Full of Money (10 page)

Esther didn't. A lie. Watching, she felt sure of that. Esther knew it to be the kind of trick tactic most interrogators used, though not one recommended in any manual. There could be no official endorsement of deception. Of course, Dean Feston might recognize a tactic, anyway. He had all that experience. Cule would risk it, just the same, because so far the interview had produced next to nothing.

And Esther saw his right leg quiver for a second. Not more than quiver – much less than a twitch. But Cule, also, would see it. He had crafted it. The purpose of such a lie broke into seven easily defined parts:

There was a theory around that if a suspect were told to give his/her account of events in reverse order he/she would be more likely to trip up. Lying took plenty of effort and care, even when presented as a straightforward version of things: much more effort and care than telling the truth. To lie in an anti-sequence way brought big extra strain, and possible errors. University researchers somewhere claimed to have proved the effectiveness of this type of interrogation and had given it a name – ‘cognitive load interviews'. All interrogations involved applying a load to the interviewee's brain. Back-to-front interrogation aimed to apply an
over
load.

But, of course, Dean Feston had heard of this ploy, and knew how to cope. Just as he had known how to cope with Cule's earlier attempt to throw him by momentarily upending the status positions and making himself look stupid. That tiny leg jerk might have signalled a minor triumph, but Feston had never slipped into complacency. The transcript didn't bother to follow any more questions and answers, merely summarized Feston's description of his activities on September 19 which, naturally, said there'd been no contact with Gervaise Manciple Tasker, nor even a sighting of him. And for a lot of the time there were references to witnesses who would support Feston.

The transcript of the interview with Gabrielle Barter Cornish was similarly useless. Probably under advice, she refused to answer all questions. Feston would never do that. He enjoyed conversation too much.

Eight

Dean Feston said: ‘The newspaper critics seemed to have liked what some others might regard as an extremely unfortunate development on the latest
A Week in Review
programme, Larry. Massively unfortunate. I call it unfortunate – massively unfortunate – but I can assure you that Adrian in no way feels you, as producer, were to blame. Not entirely at all. He does not see intent there. Hardly any intent to injure him personally.'

‘This is a live show and one must expect . . . well, life and all its unpredictabilities,' Pellotte said. He laced his voice with patience, reasonableness, conditional mercy.

‘It's what Adrian means by “live and let live” as quoted previously,' Dean said. ‘Up to a certain point, live and let live, his mantra. Up to a certain generously arrived at point. He believes that many have an absolute right to life. Yes, many.'

‘A pleasant place you have here, Larry,' Pellotte replied.

‘It suits me,' Larry Edgehill said. This time, Pellotte and Dean
had
doorstepped him. But they came by taxi, so there should be no neighbourhood speculation about the BMW parked outside 19a. They both wore fine, dark, double-breasted suits, Pellotte's grey, Dean's navy, to show respect for Edgehill and his property, though he knew they would probably have dressed with the same care if here to take him apart.

‘Adrian's thinking was that another interception in the street, as occurred in Gideon Road, previously, wouldn't be quite right for a more . . . more
substantive
talk,' Dean said. ‘I concurred readily, very readily. We did mention in Gideon the likelihood of something more substantive probably being necessary later, didn't we? Adrian saw the Gideon meeting as valuable and, indeed, timely, but only what the diplomats call “talk about talks”, meaning the more substantive get-together would follow.'

‘Along those lines, yes,' Pellotte said.

‘And then, on top of those, as it were,
general, prevailing
issues covered at that time in Gideon comes this additional, unexpected grossly gaudy lech factor in the latest of your programmes, Larry – your name across the screen in large, proud letters, “Produced by Larry Edgehill”. Adrian felt we needed a more settled environment for such a multifaceted discussion.'

‘Yes,' Pellotte said. ‘Probably better like this.'

‘Yet we still did not want to cause misguided and possibly detrimental comment from neighbours, and so, the cab.'

‘A surprise – the visit, I mean,' Edgehill replied.

‘I always say that Adrian and discretion are true blood brothers. His first thought always – discretion. Almost always. Plus empathy.'

‘Basic,' Pellotte said.

‘If that fucking taxi driver starts blabbing around he knows what he'll get,' Dean Feston said.

‘What?' Edgehill said.

‘Oh, yes,' Dean replied.

‘What?' Edgehill said.

‘Don't tell me taxi drivers are too stupid to realize how liable they are to garrotting, perched there, imprisoned behind the wheel, looking ahead, a passenger directly behind them,' Dean said. ‘This passenger could be carrying a nice little length of cord or chain. All right, there might be a sliding panel behind them, but it's standard, not reinforced, glass, you know.'

‘No, I've never asked,' Edgehill said.

‘Forgive us for arriving unannounced,' Pellotte said.

‘It's fine,' Edgehill said. ‘I'll make some tea.'

Pellotte gazed about. ‘Just right for someone at the moment on his own,' he said.

‘You
were
partnered, weren't you, Larry, your fourth relationship, but a decision to split twenty-nine weeks ago?' Dean said. ‘Amy Wright. She's with a snooker hall manager now Preston way – Graham Clatworthy. A 2.1 honours degree in Leisure and Entertainment from somewhere. These new courses! But they do say the classics are making a comeback.'

‘A useful spot, this,' Pellotte remarked. ‘The shops, the pub and Tube walkable.'

‘As we, of course, know,' Dean said, chuckling.

‘Our profile shows you don't run a car at present,' Pellotte said. ‘Not since the silver Ford, 1995.'

‘Not needed, as you say,' Edgehill replied.

‘Give Adrian the word if you do get wheels,' Dean said. ‘He can help in that respect. Instantly. This is not the kind of thing he'd speak to you directly about. Adrian would hate to sound intrusive and managing. But, yes, we
can
arrange immunity. We put a word around in the vehicle's favour. The reg is fed into our Data Resource Pool and reaches everyone fast. Sometimes cars get damaged on Whitsun, or even stolen.'

‘Is that right?' Edgehill replied.

‘But not if it's a car people know Adrian is, as it were, interested in personally, although it isn't his. Sort of proxy.'

Edgehill went into the kitchen and made tea. They sat in the living room. Dean had an easy chair, Edgehill and Pellotte on the settee.

Dean said: ‘When I refer to a “grossly gaudy lech factor” relating to the programme, I imagine you can make a guess at what it is, Larry, even though unexpected.'

‘I have a daughter,' Pellotte said.

‘Dione,' Feston said.

‘Lovely name,' Edgehill said.

‘Why I stressed “personal” in Gideon,' Dean said. ‘Anxieties of a father about his daughter or daughters must inevitably be categorized personal. What could be more so? I'm bound to think of King Lear.'

‘Well, I have two daughters, but it's Dione I'm concerned about now,' Pellotte said. ‘I don't know whether anyone has mentioned Dione to you, Larry.'

‘I've heard of her, naturally,' Edgehill said.

‘In which respect?' Dean said.

‘Or to be more precise, I wondered if Rupert Bale had spoken of her,' Pellotte said.

‘In a personal manner,' Dean said.

‘On an intimate basis,' Pellotte said.

‘Rupert?' Edgehill said. ‘No, I don't think so.'

‘Leaving aside temporarily that “grossly gaudy lech factor” during the latest programme – the actual, or seeming, lasciviousness right off the Richter scale – I have to explain, we're into a kind of
Romeo and Juliet
situation here,' Dean said, ‘though with age adjustments. Or
West Side Story
.'

‘Oh?' Edgehill replied.
Take it gently.