‘Have you the images from the crime scene?’ She was directing her questions at Lynch.
‘It’s another cold case, and unfortunately Italian paperwork moves even slower than our own. We should have it by the time you and Detective Inspector O’Connor arrive there.’
So it’s happening, she thought. ‘I’m going somewhere, am I?’ she said, emphasising her surprise.
Egan gave Lynch a disgruntled look. He hadn’t liked his reference to the speed of Irish paperwork, or that he had told Kate she was going on the international trip.
‘Sorry to spring this on you, Dr Pearson,’ Egan was keen to take back the reins, ‘but we don’t have any time to waste. I meant what I said at the briefing. It’s imperative we move fast. We’re a number of steps behind, with multiple crime scenes and case files to deal with. It is both fortunate and unfortunate that the two cases are outside our jurisdiction, and more unfortunate that we’re dealing with stale leads.’ He turned to Adam, who was leaning against the side wall, keeping quiet. ‘I’m depending on you, Detective, to work closely with Dr Pearson, and bring us back something tangible.’
‘Was any form of message left at the scene?’ Kate directed her question at all three men.
‘No, other than the fire being a potential Tarot card connection,’ Lynch replied.
‘Was Michele Pinzini drugged?’
‘We know the victim and his wife had been out dining. They’d had an argument. According to the original investigation, Pinzini was very drunk. The autopsy report confirmed high levels of alcohol in his system. His wife also said he’d been drinking heavily.’
‘Had he drunk enough to lapse into unconsciousness?’
Again Lynch answered: ‘Possibly – but outside that, the police found traces of sedatives in his bloodstream and his wife’s. The wife’s statement said, one moment they were arguing, the next she was coughing her guts up in the room with the emergency services around her, and her husband was dead beside her.’
‘The victim’s age and profession?’
Gary Egan answered this time. ‘He was in his forties, a photographer, and a very successful one. He did a lot of work for fashion magazines.’
‘A photographer,’ she repeated, contemplating how that would fit with everything they had so far.
Egan stood up. ‘Dr Pearson, we can make all the travel arrangements at this end, but you’ll need to confirm your availability for tomorrow.’
‘Which destination are we going to first?’
‘We’ve provisionally booked yourself and Detective Inspector O’Connor on a six a.m. flight tomorrow from Dublin to Charles de Gaulle airport, and then onto Rome the following day. That will give the Italian end of the operation time to pull out any case details we need. I appreciate this is short notice, but there’s not a lot we can do about it.’
‘I understand. Give me an hour.’ It was her turn to stand up.
‘I’m looking forward to reading your report, Dr Pearson.’ Egan leaned forward to shake her hand, content in the knowledge that both her interim report and confirmation of travel plans were almost securely in the bag. ‘O’Connor, will you walk Dr Pearson out?’
Adam held the door open for her, still the old-fashioned kind of guy, she thought. With Egan’s door firmly closed behind them, she said, ‘You kept very quiet in there.’
‘There’s no point in saying anything unless you’ve something to say.’
‘I guess not.’ She suspected there was more to it than that. ‘I’ll have to make a phone call. Is there somewhere I can go – somewhere private?’
‘Sure.’
She was glad he didn’t ask why. She wasn’t looking forward to her conversation with Declan, but there was no way around it now.
SANDRA
THE FAMILIAR SMELL hits me, like a slap in the face, in the same way that the memory of Edgar turning the key in the front door of this house keeps coming back to me. The aroma of a man’s cologne conjures up so much. He has taken me for an idiot. All I feel is anger, against him and her. The voice inside my head is telling me to forget about any alarm systems, or fear of being caught, and find out everything I can.
I wait a few seconds before moving, the silence of the house a form of security. There are no police cars with bright lights arriving outside. No one knows I’m here. Looking up the stairs, I’m conscious that I may not have a lot of time, but then another thought strikes me, causing the panic to rise again. I have no idea what I’m looking for.