what she said about...?”
Green Onions
burst
into his flow. “Chase!” he snapped into the phone. He listened, his face
softening. “Oh hello, Andrea! What have you got for me?”

Halshaw jumped to her feet and seized her handbag. “Back in
a mo,” she said. “I’ll just pop to the Ladies.”

When Priyanka Shah emerged from the cubicle, Halshaw was
standing in front of the mirror, brushing her thick dark hair. She caught sight
of Priyanka and smiled. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”
she asked.

“Yeah,” Priyanka replied. “It may be nothing, but...”

Halshaw waited patiently while the other young woman checked
that all the cubicles were unoccupied, and then began to wash her hands at a
sink.

“The thing is this,” she continued, eventually. “I noticed
something in the big meeting on Tuesday morning. Justin told me not to mention
it to you, so I didn’t, but afterwards I thought, like, this isn’t right.”

“Go on.”

“Like I said, I’m a junior. They teach us all kinds of
things at Sandersons. One module is all about basic psychology, body language,
that kind of thing. So while Justin was presenting, I watched the other people
in the room. And I noticed some things you ought to know about.”

Halshaw felt a tingle of anticipation. “What did you see,
Priyanka?” she asked.

Priyanka began to dry her hands in the Dyson
AirBlade
drier. “OK. For one thing, Amy Birkdale was really
stressed. She looked angry.”

“Because of the break-in?”

“Partly, I guess. But I didn’t notice it until about halfway
through Justin’s presentation, when she got a text.”

“From someone in the room, you mean?”

“I don’t know. It could have been, I suppose. Just about
everyone had their phone out at some time or other.” She smiled. “I saw Frank
Usher reading the BBC Football Gossip on his iPad at one point, too.”

“Was there much conversation between the people around the
table?”

“Not really. Frank and Paul were laughing and joking most of
the way through, but that’s all.”

“What about?”

“Don’t know. Sorry.”

“Is that normal?”

“Oh yeah. They never stop, those two.”

“How did Paul McKinley seem?”

“Pale. A bit quiet. As though he had a touch of something,
you know?”

“Hung over?”

“Maybe.”

Halshaw nodded encouragingly. “What else did you see,
Priyanka?”

She looked down. “It was Les Salter,” she said, uncertainly.

“What about him?”

“He was staring at Amy the whole time.”

“Even during Justin’s presentation?”

“Yeah. He never took his eyes off her.”

“How was he staring?”

“How do you mean?”

“Was he angry, for instance?”

“No. It was like he was staring at a god in a temple.
Worshipping, like. You know?”

*

“OK, so Les Salter fancies Amy,” said Chase. “So what? She’s
a very attractive young woman. Just like you, Halshaw. I bet you don’t even
notice when men stare at you.”

She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I’m not sure how to take
that, Sir.”

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Halshaw. You know perfectly well
what I mean. Perhaps Salter shouldn’t have been staring at her quite so much,
but these things happen. It doesn’t necessarily signify anything at all.”

She frowned. “But it doesn’t tally with what Lorna Hilton
told us. I could imagine him glaring at her throughout the meeting, but not
this...”

“Do you believe her?”

“Who? Lorna Hilton? Or Priyanka?”

“Ms Shah, of course.”

“Yes, I do.”

“So do I, as it happens. I think you might have been right
about Lorna Hilton and misdirection.”

Halshaw nodded thoughtfully and said nothing.

“By the way,” Chase continued. “Did Ms Shah say anything
about Amy? Was she looking at Salter in the same way?”

“I asked her that. She said Amy never looked at him. Not
once.”

The door opened and Bryn Lewis leaned in. “Di said you
wanted a word?”

“That’s right,” replied Chase. He leant across to Halshaw.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “The pathologist called while you were in the Ladies.”

Halshaw nodded understandingly.

Chase turned to Lewis. “We’ve just had a call from the
pathologist,” he said. “She’s just completed the autopsy on Lucy Faith, and I
need to ask you about something she found.”

“All right,” said Lewis. “Go on.”

“I think you’d better sit down, sir.”

Lewis did as he was bid. Halshaw caught Chase’s eye, then
shut the door and stood next to it.

Chase cleared his throat. “When you met Ms Faith, the
afternoon before she died, did the two of you have sex?”

“No, Inspector, we did not.” Lewis held eye contact
resolutely.

“I see, Mr Lewis,” replied Chase, thoughtfully. “In which
case I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you for a DNA sample.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

The colour began to drain from Lewis’ face.

“Would you like me to ask the question again, sir?” Chase
asked, quietly.

Lewis nodded.

“Did you have sex with Lucy Faith the afternoon before she
died?”

“Yes. She blew my brains out.”

Halshaw struggled not to snigger.

“You had oral sex, you mean?” asked Chase, deadpan.

 “Yes, Inspector. At the end of our time together, My
Lady would blow my brains out. God, it was unbelievable! She was so good at it,
and on top of everything else... I’ve never known anything like it.”

“Did she do that at every session?”

“Only if I was fully compliant.”

“Compliant?”

“Yes, Inspector. I had to follow My Lady’s instructions to
the letter, and contain myself during the session itself.”

“Did she ever not, er, blow your brains out?”

“Once or twice, yes.”

“And how did you feel? Angry? Hurt?”

“Miserable, remorseful. Most of all, determined.”

“Determined?”

“Yes,” said Lewis, emphatically. “Determined not to let My Lady
down again the next time.”

“And did you ever reciprocate?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Did you ever perform any kind of sexual act on her?”

“No, Inspector. I can assure you of that. That wasn’t how it
worked.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

Chase sighed. “Thank you, Mr Lewis. That was all I wanted to
ask you.”

Lewis didn’t wait to be asked twice. At the door he turned.
“What about the DNA test?” he asked.

“That won’t be necessary, sir. Not for the moment, anyway.”

Lewis nodded curtly. “Thank you, Inspector,” he said.

“What did the pathologist say?” blurted Halshaw, as soon as
the door had closed behind him.

“She found traces of sperm in Ms Faith’s vagina and
stomach,” replied Chase, evenly.

“So it was sexual, was it?”

“What was?”

“Her murder?”

He shook his head. “There’s no evidence of sexual violence,
Halshaw. No bruising or anything. Nothing under her fingernails, either, so she
probably didn’t put up any kind of resistance.”

“So...?”

“Andrea – that’s the pathologist – ordered DNA tests on both
sperm samples. She’s just received the results.”

“And?”

“They were from two different people, although the lab
couldn’t match either of them. One was Bryn Lewis, presumably...”

“So who was the other one?”

“That’s what I’d like to know, Halshaw.
Shhh
!
Here comes Dave Kelmarsh.”

*

Dave Kelmarsh entered the room like a prisoner going to his
execution, and perched uncomfortably on the edge of a chair.

“Good morning, Mr Kelmarsh,” said Chase, pleasantly. “How
are you today?”

Kelmarsh stared down at his shoes and shrugged.

“Have you met my assistant, Detective Constable Halshaw?”

Kelmarsh looked up at Halshaw with dull eyes. She smiled
sympathetically at him, but he did not respond.

“How are Emily and Josh today?”

“How do you bloody think?” retorted Kelmarsh

Chase did not react. “What brings you to the office today?”
he asked.

“Picking up a few bits and pieces. Clearing my calendar for
next week. Had to see Bryn, of course.”

“Is he being supportive?”

“Very.”

“You sound surprised.”

A faint smile flickered around Dave
Kelmarsh’s
lips for a moment. “I suppose I am,” he replied. “Bryn’s not exactly known for
his people skills. But he’s been great, ever since I phoned him on Thursday
morning. It’s like he’s lost someone too.”

“I see,” said Chase, blandly. “Have you remembered anything
else about Wednesday?”

Kelmarsh shook his head. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s quite all right. On a completely different subject,
how long have you worked for Logistical Group?”

“About six years, Inspector.”

“Always for Logistical?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t start off at one of the subsidiaries, like Amy?”

“No.”

“So you used to work at Stockley Park, did you?”

“That’s right,” Kelmarsh replied. Then he frowned. “Hang on
a minute,” he continued. “I’ve just remembered something. About Wednesday
evening.”

Chase and Halshaw both leant forward intently. “Go on,” he
said.

“It may be nothing, but... OK. Some man phoned up, wanting
to speak to Lucy.”

“Who was it?”

“Dunno. He wouldn’t leave a name.”

“What was it about?”

“Not sure. Something about a painting, I think. When I told
him Lucy was out he hung up.”

“What time did he call?”

“About eight o’clock. I’d just finished reading Emily a
bedtime story.”

“What was his voice like?”

“Pardon?”

“Did he have an accent? Did he sound old or young?”

Dave Kelmarsh frowned. “I don’t remember him having an
accent. He seemed quite well spoken. But he could have been putting it on, of
course.”

“Of course. I don’t suppose you made a note of the number,
did you?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Not to worry.” Chase sighed. “I hate to have to ask you
this, Mr Kelmarsh, but when did you last make love with your wife?”

Kelmarsh looked back at him in surprise. “Wednesday morning,
Inspector. We both woke up early, and the kids were still asleep for once, so
we, er...”

“Did you wear a condom?”

“No. Why?”

“How many times?”

“Just once, Inspector. That’s all we had time for. We’d only
just finished when Emily came into our bedroom.”

Chase smiled sympathetically. “Thank you, Mr Kelmarsh. I
appreciate your frankness. It can’t be easy, I’m sure.”

Kelmarsh shrugged. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”

“We’ve just had the autopsy report. There were a few things
we needed to check out, that’s all.”

“You thought she’d been raped, didn’t you?”

“No, sir.”

“But we have to check these things out,” added Halshaw,
soothingly. “I hope you understand.”

Dave Kelmarsh looked from one police officer to the other,
his face a mixture of bewilderment and pain.

“That was all, Mr Kelmarsh,” said Chase. “Thank you very
much.”

Kelmarsh stood. “Who did this, Inspector?” he demanded. “Who
took my Lucy?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know. Not yet.”

“When you do, Inspector, you’d better keep them locked up.
Coz if I ever get my hands on them...”

The door slammed shut behind him.