‘How do you mean?’
‘No doubt he’d have suggested we cut the child in half, too.’ She heard herself and stopped walking, looking at me for the first time as she did. ‘You must understand that I don’t believe every wrong visited on me in the past is a prophecy of my future. Occasionally the cards simply fall that way. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be selling the Palace at all. I’m afraid the subject can colour my conversation.’ She resumed walking. ‘What does this have to do with a break-in?’
‘As I said, it’s slightly more complicated than a break-in.’
‘So you keep saying,’ she said, walking on.
‘The security guard, Mr Nasser, was assaulted.’
‘Ms Khan said as much. I take it he’ll recover?’
‘It looks like it.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, he’s a reliable man. Of course, his job will remain open should he still want it, and we can be flexible about working hours should it assist his recovery or your investigation. Anything else you need can be handled through Ms Khan or, as of next week, the returning Mr Blick.’
‘I was also hoping to speak to Mr Coyle.’
‘Of course you were,’ she said quietly.
‘Have you spoken to your husband this morning?’ I had a wild idea that Frederick Coyle could be our unidentified dead man. It sounded like Natasha Reeve’s life would be a lot simpler if she was the Palace Hotel’s sole owner.
‘Ms Khan copied us both into an email, to apprise us of last night’s events. He didn’t seem too interested.’
‘But he did reply?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m afraid that Ms Khan might not have been fully up to speed. Last night when we responded to the intruder alarm at her behest, we discovered your security guard, Mr Nasser, unconscious on the third floor. He’d suffered a blow to the back of the head.’ I risked a look at Natasha but her face remained implacable. ‘Upon a closer search of the premises a dead body was discovered in a room on the fourth floor. We’re treating the death as suspicious.’
‘I see,’ she squinted. ‘You don’t think that Mr Nasser …’
‘No. It looks like he disturbed them. He says he heard raised voices just before he began his midnight patrol. Two people arguing …’
She smiled thinly. It looked like a crack of light under a door. ‘And you’re wondering if it might have been Freddie and me?’
‘Mr Nasser was investigating the voices when he was attacked,’ I said, side-stepping the question. ‘It would be helpful to know if there’ve been any other break-ins while the Palace has been closed.’
‘None that I know of.’
‘Any suspicious activity at all?’
She shook her head. ‘Although I suggest you speak to Ms Khan. I’ve intentionally made myself absent for much of the Palace’s closure and I’m sure she and Mr Blick have more insight into its day-to-day operations.’
‘There’s been nothing in the negotiations for sale that gives you any pause or concern?’
‘Perhaps if there were more robust interest, but for the moment we’re merely making eyes at one another. Could this affect a potential sale?’
‘I can’t think why. We’ll need access to the crime scene for the next couple of days, but aside from that …’ She nodded. Gratefully, I thought. I could see why sharing a business with your ex might make things difficult. ‘Which brings me to my final question,’ I said. ‘You suggested the image of you and your husband being the two people that Mr Nasser heard arguing. Can you account for your whereabouts last night?’
‘Happily,’ she said. ‘I was at home, alone.’
‘Here in town?’
‘I keep a flat on King Street.’ We’d walked a circuit of the block and she nodded towards the street sign.
‘Can I ask how you spent the evening?’
‘Reading.’
‘Reading what?’
‘Poetry.’ She said it like the only kind of book there was. ‘Is that all, Detective Constable?’
‘You don’t seem particularly worried about not providing an alibi …’
‘I have nothing to hide and, besides, you still have Freddie to talk to. He’ll prove that the two of us weren’t arguing in the Palace.’ When I gave her a questioning look she went on. ‘Well, I’ve no doubt he was curled up with something a little warmer than a good book.’
6
Natasha and I said our goodbyes and, after checking Frederick Coyle’s schedule, Aneesa told me I might not be able to speak to him until the following day. I was still thinking of my interview with Ali when I arrived back at the Palace. I walked past the baleful stare of the officer stationed on the door and into the lobby. The daylight beaming through the glass ceiling and on to marble surfaces made the enormous room glow, transforming it from the sinister setting of last night’s action into somewhere calm and meditative. As I crossed the room, another uniformed officer stepped in to meet me.
‘Detective Constable Waits,’ he said, drily. ‘Can I ask what your business is here?’
‘Good morning. As you know, I’m investigating the suspicious death of our man on the fourth floor.’
‘And is there something I can assist you with?’
‘Have the premises been searched yet?’
‘Detective Inspector Sutcliffe set the primary scene boundary as room 413. It’s been searched.’
‘What about the rest of the building? The other rooms have all been unlocked?’
‘They have. The building’s been secured.’
‘Searched,’ I repeated. ‘Has it been searched?’
‘What are you expecting to find?’
‘That isn’t really how it works,’ I said, walking past him towards the staircase.
‘Hey.’ He was following me. ‘You can’t just wander round.’
‘I know, but let’s pretend we’re police officers.’
‘Karen Stromer was very clear that you weren’t to be admitted to the fourth floor without authorization.’
‘That’s fine, we’re only going to the third.’ We reached the staircase and began the long climb up. The officer kept pace, breathing loudly through his nose, trying not to give away how out of breath he was. By the time we reached the landing I thought he might pass out. Without pausing I walked straight down the first corridor and began searching rooms. Ali had mentioned the dustbins on this floor in relation to the daytime security guard, Marcus Collier. I went directly to them. Each suite had a dustbin in the main room and one in the bathroom. The first few searches yielded no results.
Room 305 was different.
Where the other beds had been completely unmade, this one had a loose sheet thrown over it. I checked the dustbin in the main room and then paced around, got down on the floor and shone my torch under the bed.
Nothing.
The officer watched me from the door. The bathroom was completely plain. I didn’t want to touch the light switch, so I went by torch beam. I put my foot on the pedal of the dustbin and it flipped open. Something gleamed in the light. A torn piece of silver packaging, about one inch by one inch. I crouched down, took a clear plastic bag from my pocket and picked it up. The bright pink font on the front said: Lifestyle. I left the room and the officer followed me out into the corridor.
‘Call SOCO,’ I told him. ‘We need a fingertip search of this room with particular focus on the bed.’
‘Looking for what?’
I was losing my patience with him. ‘Evidence of sexual activity. Hair, skin flakes, DNA. You don’t know what you’re looking for until you find it, but not looking at all’s just sloppy work. And speaking of sloppy work, this should be tested for all of the above.’ I handed him the plastic bag I was holding and he did a double take at its contents.
‘Is that a condom?’
‘Only the wrapper. Don’t get any ideas.’
I winked at him and left.
On my way out of the building I spoke to the officer on the door. He’d been stationed there since we discovered the body, and I asked if Marcus Collier had shown up for work that morning. He said that, aside from me and some Scene of Crime Officers, no one had approached the building. I thanked him and left. He looked relieved to see me go.
7