When Gemma and Kerry walked out of the hotel after saying goodbye to Chris Cusick, Gemma felt her mobile vibrate. Checking it, she saw that she’d just missed a call. She put a hand over her other ear, trying to shut out some of the traffic noise as she listened to a garbled voice message.
“That was Asia Ford,” she said to Kerry when it finished. “Something about the high-proof alcohol she uses for her limoncello having gone missing. She sounded quite upset.” Gemma tapped Redial on the number, but it rang half a dozen times before switching over to what sounded like an answering machine. She disconnected without leaving a message. “No answer. But in her message she said she’d be waiting to hear back from us.”
“High-proof alcohol?” Kerry looked dismayed. “Christ. Don’t tell me it was right under our noses the whole time. We’d better go have a word with her.”
Now, Gemma regretted the walk back up the incline of Earl’s Court Road, which had seemed gentle enough going down. Her legs were aching by the time they reached the police station, and even Kerry was puffing a bit. When they reached Gemma’s car, she tried Asia Ford’s number again. Still no answer. Her unease grew. “Let’s take mine,” she said, unlocking the Escort, and Kerry agreed.
“High-proof alcohol,” Kerry repeated as Gemma drove. “Easily accessible to anyone who knew she used it. Not Edward Miller’s raw spirits at all.”
“You can’t think Asia Ford gave it to Reagan?”
“I doubt she’d be calling us if she had.” Taking out her phone, Boatman typed something in. “Listen. Here’s a recipe: ‘151 proof grain alcohol. Lemon zest. Sugar. Water.’ It says not to use vodka because even the strongest vodka has flavor.”
“Everyone on the garden knew Asia made limoncello,” said Gemma. “Or if they didn’t, they knew after the garden party.” She tried to push her speed up a bit, but it was pointless in the congestion of Kensington High Street at near lunchtime. Handing her mobile to Kerry, she added, “Try again, why don’t you?”
Kerry complied, then shook her head when there was no answer. “Maybe she forgot.”
“Asia Ford may be a little eccentric, but she didn’t strike me as the least bit dotty.”
“Maybe when you didn’t ring back right away, she decided it wasn’t urgent.”
“Maybe,” said Gemma.
They rang Asia Ford’s bell but there was no reply. They rang again and waited. Kerry was starting to look annoyed. “Really,” she said, “if it was that impor—”
“Let’s try Nita’s,” Gemma interrupted. “Maybe we can go through the garden.”
They walked two doors up, but there was no answer at the Cusicks’, either.
“How about Mrs. Armitage, then,” suggested Gemma. “She’s most likely to be home this time of day.” It meant going round the Kensington Park Road end of the garden. As they walked, Gemma tried to see through the thick rose hedge that covered the garden’s only area of iron fencing, along the street, but it was impenetrable. Sleeping Beauty’s hedge, indeed, she thought.
Mrs. Armitage answered on the first ring, to Gemma’s relief. “Detectives. What can I do for you?” she asked with a smile, ushering them in. “Have you come back for tea and tarts?”
“Could you let us into the garden?” Gemma asked. “I had a call from Asia Ford, saying she wanted to see us urgently, but now she’s not answering her phone or her door. We thought perhaps she might be outside.”
“Of course. Do come through. That’s not like Asia,” Mrs. Armitage added, frowning, as she led them down to the kitchen and out the back door. “Did she say why she wanted to see you?”
“Something about her limoncello,” Gemma said, not wanting to elaborate until she had a better idea what this was about.
To Gemma’s surprise, Mrs. Armitage led them, not by the path, but straight across the grass. “I don’t think Clive will mind if we walk on the grass for once,” she said. The garden seemed different today, Gemma thought, feeling the soft turf give beneath her feet. It took her a moment to realize that in the last half hour, clouds had come scudding in from the west. The light had gone soft and gray, making the colors of the grass and flowers seem more intense, and she caught the faintest scent of rain in the air.
There was no sign of Asia Ford in the communal garden. But as they drew nearer to her house, they saw that the little gate into Asia’s covered patio stood open. “That’s odd,” murmured Mrs. Armitage. “Asia never leaves her gate open.”
Gemma’s uneasiness plummeted to dread. Hurrying, she was first through the gate, calling out, “Asia? Miss Ford?”
The kitchen door stood open as well. There was a faint sound from inside and Gemma hurried into the kitchen. Asia Ford sat on one of the wicker kitchen chairs, holding a tea towel to the back of her head. Her face was white as chalk and the look she gave Gemma was puzzled.
“Christ,” said Kerry, coming up behind Gemma, just as Gemma saw that towel was stained with blood.
“Miss Ford!” Gemma ran to her. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Asia Ford started to shake her head, then winced. “I was just going into the greenhouse for something. I don’t remember now what it was. And, then, the next thing I knew, my face was on the bricks, and when I tried to move, my head hurt like bloody hell. Did I fall?”
“Let’s have a look, shall we?” Gemma said. Mrs. Armitage, who’d been hovering, handed Gemma a clean tea towel and Gemma smiled her thanks. First, she looked right into Asia’s eyes, and saw to her relief that the pupils were not dilated. Then, she moved round behind the chair and very gently lifted the stained towel. Asia’s fine, light brown hair was matted around the wound with drying blood, but even so, Gemma could see the gash in the scalp. It was below the crown, and just a bit to the right of center. The wound was still seeping and its edges were ragged.
“Ouch,” she said, folding the clean towel into a pad and placing it carefully over the injury. “You’ve got quite a cut there. Do you remember feeling faint? Hitting your head on something as you fell?”
“No. I rang you, though, didn’t I? I remember taking the phone with me out to the greenhouse, in case you rang me back. I must have dropped it, mustn’t I?”
“We’ll have a look. I’m sure we’ll find it,” Gemma reassured her.
“Was that you? At the door?” Asia still sounded muzzy. “I heard the bell but I couldn’t quite manage to get up . . .” Asia wrinkled her brow in puzzlement. “I don’t understand. How did you get in the house if I didn’t let you in?”
“Mrs. Armitage brought us through the garden. Miss Ford, you’re going to need some stitches in that cut, I’m afraid. And the medics will want to give you a good going-over.” She glanced at Kerry, who already had her mobile out and was speaking quietly into it.
“But I’m fine, really. I—” Asia made as if to stand, but fell back into the wicker chair with a thump.
Kerry was giving the ambulance service the house number.