Chimera (11 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Trixie Arlen’s funeral took place the next day. The weather was suitably funereal; the sky was blanketed with dark grey clouds, and a chill wind whipped the coats and scarves of the mourners as they arrived at the church. The little village of Marshfield, three miles from the farmhouse where Trixie Arlen had died, had never seen so many people. The black limousines of the funeral procession moved slowly through the thronged streets. Cameras and mobile phones were raised high above the heads of the crowds, filming the hearse as it drove by. Paparazzi were clustered around the lych-gate to the church, ready to snap anyone who passed through it.

Kate, who’d driven down alone, had to park almost in the next village and walk a mile before she could get close to the church. She was dressed in her black suit and carried another bunch of white roses, just as she had to the funeral of John Miller. What a contrast to this that had been. There must have been three hundred people actually attending the service, not to mention the crowds waiting impatiently outside the church. Kate regarded herself in the rear view mirror for a long moment and then took a pair of dark glasses from her handbag. There was no way she could walk into a church with eyes as red-raw as hers were, even if this was a funeral.

She locked the car and began the long walk to the churchyard, clutching her bouquet. There was an ache in her chest, a physical pain that made her stop once in a while and press her hand against her breastbone.
My heart is actually broken. I’ve lost my best friend, I’ve lost Anderton, and I’ve failed my exams
. Kate stopped for a moment to catch her breath. For a second she felt dizzy and didn’t think she could walk another step without falling over. All she wanted to do was go home, hide under the duvet and never leave again; just moulder away beneath the bedclothes until all the pain was gone.

The church was so crowded there was no possibility of getting a seat. Kate propped herself against a chilly stone wall at the back. She was glad that she was wearing a pair of flat shoes, insomuch that she was capable of feeling glad about anything. The coffin was one of those fancy painted jobs, garlanded with roses and strewn with lavender; Kate could smell it even at the back of the church. She found herself wondering what it had cost. All that money for a box that was going to be buried in the ground. Put me in a cardboard box when the time comes, she thought bleakly. Who would come to her funeral? Her brother and sisters, perhaps. They were about the only people in her life she hadn’t managed to alienate.

The voice of the vicar droned on.
Eternal life
… the way Kate was feeling, that would be a punishment, not a blessing. She tried to switch her thoughts, tried to find something positive to think about but could think of nothing. To her horror, she felt tears begin to well up again, and she blinked frantically, trying to stop them and realised she couldn’t. She felt in her handbag for a tissue. At least at a funeral you didn’t need a reason for crying. Restrained sobs and whimpers rose from the packed church. How many of these people had actually known Trixie?

After what felt like several years, the service came to an end. As Kate was near the entrance she was able to leave the church before the masses. She walked over to the churchyard wall, unsure of whether she should wait. She’d caught sight of Olbeck as she arrived and felt a lurch of nausea. The furious anger she’d felt last night had dissipated, just as she needed it. Now all she felt was shame. Olbeck had given her what was probably the happiest news of his life last night and what had she done? Screamed and shouted and abused him.
You’re a monster, Kate
. And poor Jeff, as well. They would probably never speak to her again, and who could blame them? All because she had never got over what had happened to her in her teens? Wasn’t it time that she did? Wasn’t it time she actually grew up and acted like an adult?
You’re thirty-one, Kate. Act your bloody age, for once
.

Kate came back to reality with a start. She’d been reprimanding herself in the privacy of her own head for so long that it was quite a shock to realise that most of the mourners had already departed. She could see Jacob Arlen over by the entrance to the church, talking to a tall bald man. Kate looked at the man curiously. He looked vaguely familiar. Was he a celebrity? There had been several at the funeral, gawped at and gossiped about in whispered tones: several television presenters, an actress, a model. Where had she seen him? Kate pondered it a moment longer and then dismissed the bald man from her mind. She had enough to worry about.

She was dreading bumping into Olbeck but he’d clearly already left. He must have seen her standing over by the wall – the way the churchyard was laid out, there was no way of missing her – but he hadn’t come over to talk to her. Despite understanding why, Kate felt her heart sink even further. I have to talk to him, I have to apologise, she told herself, and she even got out her phone and brought up his number before putting it away. Not yet. She didn’t even know what to say.

Kate looked around for another of her colleagues but couldn’t see anyone, not even Theo. She sighed and pushed herself away from the churchyard wall. A long walk back to her car and then a lonely journey back to Abbeyford. Sooner or later, she was going to have to face the reality of work. She was going to face Olbeck – and Anderton.
God
. Kate sighed again and pushed her hands into the pockets of her suit. She began to walk back to her car, head bowed against the spitting rain.

Chapter Fourteen

“Want to hear something interesting?”

“What’s that?” Kate had to fight to sound interested. Theo didn’t appear to notice her lack of enthusiasm. He was leaning forward over this desk, his dark eyes bright.

“You know that hotel that Arlen was staying in the night of Trixie’s death?”

“Do I?”

“You should do. The Granchester. He stays there a lot apparently, the desk clerks all know him.”

“Right,” said Kate, wondering if there was a point to this.

“
Well
, apparently that night the night porter saw him leave the hotel. About eleven pm.”

That got Kate’s attention. She sat up a little. “Right,” she said again, but more alertly.

Theo’s eyes were sparkling. “So, if the night porter’s telling the truth – and I can’t see why he would lie – then—”

Kate finished the sentence for him. “Then that’s Arlen’s alibi smashed to pieces.”

“Exactly.” Theo sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What if he drove back to his place that night, persuaded his wife to OD – or did it for her – and then pretended to find her first thing in the morning?”

“Yes,” said Kate slowly, thinking. “It’s possible. But why?”

Theo waved a hand airily. “Oh, motives, motives. I’m not going to worry my head about
why
at the moment. I just want to know if that’s how it actually happened.”

Kate leapt up. “You’re absolutely right, Theo. Let’s go, shall we?”

“Hold on a sec. We just need to run it past Mark first.”

Kate’s stomach clenched. She’d successfully avoided Olbeck all morning, burying her head in paperwork whenever he walked past her desk, refusing to catch his eye when she could feel him staring at her through the glass wall of his office. She wondered whether it was obvious to anyone else that they weren’t speaking. During her entire conversation with
Theo, a small part of her had been quite impressed that she’d sounded so normal, considering most of her still felt that death would be quite an attractive alternative to carrying on living.

“You do that,” she said hastily. “I’m going to get my coat.”

They walked past Anderton’s office on the way to the car park but this time, the blinds were closed. Kate wondered whether he was in there with his new woman again. She felt a twist of jealous paranoia and told herself to get a grip. Any more of that and you’ll literally go mad, she told herself. Keep a lid on it.

As they waited to join the main road – traffic was always heavy at this point in the morning – Kate let her gaze drift to the newspaper vendor stand on the pavement. The new edition of the Abbeyford Gazette had been published and the large photograph on the front page made Kate gasp.

“Stop! Stop for a minute, Theo?”

“What?” Theo asked, confused.

“Hold on a second.” Kate hopped out of the car and ran over to the stand. She bought a paper and brought it back.

“What
are
you doing?” Theo asked.

Kate stabbed a finger at the picture on the front page. “This guy, I knew I knew him. He was at Trixie Arlen’s funeral.”

Theo looked. “Michael Dekker. Of course you know him. He’s about the richest guy in Abbeyford.”

Kate was reading the article attached to the photograph. “He’s just made a big donation to Outreach. You know, the drug and alcohol charity.” She read a few more sentences. “Why would he be at Trixie Arlen’s funeral?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “’Cos his son used to go out with her, didn’t he? The musician guy. What was his name?”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Theo put the car into gear and they finally drove off. “James Gantry!” he shouted triumphantly before they’d gone fifteen yards.

“Oh,
him
,” said Kate. “I didn’t know that was Michael Dekker’s son. Whatever happened to him?”

“He died.”

“Seriously? What of?”

“Drugs overdose.”

Kate snorted, unsympathetically. “God, how original. Is there a single musician who’s managed to off himself or herself in a totally new and thought provoking way?”

Theo didn’t dignify that with an answer and Kate, a little ashamed of herself, didn’t say anything else for a while.

“Actually,” she said after a few minutes of silence. “I might give Michael Dekker a call. It would be useful to talk to someone who knew Trixie Arlen back in the nineties.”

“Would it?” asked Theo. Then he cursed and sounded the horn at a black BMW who had cut him up.

“Careful,” said Kate. “Yes, I think it would.” She hesitated and said “I can’t help feeling that Trixie’s past is important. I don’t know why but…that’s what I think.”

“Knock yourself out,” said Theo.

They finally cleared the clogged streets of Abbeyford and headed towards the motorway. Kate kept checking her phone, thinking she might see a text from Olbeck. Stupid, she told herself, putting it away for the umpteenth time. He’s not going to contact me. She closed her eyes briefly, that overwhelming rush of misery engulfing her again. I have to say sorry, she thought. He has to forgive me, because if he doesn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

For once, Theo wasn’t playing hip-hop or garage at ear-bleeding levels on the car stereo. Instead, there was quite a serious talk show playing quietly in the background. Kate listened with half an ear to the presenter and guest talking about the upcoming films due to be released that month. She and Olbeck used to go to the cinema together quite frequently. God, this was ridiculous, everything reminded her of her friend. This is worse than a relationship breaking down, Kate thought.

“You’re quiet today,” Theo said as they joined the M4, and Kate started guiltily.

“Just got a lot on my mind.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Who is he?”

Kate half laughed. “There are other things in the world that cause trouble other than sex, Theo. Did you know that?”

“There are?” Theo asked, in mock-shock.

Kate rolled her eyes but she also smiled. After a moment, she pulled her mind back onto the job. “Does Arlen know we’re coming?”

“Nope.”

“Good,” said Kate. “Let’s scare him a little.”

Theo nodded. “I had the CCTV checked that night at The Granchester. The clerk wasn’t lying. Arlen did leave, late. You can clearly see him driving away and he doesn’t come back.”

“Really? That’s excellent, Theo.” Kate felt another unpleasant emotion, this time annoyance at herself for not having the idea first. I’ve to get a grip, she admonished herself privately. My career is all I’ve got left. Aloud, she asked “It would be worth pulling any CCTV around the Arlen’s farmhouse the night of Trixie’s death, wouldn’t it? If there is any. Rural places often don’t have many cameras.”

“Yep,” said Theo, moving into the fast lane to overtake a truck. “We’ll do that when we get back.”

“Are we going to tell Arlen that we’ve got him leaving The Granchester on camera?”

“Let’s see,” said Theo. “Let’s see what he comes up with before we hit him with the evidence.”

They made good time until they reached Putney, where they hit the first of the traffic jams extending from Putney Bridge. Forty minutes later, when the car had advanced all of thirty feet, Kate wondered whether she should suggest abandoning the car and taking the underground.

Eventually they made progress again. Kate watched the glittering surface of the Thames as they drove across the bridge. London had never appealed to her as a place of work or as a place to live. Fine for a visit, but it was too big, too busy; the ancient city took no prisoners. She thought with longing for a moment of the old houses of Abbeyford, the rolling green hills that surrounded the town, the familiar faces that she saw every day. No, she wouldn’t want to swap that, not for all the culture, clubs, bars and shops in the world.

Arlen’s office on Cheapside was indistinguishable from all the other city offices and financial institutions. Huge walls of plate glass, carefully tinted so visibility from the street was minimal, tight security once you were past the glossy girls of the reception desk. An atrium with a jungle of equally glossy plants, and glass lifts scudding up and down to the many different floors.

Kate watched Arlen’s face closely as she and Theo approached. He stared at them as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, but she couldn’t work out if he was apprehensive that they had come to arrest him or just bracing himself for the anguish of more revelations connected to his wife’s death.

“Good morning, Mr. Arlen,” Theo said, as Kate shut the door of his office behind them.

“Good morning, officers,” replied Arlen stonily. “What can I do for you?”

“I can see you’re surprised to see us,” Kate said, sitting down opposite him. Theo took the other chair.

“I must confess I am.”

Kate and Theo exchanged glances. “Perhaps you’d like to confess to something else as well?” suggested Theo. Kate hid a wince. A bit too obvious, too quickly, surely…

Arlen’s frown grew deeper. “I afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kate jumped in before Theo could say anything else. “In your statement concerning the night on which your wife died, you stated that you’d stayed the night in The Granchester Hotel on Westbury Street, EC1, and left very early the next morning in order to drive home.”

“Yes,” said Arlen, clearly realising that Kate hadn’t yet finished but just as clearly wanting to say something. “That’s ri—”

“You don’t wish to amend that statement at all?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you wish to amend your statement at all?”

Arlen risked a strained smile. “No. No I don’t believe so.”

There was a moment’s silence. Kate hung back, happy to let Theo deliver the blow. He didn’t disappoint.

“We have a credible eyewitness, and CCTV footage, that shows you leaving The Granchester and driving from their car park at about eleven pm that evening. Not five-thirty am the following morning, as you said in your statement.”

Arlen said nothing. His face remained impassive, but the colour slowly mounted until his entire face turned a dull brick red.

“Do you have anything to say, Mr. Arlen?” Kate asked after a moment.

There was another long silence, and then Arlen spoke in a low voice. “I’m not saying anything until I can speak to my lawyer.”

Kate and Theo looked at one another again. Kate was heartened to find that they had shared a flash of unspoken understanding, just as she used to have with Olbeck. The following jab of pain caught her unawares and she broke eye contact.

“We’ll continue this conversation down at Abbeyford Station then, sir,” said Theo, getting up.

Arlen remained seated. “Is that an order, officer?”

Theo smiled a deceptively charming smile. “No, it’s a request. If you refuse that request, however, we will arrest you. Understood?”

Kate saw Arlen’s throat ripple as he swallowed. She watched his gaze go to the open plan space beyond his office, the multitude of desks staffed by his underlings and colleagues already casting curious glances over at them. A small sadistic part of her was hoping he would refuse. She would love to slap some cuffs on him and parade him through the goggling crowd of finance workers.

It was not to be, however. Arlen, whatever else he may be, was clearly not stupid. He nodded abruptly and got up without a further word. The three of them walked back across a silent floor but even as the door closed behind them, as they waited for the lift, Kate could hear the whispers begin to start, rising in a slow hissing wave of muted sound.