TRACE - CSI Reilly Steel #5 (Forensic novel Police Procedural Series) (13 page)

‘Eighteen months,’ said Nico. ‘I went into business with Ellis. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He is one of the premier chefs in London. Not to everyone’s taste, but he is doing some ground-breaking things with food.’

‘Is he here now?’

‘Tony has other restaurants in London and he’s not always on site. He designs the menu and cooks for important events, but I am the chef de cuisine. He has the vision.’

‘And the restaurant is doing well?’

Nico gave a small but satisfied smile. ‘It is doing very well, yes.’

The waitress delivered them three small, steaming coffees, with a shard of biscotti on the side.

‘Which of you hired Harry McMurty?’ asked Chris.

‘It was my mistake, I am sorry to say,’ said Nico. ‘Tony does not usually take part in hiring staff and the like.’

‘Can you tell us what you know about Harry? His personality, anything strange you noticed about him? Basically, everything you remember.’

‘Of course,’ said Nico. ‘I just want to say that I feel very saddened about all this. I feel that in hiring Harry, I may have given him access to connections he might not otherwise have had.’

‘We find that these kinds of people are usually very determined,’ said Chris. ‘He would have found a way, with or without any assistance provided to him. He could be very charming, we’ve learned.’

‘Yes,’ said Nico. ‘He was very charming, when he wanted to be. But let me start at the beginning.’ He took a sip of his coffee, smiled ruefully and began.

‘We had just started the restaurant when Harry approached me. He was working somewhere else, but after an incident with a colleague …’ here he shook his head slightly, ‘he said he felt too traumatized to work there any longer. He said he wanted to be a chef, that he had a passion for fine cuisine, but that he could not afford to put himself through school. He just wanted to be a part of a successful restaurant in any way possible.’

‘And so you hired him?’

‘I did more than hire him, I’m afraid,’ said Nico. ‘In a way, I began to mentor him. What I saw was a determined but disadvantaged young man. I knew he could only read and write enough to figure out the menu, but he was very good with clientele. He knew how to make them laugh, how to incite them to be adventurous. He did out here what Tony and I do in the kitchen. He wowed, he impressed.’

‘Often common traits in psychopaths,’ Reilly commented.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I soon began to see that all was not well. I tried to teach him things in the kitchen, and he was a very good cook, but impatient with himself and others. I saw him strike a kitchen hand. I knew that he had problems with the waitresses. I had them quitting left, right and centre. They would fall in love with him and he would treat them badly. I knew that he took drugs, but not to what extent. You must understand,’ he looked at them pleadingly, ‘it is common for the kids to take drugs in this business. They not only want to do their jobs, they want to do them and then go out dancing until dawn. It is different for an old man like me. Those days are done. I want to do my job and go home and put my feet up.’

‘We understand,’ Chris told him. ‘And that’s not why we’re here.’

‘But it was different with Harry. I realized that he was selling young waitresses hard drugs, and also that he was dealing to some of our customers. He had personal relationships with some of our clientele. If I may speak openly, it was another way to make money for him, to provide companionship to older, rich women.’

He sighed, held his hands out in a gesture of exasperation. ‘What can I say? I had been very foolish. I began to see that. Tony wanted him gone, he said he was drawing negative attention to the restaurant and he was right. I was on the cusp of firing him when this happened. I wish I had done it sooner.’

‘It wouldn’t have made a difference,’ said Reilly. ‘None of it is your fault. Can you tell us how much access he had to the kitchen?’

‘Unlimited, really. The staff are often here earlier than we, and later, cleaning up and doing prep. I trusted him to begin with, simply because he was so driven. Later, when it was clear that he was unhinged, I did not know how to rescind that trust without making him unbalanced.’

‘And your use of antimine, or the Joker Fruit?’ asked Chris. ‘Can you tell us more about that?’

Nico sighed. ‘It was something we did when we first opened, to make a splash. Now everyone does it, so we don’t do it any longer. But yes, we used it to begin with. Tony prepared it, or I did, under his supervision. I am sorry to say that Harry was present at some of those times. He was intrigued by the fruit, very interested in the method of preparation.’

‘Ok,’ Chris said, having heard this before from Gemma Collins, the other chef. ‘Thank you very much. You’ve given us some good background.’

They got up and shook hands once more and Reilly noticed Nico wince as he rose. ‘Injury?’ she asked.

‘You could say that,’ he answered. ‘I cycle — long distance. Just finished a long ride at the weekend.’

Something clicked in her brain. ‘All that spandex,’ she said. ‘Pretty unforgiving uniform.’

He laughed. ‘Absolutely. Comfortable though.’

She scanned his left hand. No ring. ‘And your girlfriend? She doesn’t mind you spending so much time away on weekends?’

Nico laughed again, and reddened slightly. ‘No girlfriend,’ he said. ‘I haven’t met the right person. Unsociable hours. I’m sure you know the feeling well.’

‘We do,’ said Chris. ‘Thank you for your time.’

Back in the car, he asked: ‘So, what do you think?’

‘I think we need a very close look at Mr Peroni. Preparation of antimine: check. Knows a lot of women who like fine food: check. Spandex: check. Handsome, youngish, single. And easily able to get close enough to Harry McMurty to kill him.’

Chapter 23

Lucy had her second hypnotherapy appointment that afternoon.

‘I’m really nervous,’ she confided to Gary, over lunch. ‘More nervous than last time. Because now I’m pretty certain there’s definitely something there. And I’m afraid of it.’

‘You’re amazing,’ said Gary. ‘Seriously, you’re being so brave.’

‘Not as brave as Reilly,’ said Lucy. ‘Seriously, my dad tore strips off her the other day. There was something else as well that he was angry about, but she won’t tell me what. She doesn’t want anything else about Grace’s case to compromise my therapy. Apparently the mind is really easy to influence. Like, if she tells me she’s looking into something, my mind might spontaneously create memories based on that.’

‘So no matter what you remember, it probably won’t be admissible?’

Lucy took a bite of her sandwich, chewed and swallowed and shook her head. ‘No. not in a court. But Reilly wants to see if I know anything that will lead somewhere.’

They were silent for a moment as they ate. Then Lucy said: ‘You know, I sort of hope that I don’t know anything. Because that means that I’ve been hiding it all this time, when maybe we could have found Grace. And if she suffered more because of me … then I just won’t be able to live with myself.’

‘It’s not your fault, Luce. Just keep talking about it. And know that I’m here, any time of day or night. You need someone to talk to too.’ He blushed. ‘I know I’m…a bit full on. But seriously, I come in friendship only. Anything else is your call.’

Lucy nodded. It was a strange declaration to make in the middle of the work cafe with sandwiches and potato salad sitting between them, but she felt its sincerity.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘That means something. Really.’

At the therapist’s office, the same feeling of weariness and complete surrender overcame Lucy once more. She seemed to float on a sea made entirely of herself, made of her memories. She was carried in the river of her own past. But no matter what, she couldn’t take those memories back with her. When she awoke, all her anxieties and thoughts rushed in once again.

‘Did something happen?’ she asked. ‘Did you start yet?’

‘We’re finished,’ said the therapist. ‘You were great. How do you feel?’

‘I feel fine,’ said Lucy. ‘A little tired.’

‘Yes,’ said the therapist. ‘Like last time, you must rest. You must not drink or take any drugs, or over-excite yourself.’

‘OK,’ said Lucy. She blushed. Last time, she had gone out after her session and gone drinking with Gary until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe she should have hypnotherapy to find out how she felt about Gary. Because she didn’t seem to be able to tell simply by thinking about him.

As arranged she dropped the audio transcript off to Reilly at her flat. Her boss had told her there was no way she could keep working on Grace’s case during work time, not if she wanted to keep her job. Lucy felt bad that she was making her work additional hours, but her desire to find out what happened to Grace was stronger. Anything was worth it now, she knew that.

She hadn’t been inside the flat before. Reilly greeted her at the door, dressed in an ankle length green dress. It was unlike anything she ever wore to work and she looked completely stunning. Lucy couldn’t help but be envious of Reilly’s figure. She was slender, but rounded in all the right places, whereas Lucy was round everywhere. ‘You look amazing,’ she said. ‘Are you going out somewhere?’

‘Oh. No,’ said Reilly, smiling. ‘This is just something I throw on at home. But I was thinking you could stay for dinner if you like. I made fish tacos with salsa verde.’

‘Sounds amazing,’ said Lucy. ‘Hypnotherapy gives me a huge appetite.’

As they sat down to eat the tacos, a wave of nausea washed over Reilly. She pushed her plate away. ‘I’ve been feeling a bit off lately,’ she explained. ‘Stomach bug or something.’

‘Maybe you should go to the doctor?’

Reilly smiled. ‘That’s what everyone is saying, but I swear I’m fine. Just tired, I think.’

‘It’s been a rough couple of weeks. What’s going to happen with the Armstrong case now?’

Reilly sighed and took a sip of her water. ‘Well, Inspector O’Brien thinks we have our man but I’m worried we haven’t heard the last from The Chef.’

‘The Chef?’

‘That’s what I’ve dubbed the unsub. I’m pretty sure the guy is a chef. So much of the evidence points that way. The quality kitchen ware, knowledge of food, precision and attention to detail …’

They ate the rest of the meal without talking about work. Lucy confided in Reilly about her confused feelings about Gary.

‘I mean, I do like him. I’m just not sure if it’s any more than just a friend.’

‘Well,’ said Reilly. ‘It’s a tricky situation. But I think that you shouldn’t jump into anything if you feel at all ambivalent. There’s a lot at stake. It could make your working environment really unpleasant.’

When she left, Lucy felt a little embarrassed at having talked to Reilly about this kind of thing. Reilly herself was so professional, kept her own cards so close to the chest. She would never do a thing like that.

She shouldn't really be blabbering to her boss about her relationship worries. It was enough that Reilly already was listening in on recordings of Lucy’s deepest, darkest secrets.

Chapter 24

What perfect synchronicity, that the day I plan to kill another victim is the day I should run into the people who have been so awful at catching me.

How wonderful, that they haven’t given up completely. I have the woman pegged for exactly what she is. Blindly dedicated to her work, thinking that she makes a difference. I’ve got news for her: you have made no difference. More will die, and there’s nothing you can do.

They would make a nice pair, those two. Beautiful children. But she won’t relinquish her clammy grasp on success. Their blindness to me was so complete that it made me feel bold. As though I could go up to them and say: I am the one, and there would be nothing they could do to touch me.

I’ve been keeping very busy. I have gathered information on Constance Dell. Because of the prevalence of that stupid invention, Facebook, I have found out a lot about my little cousin. Surprise, surprise, a love of long distance running runs in the family. Pun intended. Little Connie has joined a running group.

As a rule, I hate those things. I prefer to run alone, with my thoughts, but in this case I will make an exception. She is very active on the group’s page, asking newbie questions and so on. Who better to mentor her than someone
who has years of experience? Who better to tell her exactly how she can learn the discipline, the dedication of such a craft? Although, I suspect from her soft upbringing that she doesn’t have the same drive that I do, the same capacity for self-punishment. Her profile is full of pictures of her and her witch mother enjoying holidays, Christmas, shopping trips. Sadly, all to soon come to an end.

I prepare for tonight with much anticipation. I imagine that the girl prepares in the same way, moisturizing and scenting her skin, ridding her body of unsightly hair, of an excess.

She will be perfect for the night of her death. Make no mistake, there is something ritualistic in serving people food, even more so in preparing someone’s last meal. In the same way, you would prepare a lamb for sacrifice.

I am looking forward to tonight, but it has taken on the feeling of a dress rehearsal. Constance is the main act, now.

After Lucy left, Reilly put the CD of her hypnotherapy session in the player. She would have rather done anything else, but she felt duty bound. She felt exhausted, and Lucy’s confessions about Gary had only drained her further. They just served to remind her of her own confused feelings about Chris. She was glad that Kennedy would be back soon to act as a buffer between them.

The session started with the same routine as the time before, the therapist slowly lulling Lucy into a state of openness. Reilly almost felt that she was being pulled into sleep herself. She forced herself to focus.

‘Are you afraid, Lucy?’ The therapist began.

‘Yes,’

‘Why?’

Lucy sighed petulantly. ‘I told you. Grace says that if I tell, they’ll come after me too.’

‘Who will come after you?’

‘His brother.’

‘Why would he come after you?’

‘He is bad. Very bad. He did the thing to Grace.’

‘What thing did he do to her?’

‘You know,’ she said. ‘You know. Grace came home hurt. She said Darren hated it but he can’t stop it. His brother is bad. He makes her do things.’

Oh God …
Reilly stopped the recording. Her heart was pounding. The feeling was so strong she put a hand to her chest. She truly thought her heart might leap out. This was the kind of breakthrough everyone investigating the case had been hoping for for almost eighteen years, and it had slipped out of Lucy like a fish from water.

‘Is your sister angry?’

‘She’s upset. She wants to run away with Darren. They love each other. He can’t stop it. His brother does it to hurt him. Because he loves Grace. He isn’t allowed to love her.’

‘What does his brother do to Grace?’

‘You know,’ said Lucy. ‘You know.’

Reilly switched off the recording then. She switched it off and put her head in her hands and cried.

She cried for the fourteen year old Grace, for having gone through such a thing, for Lucy, for having carried it for so many years, and even for Darren himself, who had tried and failed to escape his brother.

She felt, at that moment, that there was truly no end to the misery of the world.

When Chris’s mobile rang at 11pm, he almost ignored it. He was halfway through a good book, an excellent glass of red wine by his side. But you can’t ignore the call of duty. ‘Hello?’

‘Chris, it’s me.’

‘Reilly, what’s wrong?’

‘Can I come over?’ she said. ‘I need to see you.’

He didn’t ask any questions. ‘I’ll pick you up, if you like.’ he said. ‘I’ll be there soon.’

Reilly didn’t look at him in the car and he didn’t ask her what was wrong. But once she was standing in the middle of his living room, seemingly blind to her surroundings, she gave him such a naked look of need that it almost leveled him.

‘Reilly…’ he began.

‘Please,’ she said, placing her hands on his chest. ‘Don’t say anything.’

He took her in his arms and soon all words were forgotten. It was like returning home after a long absence, Chris thought, like eating when you have been starving.