Authors: Minette Walters
‘I don’t get it.’
‘Meg made all her phone calls on the Saturday morning,’ said Fraser slowly. ‘I wonder if the idea was to make the announcements and then leave for France
immediately. Let’s face it, she knew better than anyone what had happened to Russell Landy.’
‘Are you saying they’d still be alive if I hadn’t laid a guilt trip on her?’ asked Josh harshly.
‘I don’t know, sir. I think we need some idea of where they were on the Monday before we come to any conclusions. I mean, it’s you who put pressure on them to delay
their departure.’ Fraser looked at the other man closely before continuing. ‘And as things stand, I only have your word for it that she and Leo didn’t come here as
promised.’
Chapter Nineteen
Wednesday, 29 June, 53 Lansing Road, Salisbury, Wiltshire – midday
FLOSSIE HALE EXAMINED
the newspaper clipping of the Franchise Holding emblem. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, ‘no question, that’s the key-ring all
right.’ Next she turned her attention to the grainy faxed photograph of Miles and Fergus Kingsley in the members’ enclosure at Ascot and, after a brief hesitation, planted her finger on
a face. ‘That looks like him, but it’s not a very good picture, is it, love? I don’t recall his hair being as dark as that. The jacket’s similar.’
‘What about the man next to him?’
She held the page away from her, half-closing her eyes, as if looking at an impressionist painting. ‘The trouble is you don’t look at their faces much, not when
they’re punching you. You’re too scared. Yes,’ she said with sudden decision, stabbing at Miles again, ‘that’s him all right. Little bastard. I said butter
wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Who is he then?’
‘His name’s Miles Kingsley.’ WPC Blake retrieved the photograph and tucked it into her bag. Samantha Garrison had also picked out Miles and, if neither woman had
been quite as decisive as Blake would have liked, she put it down to the poor quality of the photocopy and postponed her niggling concerns over whether or not this could ever result in a successful
prosecution. If Flossie had been more co-operative at the start, allowed them in to dust for fingerprints or let them take swabs, they would have had something more concrete to work on.
‘Well, I don’t understand it,’ the older woman was saying. ‘How’d you turn what I told you into a blooming photograph of someone with the initials
MK?’
‘Just luck, Flossie. He’s a bit of a playboy, this creep. If you’re interested, the photograph was faxed through to us from
The Tatler
. You got done over by
one of society’s best. His dad’s a multi-millionaire.’
Flossie shook her head. ‘It makes you wonder what the world’s coming to. What’s he doing trawling Salisbury for cheap old tarts like me if he can afford the
high-class ones in London?’
Blake couldn’t answer that.
The Studio, Pimlico, London – 1.00 p.m.
Dean Jarrett was effusively helpful. ‘Well, of
course
, dear,’ he told Fraser, ladling out the charm while sussing him coolly from the corner of his eye. He
thought this policeman looked less of a homophobe than most, might even, if the friendly smile was anything to go by, be tolerably sympathetic towards Jinx and her bizarre entourage at the studio.
Certainly, he had taken Angelica’s pink hair in his stride and appeared unfazed by Dean’s flirting. ‘I can give you a blow-by-blow account of everything Jinx did from Tuesday the
thirty-first until Friday the third. But after that it’s a complete no-no, I’m afraid. She was at Hell Hall the next week, and we didn’t hear a dicky bird out of her –
didn’t expect to, of course, because she was on her hols – and then she did a vanishing trick on us. Angelica phoned and phoned on the Monday, when she was supposed to be here, and all
she got was Jinx’s answerphone.’
‘That would be the thirteenth of June?’
‘It would. And then, on the Tuesday, we heard the awful news that the poor mite was unconscious in hospital somewhere. I suppose you’ve seen her. Is she all
right?’
His face contorted itself into a moue of concern, and Fraser nodded reassuringly, even if he did find the expression less than sincere. ‘She seems fine. A bit hazy about what
happened, but otherwise very alert and very composed.’
‘Isn’t she
amazing
?’ said Dean. ‘Quite my most favourite lady.’
‘Yet you haven’t been to see her,’ said Fraser dispassionately, ‘or not as far as we know. Is there some reason for that?’
The moue vanished abruptly. ‘Yes, well, unlike the Josh Hennesseys and Simon Harrises of this world, who both tell me they’ve inflicted themselves on her, I prefer to
wait for an invitation. Imagine the awfulness of feeling like death and having well-meaning friends impose themselves on you. Jinx is a very private person. Half the time I think she’s
completely ignorant of how much we all adore her, the other half I retreat into my little shell because I’m afraid the truth is we bore her rigid.’ He sighed. ‘In any case I
didn’t know where she was for ages. Her brute of a father wouldn’t tell me.’
‘Still, I’m surprised she wasn’t worried about the studio.’
Dean gave a squeak of distress. ‘How crushing you are, Sergeant. Don’t you feel the poor darling has rather more pressing concerns at the moment than leaving her business
in the hands of the second best photographer in London?’
Fraser’s lips twitched. ‘What did you think of Leo?’
‘He was absolutely
dire
. A real leech, but could Jinx see it? Well, you know what the trouble is, she’s blinkered when it comes to a pretty face. Falls for the
outside, and forgets that what’s underneath is more important. It’s her father’s fault. He looks like an old vulture and he’s always been so damn distant with her that she
assumes a pretty face means a pretty personality.’ He rolled his eyes to Heaven. ‘I hate to say it, because he’s a very rude man, but I actually think Adam Kingsley is probably
worth ten Leo Walladers. If the number of phone calls he’s made, checking up on me and Angelica, is anything to go by, he cares about Jinx a great deal more than she’s ever given him
credit for. My
God
, if we’d thought about letting things slide – which we haven’t – he’d have been round here tearing our innards out.’
Fraser grinned. ‘You’ve met him then?’
‘I was introduced the first time he paid one of his terrifying visits,’ said Dean with a shudder, ‘as was Angie. But as I’m gay and she’s black, it was
hardly the social event of the century. He washed his hands afterwards in case he’d caught something. On all subsequent visits, he has grunted rudely in our direction and swept through to
talk to Jinxy in private.’
‘Why are his visits terrifying?’
‘Because he insists on bringing his tame gorilla with him.’ Dean rolled his eyes again. ‘Says he’s the chauffeur but since when did chauffeurs need
fifty-four-inch chests? The man is there to make mincemeat of anyone who dares say boo to the boss.’
‘That’s not so unusual these days, you know. A bodyguard-cum-chauffeur. Most millionaires have them. You said Mr Kingsley’s distant, but would you also say
he’s fond of Jinx?’
‘Yes, in a brooding sort of way. He never touches her, just sits and stares at her as though she were a piece of Dresden china. I get the feeling he can’t really believe
she’s his. I mean he’s common as muck, after all, and she’s such a lady, and the only other two children he had are A-one arseholes.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Fond
isn’t the right word. I think he idolizes her.’
‘How does she feel about that?’
‘Loathes it, but then you have to understand that he’s not idolizing Jinx, he’s idolizing the person he thinks she is. I mean, you’d have to be mentally
deficient to see Jinx as Dresden china. A piece of good solid Staffordshire pottery that bounces when you drop it and retains its integrity through a thousand washes, that’s a better
analogy.’
‘Why doesn’t Jinx put him straight?’
‘She’s tried, dear, but there’s none so blind as those who will not see. She was going to marry Leo Wallader, for God’s sake. What better demonstration could
there be of flawed judgement and appalling taste? Not that her father could see it, of course. Leo had blue blood in his veins, so he must have been a cut above the rest of us.’
Fraser smiled. ‘Tell me about Tuesday, May the thirty-first,’ he invited.
‘That was a very busy day. We had a teenage band here all morning who thought they were the bee’s knees. Their record company wanted some publicity shots and it was like
drawing blood from a stone to get them to do anything other than simper into the lens.’ He thought for a moment. ‘OK, in the afternoon we did some location work round Charing Cross
station for a television company. Atmospheric stills for a documentary on homelessness. We clocked off about six, because Jinx wanted to get home in reasonably good time.’
‘Did she say why?’
He shook his silver head. ‘But she was in a brilliant mood all day and, when I asked her if we could thank Leo for it, she said: “In one respect, I suppose you
can.” So I said: “Don’t tell me, darling, he’s finally come up trumps in the rogering department.” And she said: “Don’t be absurd, Dean, Leo would need to
be face down on a mirror to do that.” And I thought, thank God, she’s finally seen the light, but, for once, I was far too tactful to say it.’
Fraser grinned again. ‘Wednesday, June the first,’ he prompted.
‘Let me think now. All right. I spent the morning developing and printing contact sheets. There was some undeveloped film left over from the previous week, and the two projects
from the previous day. Jinx caught up on a mound of paperwork in order to clear it before she went on holiday. Wednesday afternoons are always reserved for portrait work, and I think we had five or
six families that day. Then we grabbed supper at about half-six, before going back to Charing Cross to finish the location work there. They wanted twilight and night-time shots as well, so we
didn’t clock off that day until about ten-thirty.’
‘And how was her mood on Wednesday?’
‘The same. Happy, sunny, brilliant. Angie and I were quite persuaded she’d given Leo the boot, but she didn’t say she had, so we guessed she was hanging fire till
she could tell her old man during her holiday. You’ve got to realize we’d been walking on egg shells for God knows how long. The mere mention of Leo’s name brought glowering looks
and an abrupt change of conversation. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, she’s her old sweet self again.’
‘And you put that down to the fact that she’d decided not to marry him after all?’
Dean nodded. ‘More than that, sweetheart, I put it down to the fact that he wasn’t
there
any more, and certainly not in her bed. For the first time in weeks, she
actually
wanted
to go home. Take the Thursday. She had me working like a slave all morning and, come the afternoon, she suddenly looks at her watch and says: “Do me a favour, Dean, and
mind the shop. There’s a few things I need to do at home, and tomorrow we’re out all day.” You could have knocked me over with a feather. She’d been avoiding the place like
the plague ever since Leo got his knees under her table.’
‘Why?’
Dean tut-tutted impatiently. ‘Because she realized she couldn’t stand him, of course, but she didn’t know how to admit it. Her father’s fault again.
He’d really gone to town on the wedding preparations, invited half of Surrey and Hampshire, and Jinx was too embarrassed to say anything. I mean, there were a couple of Cabinet ministers
coming, and you don’t tell them to bog off without a few qualms, do you?’
Fraser chuckled. ‘I’ve never had the chance. Could be fun, though.’ He paused. ‘It makes sense if he wasn’t there. She and he had a blazing row on the
Bank Holiday Monday, and the logical thing would have been for him to move out immediately.’ Pensively, he pulled at his lip. ‘But she claims he was there on the following Saturday
morning, June the fourth, when she left for Hellingdon Hall, remembers their farewells as fond ones.’
Dean shrugged. ‘Then Leo must have undergone a character transplant in the meantime. I swear to God, if the sight of blood were a little less sickening, I’d have bopped
him on the nose several times. He was a complete slime-ball.’
‘So what are you saying?’
‘That Jinx is telling fibs about the fond farewell.’
‘You think they had a row?’
‘No. I’m guessing she didn’t want anyone to know he’d gone, so pretended fond farewells that never happened. I mean, if we always had to tell the truth about
our relationships, we’d be wobbling jellies with no self-esteem. I lie all the time about mine – keep some lovers going long after they’ve deserted me.’
‘It’s a pity you didn’t tell the police all this at the time of her accident,’ said Fraser in mild reproof.
‘Well, I would have done, if they’d been remotely interested in anything prior to Friday, June the tenth, but all they wanted to know was had we seen or heard from her
since her return from Hampshire. I did say that we were a teensy-weensy bit surprised to hear she’d only cancelled the wedding on the Saturday after she got back from Hell Hall, when we were
sure she’d made up her mind two weeks earlier, but they said it was Leo who had jilted
her
, and as I couldn’t prove any different, there wasn’t much more to be
said.’
‘OK, then there’s just Friday the third left to cover. Anything unusual happen that day?’
‘Just a wall-to-wall fashion shoot in London’s Docklands. We began at eight-thirty and went right through to seven o’clock in the evening without a break. Jinx
dropped me off with all the cameras and equipment at the studio around seven-thirty, blew me a kiss and said: “It’s all yours for a week, so be good.” And I haven’t seen her
since.’
‘Have you spoken to her?’ asked Fraser idly.
‘Just once, on the telephone.’
‘When was that?’
‘Sunday night.’
‘Who called who?’
‘She called me.’
‘At home?’
Dean nodded.
‘It must have been important then,’ said Fraser.
‘Oh, it was,’ said Dean. ‘It was my thirtieth birthday and she knew I’d have died a
thousand
deaths if I hadn’t spoken to her, never mind
she’s flat on her back in hospital and suffering galloping amnesia.’ He beamed engagingly. ‘As I said, she’s quite my most favourite lady.’