‘… Like you … like everyone …’ He used his free hand to point at his thick, milky eyes. ‘… He looked like a blur …’ I peeled his hand off me and followed Sutty out on to the street, crossing through traffic towards him. He was leaning on the roof of the car, watching me.
‘That guy on the ground floor says the police took her …’ I said.
‘The blind bloke? He probably posts his letters into the dog-shit bin, Aid.’ He exhaled out some malice. ‘Police are unlikely from the busted door and the blood. Your generation haven’t got that kind of get-up-and-go. What’s she look like?’
‘In her twenties, according to Marcus. A redhead. Slagged up …’
‘Oh,’ said Sutty, looking about us at all the girls matching the security guard’s description. ‘We’ll have her in custody in five minutes, then.’
I climbed into the car and called in the crime scene, requesting SOCO meet us there. Sutty got in beside me, opened the glove compartment, found his wipes and cleaned down the radio I’d just touched. My phone started to vibrate.
Aneesa.
I thought she might be calling on behalf of Natasha Reeve and Freddie Coyle. Neither had given a straightforward account of themselves and, as a rule, money equalled trouble. As per Parrs’ instructions, I still hadn’t told Sutty about these interviews. Pathetically, I was still hoping to get back in the Superintendent’s good books. I got out of the car and moved to a safe distance before answering.
‘Waits,’ I said, impatiently.
‘I really wish you’d kept me updated about events at the Palace,’ said Aneesa. ‘Specifically the dead body. My clients have both been on the phone, asking why they were blindsided. If I’d known about the man, and that you were putting those kinds of questions to them, I’d have been present.’
‘Well, now’s your chance. I’d like to follow up with Natasha, if possible.’ She didn’t say anything. ‘Ms Khan?’
She sighed. ‘When?
I looked back at the car. Sutty was standing outside it, wiping down the door handle I’d just touched. ‘What are you doing right now?’
7
I told Sutty that I’d been dragged away by a development on the dustbin fires, left him waiting for SOCO, and made the ten-minute walk back in the direction of Natasha Reeve’s flat. Aneesa met me there.
‘Thank you for seeing me again at such short notice,’ I said. Natasha Reeve acknowledged both Aneesa and me with a blink then went towards an unoccupied bench, sitting down as though our walk round the block one day before had worn her out. We were back on King Street but she still wasn’t ready to invite me into her home.
Aneesa sat down beside her. ‘Thanks for doing this,’ she said. I sat on Natasha’s other side, putting her in the middle. They both stared at me and Aneesa went on. ‘Apparently, Detective Constable Waits has some follow-up questions. He’s assured me he’ll be brief.’
‘I really just wanted to clarify some things about the Palace.’
Natasha waited.
‘When we spoke before, you told me that you and your ex-husband built up the hotel between you.’
‘Yes?’
‘Mr Coyle claims it was inherited from his side of the family …’
She smiled, as though at some old adversary. ‘Semantics. His family owned the property but it had stood empty for some years when it came to us. I won’t deny that inheriting a building of that size and stature was an enormous help, but it’s the truth that Freddie and I built the business. It’s also the truth that I was a larger part of the partnership than he.’
‘That must have been frustrating.’
‘Less so than seeing him flounder in business …’
‘He doesn’t have a head for it?’
‘That was one of his tired old jokes. He said a brain was useful but it was his fingers that he really counted on.’ I smiled. ‘Unfortunately he was still counting on them when we inherited the Palace,’ she said. ‘I was only too pleased to assume the lead role.’
‘He mentioned some tension with his family. Were they disappointed in his lack of business ambition?’
‘I don’t think they ever expected much. His parents had an unhappy marriage. On our wedding day, Gloria, Freddie’s mother, took me to one side and gave me some advice: “Always expect the worst from them and you’ll never be disappointed.”’
‘Are his parents still alive?’
‘Well, we inherited all their money and property, so what does that tell you?’
‘I don’t have much experience in that area,’ I said.
She ignored the provocation. ‘They went one after another, soon after we were married.’
‘Money and property,’ I said. ‘There was more to the inheritance than the Palace?’
‘There was at first. Freddie made some bad deals. Counting on his fingers for business again.’
‘So if he mentioned tensions with his family …’
‘He was either living in the past or being glib. I’m all that’s left of his family now, so I suppose he could have been referring to me.’
‘Could Freddie’s bad head for business, combined with his separation from you, have left him hard up?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘We both draw a handsome salary from the trust …’
‘The Palace has been closed for some time.’
‘Only out of stubbornness from both sides.’ Aneesa started to interject but Natasha waved her protest away. ‘It’s true. Freddie never cared for the business but I did. It was our baby, as far as I was concerned. But once we were dead and buried, so was the hotel. I let the staff go and stopped going to work mainly as a challenge, to see if he was capable of doing anything about it. If he had any sense at all he’d hire a new manager. He doesn’t, though. Now, I see it as my little gift to myself, not earning him any more money.’ She looked at me again. ‘We could both retire today, though, Detective. Freddie saying he’s hard up is, well, a bit rich.’
‘How does the trust work?’
‘Like a business. Money goes into a pot from the Palace and leaves for expenses. Those expenses might be upkeep, legal fees, salaries, etcetera. Neither Freddie or I can draw any more than the agreed amount, though.’
‘You’re certain of that?’
‘When you’re preparing for a divorce you tend to check these things. It’s iron-clad, I’m absolutely certain. Of course his half of the pot will be his to spend once we’ve dissolved the trust. A great deal more than his monthly allowance. Why all this talk of Freddie’s finances?’
‘When I told him about the assault, and even about the death, his first concerns were liability and how it might affect the sale. He seemed unusually keen on that side of things for a man with no head for business …’
‘The Palace is his last tie to me. That’s what he’s keen to get rid of.’
‘May I ask what specifically caused your separation?’
She shook her head. ‘And besides, what can that have to do with a break-in?’
I thought for a second and then tried another tack. ‘Was Freddie always a big drinker?’
‘I was the drinker. He never quite had the constitution for it. A glass of wine here or there.’
‘When I spoke to Mr Coyle at 10 a.m. yesterday it looked like he was ending a long night …’
‘Freddie changed so much towards the end of our relationship, I suppose he could be anything now.’
‘Changed how, Ms Reeve?’
‘Well, at the time I thought there was something wrong. With him, I mean. He became cold, distant. I see now he was preparing to leave our marriage. He changed more in the weeks before we parted than in the preceding ten years. I can’t say how much he’s changed since.’
‘Do you think he could have changed enough to be involved in whatever’s happening at the Palace?’
‘It’s a ridiculous question. Freddie’s only motivation in life is to sell the Palace. He may be a fool for business but he doesn’t usually throw things away.’ In the silence that followed I saw her wonder why that logic hadn’t applied to their marriage.
‘What happened six months ago?’
‘You have to keep banging away, don’t you? Is this how you get your kicks? Burrowing into the lives of strangers?’