Faithfully: Chase & Halshaw #1 (17 page)

“You look absolutely stunning,” was all Chase could think of
to say, once the waiter had delivered their drinks and departed.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she beamed.

Chase noticed more than a hint of a blush in her pale
cheeks. “I’m really glad you came,” he said.

The blush grew a little stronger. “I’m really glad you asked
me.”

“How’s Amy?”

She frowned. “OK, thanks. She’s on her way back from
Edinburgh. Her flight landed about twenty minutes ago. She sent me a text while
I was in the taxi.”

“Did you say she has friends there?”

“That’s right. A Canadian chap called Bruce. He lives in
Leith. They’ve been friends since university. She goes up there quite often.”

“Boyfriend, is he?”

“No!” she laughed. “Bruce lives with his partner Kelvin.”

“There’s no answer to that, is there?”

“Not really,” she chuckled, taking a generous swig of her
drink.

Chase thought for a moment. “Can I ask you something?” he
asked.

She smiled indulgently. “Of course you can. Ask me
anything.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be off duty?” she parried.

“You said I could ask you anything.”

“I know. But I didn’t say I’d answer your question, did I?”
she chuckled.

Nonplussed, he took a pull of his lager.

She reached out and brushed his hand with hers. “I’m only
teasing,” she smiled, her eyes locked on his.

“I know,” he mumbled, abashed.

She laughed. “What do I do for a living? Nothing very high
powered, I’m afraid. My friend Lily has a florist’s shop in Harrow, and I work
there. Just part time, a few mornings a week, but it gets me out of the house
and keeps me in groceries.”

The waiter appeared at his elbow. “Have you decided yet?” he
asked.

“No, we haven’t,” Chase replied in embarrassment.

Anna smiled encouragingly across the table. “What did you
have last time you came here?” she asked.

“Steak frites. Very rare. And house salad.”

“Good?”

“Very.”

“I’ll have that, then.”

Chase turned to the waiter. “Two steak frites. Very rare.
And two house salads on the side, please.”

“Certainly, madam, sir. Some wine, perhaps?”

“Do you like red wine, Anna?” he asked, her name still
awkward on his lips.

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded enthusiastically, with another
dazzling smile.

“Can we have a bottle of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape, please?”
he asked the waiter.

“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t carry it.”

“I had an excellent Châteauneuf-du-Pape when I was here last
week,” Chase insisted.

“I’m sorry,” the waiter repeated. “We’ve never carried a
Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Not in the five years I’ve worked here.”

“OK,” sighed Chase, mystified. He picked up the wine list,
opened it, then tossed it back on to the table in exasperation. “What do you
recommend?”

“The Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon is very popular, sir. Unless
you’d prefer something Italian. A Bardolino, perhaps? A nice Chianti?”

Chase glanced across at Anna, his eyebrows raised. She
shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “The Chilean Cabernet is fine,” he said to the
waiter.

“Anything to start with?”

Chase looked across at her again. She shook her head. “I
think I’ll leave room for dessert,” she smiled.

“Me too.” Chase turned to the waiter. “No thanks,” he said.

“Thank you,” the waiter responded, and drifted off towards
the kitchen.

“I don’t understand,” said Chase, turning back to face Anna.
“I definitely had Châteauneuf-du-Pape last week. Very nice it was, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “Really. It’s lovely of
you to invite me out. It doesn’t happen very often.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.”

“Sad but true, I’m afraid. And on the rare occasions when it
does happen he always seems to have an ulterior motive.” She frowned for a
moment, but then smiled bravely. “But I’m not going to let that spoil my
evening,” she went on. “You said you were here last week?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“With a woman?”

“Yes. She was helping me with one of my cases.”

“Who was she?”

“A dominatrix,” he said, and then wished he hadn’t.

Anna’s eyebrows shot up. “Maybe that’s what I should have
done.”

“How do you mean?”

“Bought a whip and dressed up in leather. That would have
kept my ex-husband in line.”

“You wouldn’t want to change places with her,” Chase replied
grimly.

“Why?”

“Because she was murdered. Later that night.”

“Oh God! How awful!” Anna’s eyes shone with excitement.
“Does that always happen to your dates?”

“I never have dates. Well, not very often.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.”

“Sad but true, I’m afraid.”

“Touché!” she laughed, gaily.

The waiter arrived with the wine, and poured a little into
Chase’s glass. He went through the ritual of tasting, trying not to be
distracted by Anna’s look of wry amusement, then looked up at the waiter and
nodded. The waiter filled both their glasses and departed.

Chase took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about this, Anna,” he
said. “But I need to ask you a couple of work questions. Is that OK?”

She smiled encouragingly. “I said you could ask me
anything,” she replied.

He didn’t smile back. “Do you know a woman called Lucy
Faith? Otherwise known as Lucy Kelmarsh?”

“Yes, of course. She’s a Life Coach, isn’t she?”

“She was. She was murdered the other day.”

“Is she the dominatrix you mentioned?”

“I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid. Where do you know her
from?”

“I had some appointments with her, a couple of years back.”
A wry smile. “As a Life Coach, of course, rather than a dominatrix.”

“Of course,” smiled Chase, “How many appointments did you
have?”

“Not many. Two, maybe three. Why?”

“And how did you meet her?”

“Through Amy. She works with Lucy’s husband Dave.”

“What happened?”

“We had a few consultations, that’s all. She seemed really nice,
but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It wasn’t long after Chris left me,
Mummy was very ill, and I was pretty mixed up. Amy hoped Lucy might help me get
straightened out, but...”

“You seem to have done pretty well without her help.”

She smiled. Chase felt his insides melt. “One last
question,” he forced himself to say.

She nodded.

“When did you last have any contact with your husband?”

Her smile evaporated. “Too recently, whenever it was.”

“I need you to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

“He still sends me a Christmas card every year. I don’t send
him one, though.”

“And other than Christmas cards?”

She thought for a moment. “Just over a year ago. He phoned
me to tell me he was getting married again.”

“That was decent of him.”

“Decent? Not likely. He phoned to bloody well gloat!” she
snapped.

Chase looked at her and said nothing. She downed the last of
her Vodka and Tonic and stared back at him defiantly.

“And since then?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Sure?”

“I’d remember, Inspector,” she retorted angrily. “I remember
every contact I’ve ever had with that creep. God, I wish I could forget
sometime.”

Chase sighed. “Thanks, Anna. Interview over. That was all I
wanted to ask.”

“So that was why you wanted to see me, was it?” she asked,
the twinkle beginning to return to her eyes.

“No. I wanted to see you because... well, because I wanted
to see you. That conversation was a bonus.”

“For you, perhaps.”

“I’m sorry.”

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Don’t be,
Al. I’m sorry I’m still so screwed up about it all. I’m really glad you asked
me out, honestly.”

Chase started to mumble something, thought better of it, and
guzzled most of his wine in embarrassment.

She refreshed his glass immediately. “Can I ask you
something?”

“Of course.”

“What made you want to become a policeman?”

“Other than my name, you mean?”

She shook her head and smiled. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“OK. I was a student in the eighties, during the miners’
strike, and the police weren’t exactly popular at that time. Not with students,
anyway. But I’d always wanted to be a detective, you know, like Sherlock Holmes
or Father Brown. In my last year at university I went to a graduate recruitment
fair and got talking with the girl on the Metropolitan Police stand. We spent
ages chatting, and she sent me away with all the forms. I applied the next
day.”

“She inspired you, did she?”

“No! I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life at the
time.” He pulled a face. “And I still don’t.”

She smiled sympathetically. “So you joined the police on the
off-chance of meeting the girl on the stand?”

“Something like that, I suppose.”

“And did you? Meet her again, I mean?”

“Yes, funnily enough. Years later, at a conference. She’d
left the police by that time and was working for a civil liberties group.”

“What was her name?”

Chase pretended to think deeply. “I’m not sure,” he replied.
“Sam, maybe.”

“So it’s thanks to Sam that you’re here, is it?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“What did your friends think when you told them you were
joining the police?”

“Not a lot. I had a girlfriend at the time. Francesca, she
was called. She was livid when she found out. That was the beginning of the end
with her, definitely.”

“Before Miriam, I take it?”

Chase nodded.

“So how did you meet her? Miriam, I mean.”

“Oh, Miriam was my best friend at University. Her boyfriend
Steve dumped her about the same time that Francesca and I split up. After a
while we got together. Simple as that, really.”

“Sounds terribly sensible.”

He grinned ruefully. “Yes. It was. That was the trouble, you
see.”

“How do you mean?”

“We’d just come out of relationships that were intense but
destructive. I think we both just decided that companionship was a better bet
than passion.”

“And was it?”

“Yes. Well, it was for a time. But I came to realise that I
wanted to feel passion for someone again. Before it was too late, if you see
what I mean.”

“And what about her?”

“Miriam? God knows. I’m still not sure what she really
wanted, even now. I’m not sure she does, either.”

“But did you love her?”

Chase sipped his wine thoughtfully. “Yes,” he replied. “I
did love her. I still do, I suppose. In a way. But that’s not really the
point.”

“No?”

“I don’t think so. Loving someone is very different to being
in love with them, isn’t it?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“I think so, yes. It’s a terrible cliché, I know, but I
can’t think of a better way to put it.”

Anna looked back at him, a sympathetic look in her eyes and
strange smile playing around her lips. But before she could respond, the waiter
appeared with their meals.

“This looks nice,” she smiled, seizing her serrated knife
and fork and slicing into her steak.

“I hope so,” Chase said, uncertainly. “The portions are
definitely smaller than last time.”

“Well, it’s certainly rare,” she went on, inspecting the
morsel on her fork uncertainly. “Here goes.” She took the morsel off her fork
and chewed experimentally, her smile rapidly glazing over.

“You’re not enjoying that, are you?” he asked.

She spat out the meat into her napkin with relief. “No, to
be honest. Sorry, Al, but it’s too rare for me.”

Chase cut himself a small piece of steak and tried it. It
was chewy, and tasted more like liver than steak, but at least he managed to
swallow it.

“I’m really sorry, Anna. This isn’t a patch on what I had
last week.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, briskly. “Waiter!”

The waiter, who happened to be passing by with an empty
tray, stopped in his tracks. “Yes, Madam?” he said. “Is everything to your
satisfaction?”

She shot him a winning smile. “Can you ask chef to give
these steaks an extra couple of minutes for us, please?”

“Certainly, Madam,” replied the waiter, too startled to
think of any other response. He gathered up their plates and departed.

“Thanks,” said Chase, smiling awkwardly.

“That’s all right. What were we talking about?”

“My marriage, such as it was.”

“It sounds far more successful than mine.”

“Maybe. But it’s a pretty depressing subject, don’t you
think?”

“What is? Your marriage or mine?”

“Both, probably.”

“Very true,” she laughed.

“Let’s talk about something more pleasant, shall we?”

“Sounds good. What had you in mind?”

Chase’s mind went blank. “Amy, perhaps?” he stammered, after
an awkward pause.

Her eyes narrowed. “What about my daughter?” she demanded.

“I mean, well, how is she? Is she happy?”

“I think so, yes. She’s still upset about the break-in, of
course, but other than that she’s OK. Why?”

“Does she have any problems?”

“Not that I know of. Well, no more than anyone else does at
that time of life.”

“Any undesirable friends?”

“No. Why are you asking?”

“Does she have any men in her life...?”

Anna tossed her cutlery on to her side plate with a crash.
Several startled diners looked up. Then she flung her napkin on to the table
and stood, her eyes blazing.

Chase’s stomach sank. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I thought you wanted to spend the evening with me,” she
replied, coldly. “I didn’t realise what you were up to.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve been here before, and I’ve absolutely no desire to go
there again.”