02 Blue Murder (27 page)

Kate exchanged glances with Bhar. He looked
equally blank. “Why?”

Tessa regarded Kate silently for several
seconds. It was the sort of appraisal only one woman could give
another—usually in the presence of a man who completes the
triangle. Just when Kate expected Tessa to demand what place she,
Kate, occupied in Bhar’s life, Tessa chose to reply.

“
When Duncan was seventeen,
he read an article about a primitive tribe in New Guinea or
somewhere, I don’t know, that ritually slaughtered captive enemies
and bathed in their blood. Duncan adored the idea. Left the country
to get away from it, from the temptation of doing it to people who
… hurt him. Went to do charity work for a wild animal rescue group
and ended up giving in to the temptation. Bathing in
blood.”

“
Animal blood?” Bhar asked.
But Kate knew the answer before Tessa spoke.

“
No, never,” Tessa said. “He
loves animals, especially elephants, lions and great apes. They’re
like he is.”

“
He told me he killed some
poachers,” Kate said.

“
You
spoke to Duncan?” Tessa’s voice
rose. “When? Did he mention me?”

“
Tessa,” the ward sister
said repressively.

Kate looked at Bhar. That careful smile was
now frozen on his face. His hands were clenched in his lap.

Tessa closed her eyes. After several
seconds, she opened them again, bringing the cigarette back to her
lips. “Dr. Feingold says I can never have contact with Duncan
again.” She uttered a small laugh. “I’m not even supposed to talk
about him anymore, except in therapy. I’m surprised I’m permitted
to discuss him with you. Don’t you have computers and police
profilers to help you?”

“
We needed to establish your
whereabouts,” Kate reminded her. “Beyond that, a guest at the party
where the murders occurred has become a prime suspect. Your
half-sister, Kyla Sloane.”

The moment the words were out, Kate
regretted lapsing into the “gotcha” style of dropping key
information she frequently employed with suspects. Tessa looked
like she’d been slapped.

“
Jesus.” Tessa ground out
the cigarette with sudden violence. “Jesus, Jesus.”

“
Does Kyla know Sir Duncan
well?” Bhar asked. “Do they have some sort of relationship? We know
he’s always had lots of young friends. Followers, really
...”

“
You mean like me.” For the
first time Tessa stared directly into Bhar’s eyes.

“
Yes.”

“
Kyla was just fourteen when
Duncan went on trial. She was fascinated by him, and I’m sure she
would have done anything he asked. Just like me,” Tessa admitted,
gaze locked with Bhar’s. “Help him plan. Buy his supplies. Even act
as lookout while he … took a bath. Duncan didn’t have time for Kyla
back then. She was too young. Now … now I suppose she might be
enough of a person to finally interest him.” Tessa uttered those
last words as if they caused her physical pain.

“
Do you think Sir Duncan has
taken your little sister under his wing? Does he require his
closest friends to prove themselves by personally committing a
murder?” Kate wondered if she had hit on a solid motive at long
last. “Is that what he did to you, Ms. Chilcott?”

“
Of course not. Duncan never
asked me to kill anyone. I did it on my own.” Tessa looked
mournfully at the remains of her cigarette, smashed far beyond
relighting. “Only once did he ever ask me to do something I didn’t
want to do. I hated it. It was nothing like I thought, and it hurt
like the devil.” Tessa stared into Bhar’s face. “But yes, Deepal.
Because Duncan asked me to, I did it, all the same.”

The emotion in Bhar’s dark eyes was
alarming. Hastily, Kate tossed out the only other question on her
mind. “During your unsupervised home visit, what did you talk
about? You and Kyla, I mean?”

“
Duncan.” Tessa’s voice went
flat again. “She asked me if he was guilty. Poor little thing. I
said no, of course not. Assured her it was all a
mistake.”

“
Right.” Kate shot another
look at Bhar. He seemed incapable of speech, so she continued for
both of them. “You do realize you may have pushed your little
sister into his arms? Given her an excuse to trust him at her worst
possible moment?”

Tessa didn’t seem to hear that. “Can I have
another fag?”

Kate passed one over. After the ward sister
lit the cigarette, Tessa said, “There’s a lady here with a
condition, I forget what it’s called. Sometimes she wakes in the
night and starts screaming that there’s a stranger in bed with her.
But it’s not a stranger. It’s the left side of her own body. Except
she doesn’t recognize it anymore. It’s no use trying to reason with
her. If you point to her left side in a mirror and say it’s
connected to her right side, she just says no. She thinks there’s a
stranger grafted onto her, and she wants free of that stranger more
than anything. The docs can’t make her accept her left side. All
they can do is quiet her down. That’s how it is with me.” Tessa
released a lungful of smoke. “I wake up in the night and think, no,
this isn’t me, this isn’t my life. When I look in the mirror, all I
can say is no, no, no. I want peace from it, from the stranger
grafted onto my soul. But in a place like this … peace isn’t an
option.”

“
Tessa.” The ward sister
stood up. “I’ve taken note of that statement. You know I have to
report all types of suicidal ideation.”

“
Of course. Which is why
I’ll not be allowed belts or steak knives anytime soon. Are you
finished with me, detectives?” Tessa asked.

Bhar seemed unable to answer, so Kate spoke
up. “For now. But did I understand the point of your story? Kyla
doesn’t matter? Just you?”

Tessa shrugged again. “My sister came to me
for reassurance. I gave it to her. If she used that reassurance to
do something foolish, well … things are tough all over. Deepal,”
she said as Kate and Bhar rose to leave. “Would you do one more
thing for me?”

He cleared his throat, offering her a
perfectly believable smile. “Of course.”

“
Next time, don’t come. Send
somebody else.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

D
etective Sergeant Kate Wakefield was disappointed by Detective
Sergeant Bhar’s refusal of a drink. He didn’t seem to want
anything—not alcohol, not darts and pig snacks in some raucous pub,
not even to return to the Yard to check and see if any new case
details had broken.

“
Need to pop round Tesco.
Get my mum some more ice cream. She’s gutted over her
books.”

“
Bad reviews?”

“
Something like that.” Bhar
kept his hands at ten and two and his eyes on the road.

“
You know, I’ve always
wanted to meet your mum. See the woman behind the man. I mean,
someday you’ll be a man,” Kate said casually. It was the sort of
comment usually guaranteed to spark a volley of insults and
one-upmanship. Bhar didn’t seem to hear.

“
Or you can just drop me at
the guv’s.” Sighing, Kate plucked a long, golden hair from her
disobedient mane, tossing it on the dashboard within Bhar’s line of
vision.

“
I’ll do that.” Bhar’s gaze
remained trained straight ahead.

“
Paul. Can I tell you
something?”

Bhar made a noncommittal sound.

“
My mum was a piece of work.
My sister—well, you saw. She’s not well. I’ve never known her when
she wasn’t like that. An emotional vampire. If I ever allow it,
she’d drain me dry. But you know what my secret weapon
is?”

His eyes flicked toward her, then back on
the road again.

“
Selfishness. Parts of my
life are only for me. As long as I hang on to my selfish side,
Maura can’t destroy me. If I ever decided helping her was more
important than helping me—or Henry, or Ritchie—I’d be lost. Maura
would chew me up and spit me out, just like everyone else who’s
ever gotten close to her.”

“
You don’t have to worry
about me.” Bhar sounded brusque, even a little insulted. “You don’t
see me sobbing my heart out over here, do you? Only fools cry over
betrayal.”

Kate started to reply, then thought better
of it. The irrepressible jokester she knew was gone, replaced by a
stiff-necked stranger. They traveled the rest of the way back to
Wellegrave House in silence.

Steering his Astra up Hetheridge’s long,
gravel drive, Bhar parked as close to the entrance as possible.
Just as Kate was about to disembark, he touched her arm.

“
Hey. Kate.”

Door already open, she looked over her
shoulder at him.

“
Be careful.”

“
You mean—with
Tony?”

“
In general. I’ve …” He
broke off, smiling a little. “I’ve gotten used to you.”

“
Oh.” Kate took a deep
breath. “You, too. Watch yourself. Because just between you and
me—the next person to muck with you is in for a royal
ass-kicking.”

“
Just hope I’m conscious to
see it.” For the first time, Bhar seemed to notice the blond hair
on his dashboard. Seizing it between thumb and forefinger, he
tossed it at Kate. “Tomorrow I plan on interviewing Kyla first,
then Molly French. You in?”

“
Of course.” Kate waved at
the Astra as Bhar sped away. He hadn’t been warning her against
Hetheridge, she decided. Just wishing her safe in general. And if
that wasn’t the very essence of every copper’s prayers, what
was?

***

“
O
h. I hate to say it. But I need to
get home soon,” Kate sighed. She enjoyed the feel of Hetheridge’s
arms around her. As she’d noted long before their first coupling,
he was surprisingly well-muscled and broad through the chest,
making this sort of embrace particularly satisfying. It was unusual
for her to feel so relaxed, so tempted to stay the night.
Apparently what older men lacked in repeat engagements, they made
up for in stamina and skill.

“
I know. Should you ring
Henry and Ritchie? Make an excuse?”

“
Unless I get up and dressed
in the next ten minutes,” Kate said, pressing her cheek against his
light mat of chest hair. “Ritchie’s carer is there, so it’s not
like they’re home alone. But they worry. Well—Henry worries.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers Maura abandoning
him. He was only four years old, and alone for two days before the
neighbors found him. He says he doesn’t remember, but I’m dead
certain he does.”

Hetheridge’s hand stroked the back of her
neck. “I’ve been thinking you might adopt him one day.”

“
Maura won’t allow it. She
hasn’t lost all parental rights. Today she even claimed she’s close
to release. I need to check with her doctors, but with my luck,
it’s true,” Kate sighed. “Unofficial is better.”

“
Not better for
Henry.”

Kate lifted herself. The bedside lamp’s soft
illumination was sufficient for her to see his face. “Oi. Guilt
trip? Really? For that, I let you lure me into your bed?”

Hetheridge chuckled. “Henry is a very
traditional young man. An old soul. He wants to belong somewhere.
That’s why visits with Maura send him crying. He wants you for a
mum. And the assurance only a legal bond can create.”

“
For a man with no children,
you have very particular views about childrearing,” Kate said
tartly, then remembered. “Oh. Sorry. I keep forgetting about
Jules.”

“
I know. So do I. I need to
do something about that,” Hetheridge sighed. “In her case, I have
no notion where to start. Henry is far easier. He’s a good lad. A
smart lad.”

“
But still a target for
bullies. Now that I know you advised him to fight, I keep waiting
for that phone call. The one where I get told what a rubbish
guardian I am.”

“
I was bullied at school,”
Hetheridge said. “Quite viciously, as a matter of fact. And that
was a very different time, when professors felt it was their duty
to ignore such harassment and let only the strong survive. Being
bullied as a youngster is no measure of future happiness or
success. Henry will do just fine. You’ll see.”

“
I think he will,” Kate
said, sliding up for a long, warm kiss. She adored the way
Hetheridge moved his mouth, the way he cupped her face between his
hands as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever held between
them.

“
Do you think …” she began,
breaking away, and was suddenly afraid to continue.

“
Think what?”

“
Think you could be Henry’s
godfather? Officially, I mean? That would give him a bit of
stability.”

“
Well. A godfather’s role,
outside of the American Mafia, is to instruct a child in matters of
religion.” Hetheridge cleared his throat. “I fear I’m not religious
at all. Belief in a benign creator is largely incompatible with
police work. Particularly if you specialize in murder.”

“
I know what a godfather
is,” Kate lied, embarrassed that she could have lived so long
without truly understanding the term. “I just meant—a mentor, but
with a more official name. Someone Henry could count on. Someone
dedicated to helping him become a man.”

“
I think you mean a
stepfather,” Hetheridge said.

Kate sat up. Straddling his chest, she let
him take her in, enjoying the feel of his gaze upon her. Hetheridge
used his eyes like he used his mouth, caressing her so thoroughly,
she felt like an almost perfect female specimen. “Tony. If I’m not
marrying you, I’m not marrying anyone. So a stepfather for Henry is
off the table.”