Evil in Return (27 page)

‘I wouldn’t mind getting something to eat first. I’m hungry and the food here looks really good.’

‘Sure. I’ll order. What do you fancy?’

She glanced over at the board on the wall, trying to decide. ‘Umm, I think I’ll have the spiced aubergine tagine, with a side salad.’

‘Do you want another one of those?’ he asked, looking at her empty glass. ‘Or shall I get some wine?’

‘Another margarita, I think. It’s doing me the world of good.’

Chang went up to the bar, where he ordered their food. He had removed his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves and undone a couple of buttons of his shirt. He was looking a lot more relaxed. For once she felt pleased to have his company, glad also not to be on her own. In fairness to him, he had been easygoing and cheerful all day, which was more than could be said for her. She felt a little guilty for having been quite so bad-tempered.

A few minutes later, he returned with two more margaritas, sat down opposite her and raised his glass. ‘Here’s to finding whoever’s doing all of this.’

She raised hers in return. ‘I’ll definitely drink to that.’

‘I was praying for something interesting for my first case, but they say beware what you wish for.’

‘Nothing like being thrown in at the deep end.’

‘I suppose so. Did you manage to get hold of Mark again?’

‘Yes. While you were outside. The signal kept cutting out, but he was nearly at Paddington. They’re bringing Wade in for questioning as we speak, but so far there’s no sign of Fleming.’

‘Maybe he’s done a runner.’

‘But why?’ She licked some salt from the rim of the glass, letting it dissolve on her tongue before washing it down with the drink. ‘Even if he did kill the girl, he must know we can’t prove it. And we’re no nearer to finding out who killed the other three. I feel depressed just thinking about it. Let’s talk about something else.’

‘OK.’ He was looking at her with an amused expression and she tried to think of something to say.

‘I’ve never actually asked you what you did before you joined us.’

‘That’s easy. I was on secondment to the Chinese Intelligence Unit for eight months.’

‘That sounds interesting.’

‘Not really. Most of the time I was in some van or office listening to endless taped conversations. I was bored rigid, so I asked to be transferred to something more active. In the end they took me seriously.’

‘This is certainly more cutting edge, if that’s what you want.’

‘It’s exactly what I want.’

Feeling increasingly light-headed, she took another sip. ‘You’re a bit of a dark horse,’ she said, after a moment, wondering if maybe she had misread him.

‘How do you mean?’

‘We’ve been working together for . . . how long is it?’

‘Six weeks.’

‘That’s right. We sit next to each other. We’ve had the odd coffee, the odd drink and several car journeys. And yet I know nothing about you.’

‘I thought you weren’t interested.’

‘Well, I am now,’ she said, a little taken aback by his directness. ‘Give me a thumbnail sketch.’

‘OK. If that’s what you want. I was born in Hong Kong and my parents still live there. My father’s Chinese, my mother’s English. My father’s obsessed with this country and he sent me to school over here when I was thirteen.’

‘Boarding school?’ she said, surprised.

‘Yes.’

‘All that time walking around St Thomas’s and you never said?’

‘You never asked.’

‘True. Still, you might have told me.’

‘Why? I got the clear impression you didn’t want the personal stuff.’

He spoke matter-of-factly, without any hint of bitterness. She had to admit it was a fair point. She hadn’t really paid much attention to him before or wanted to know anything about him. He had been an inconvenience, just another newby who had to be shown the ropes when everyone was working flat out. But she was curious now.

‘OK. What did you do next?’

‘I went to Cambridge and read Oriental Studies. When I graduated my father wanted me to become a lawyer, but I’d had enough of studying.’ He paused.

‘Then what?’

‘I’d split up with the girl I’d been going out with for three years at university, so I had no ties. I took off and went around the world. It was only supposed to be for a year or so. But it ended up being seven.’

‘What on earth did you do all that time?’

‘I bummed around for a bit, first Europe, then the States. I started in Miami and then went over to the Turks and Caicos to stay with an old friend. One thing led to another and I decided to teach diving.’

‘Diving?’

‘Yes. I’ve been doing it since I was ten and I love it. It’s also a great way to see the world. There are always endless job ads on the PADI website. Anyway, after the US, I moved on to Mexico, then South America. Eventually I ended up in the Far East. I’d work in a diving centre in some tourist resort for a while, earn some money, then when the season was over, or I got bored, I’d move on. Eventually, I worked my way up to instructor. I was out in Thailand by then, having a great time.’

‘You should talk to Mark. He loves diving. He’s just done some sort of underwater photography course.’

‘Really? I didn’t know that. He doesn’t talk much about himself.’

She didn’t reply. He was right. Tartaglia made a point of keeping himself to himself in the office, which only heightened the mystery for those that didn’t know him well. She had thought he was a friend, even that they were close, but it looked as though she had made a mistake . . . Wanting to move the conversation away from Tartaglia, she was about to ask Chang another question, when the waiter appeared with their food. They ate in silence, letting the buzz of the music fill the gap.

‘So, why did you stop?’ she asked after a few minutes.

‘I’d just turned twenty-seven. I suppose I was tired of being a nomad and I’d dived all the best sites around the world. I didn’t fancy going back to Hong Kong and getting caught up in my father’s business, so I came back to the UK. It’s always been my second home.’

She took a sip of her drink, wishing that she had asked for a glass of wine instead. ‘And why the Met? It’s quite a change, isn’t it?’

He shrugged. ‘My father was still nagging me to be a lawyer, but it didn’t float my boat, as they say.’

‘Whereas the police did?’

‘I thought it was worth a try. It was mainstream enough to shut him up, and yet completely different from what he wanted me to do. In the end, he gave up and left me alone, which is all I wanted. I was fast-tracked and spent the next few years being moved from one section to another. They wanted me to stay in the CIU, but I said I’d quit if they didn’t move me to an MIT. Luckily I had a great boss who supported me and they could see my heart wasn’t in it. In the end, they relented. For the record, I really like what I’m doing now.’

She sighed. ‘Wish I could say the same.’

‘You’re not enjoying it?’

‘I like the job. I certainly wouldn’t want to do anything else in the police. I feel it’s something worthwhile and I also feel I can make a contribution. But at the moment I’m a bit stale. I think I need a change of scene.’

He frowned. ‘You want to move somewhere else? Join another team?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe I need something totally different. I think I told you, my parents were both teachers. I was wondering if I should try it.’

‘Are you sure?’ he said, with obvious surprise. ‘I know you can be dedicated, but you have a pretty short fuse.’ He was smiling at her.

‘You’re perceptive. I suppose I haven’t exactly been that nice to you, have I?’

‘I didn’t take it personally.’

‘I’m glad. I’ve been a cow, yet you’ve put up with it. Why?’

‘It’s simple. I like you.’

She glanced away, embarrassed by his directness. There was more to him than she’d given him credit for and he was attractive, an interesting physical mix of East and West. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed before, but maybe her mood had blinded her to everything. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,’ she said, in between mouthfuls. ‘I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else.’

‘What, not even Mark?’

‘No.’

‘I thought you two were pretty close.’

She felt herself colour. ‘Not especially.’

‘Well, you can trust me. I won’t say a word, but I really hope you change your mind. It wouldn’t be the same without you.’

‘Thanks again. You’re very good for my morale.’

‘That’s something, I suppose.’

She met his eye, then looked away and took a sip of her drink. ‘Anyway, you haven’t finished telling me about yourself. Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

‘One sister, a year younger than me. She’s a lawyer, or a barrister, I should say. So my father’s happy. She lives in London too. Actually, we share a flat. You should meet her. She’s the same age as you and I think you’d get on.’

She looked up at him, puzzled. ‘Justin, how old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?’

His smile widened. ‘Older than I look.’

‘Which is?’

‘Thirty-three. I’ll be thirty-four in October.’

‘Oh.’ She couldn’t hide her surprise.

‘I know, I know. Be honest, like everyone else, you assumed I was still wet behind the ears.’

‘Well, not exactly. I thought you were probably mid-twenties, late twenties at most.’

He nodded. ‘It’s been the bane of my life. I’ve always had to carry ID to buy a drink or go and see a film. I suppose it will come in handy when I’m older, but it’s a right pain for now.’

‘Tell me about it,’ she said, finishing the last bit of tagine. ‘Just because I’m small, everyone assumes I’m barely out of my teens. Perhaps if I wore heels and make-up all the time they’d take me seriously, but I just can’t be bothered to play the game.’

‘You look very nice the way you are.’

She gave him a broad smile and drained her glass. ‘Thanks.’

‘Another margarita?’ he asked.

‘No. Maybe a glass of wine. Red. Something with a bit of body.’

30

Tim Wade leaned back in his chair until the frame cracked and rubbed his face slowly with his hands. ‘I haven’t lied to you,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t know who the girl was and I had nothing to do with her death. Are you sure she was murdered?’

Tartaglia nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Can you tell me what happened to her?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘You think it was some sort of sexual encounter gone wrong?’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Come on, Inspector. You and I both know what we’re talking about. I’ve seen enough of that sort of thing in my time at the Bar, and I’m sure you have too, in your line of work. Why else would a young woman get herself killed at a party?’ He fixed Tartaglia with a level stare. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? I’m surprised you found any evidence after all this time, but as far as Alex is concerned, he’s not your man.’

Tartaglia held Wade’s gaze. What he said was reasonable, although it was impossible to tell if it was what he really thought, or if he was hiding something. At face value, his words had the veneer of honesty and there wasn’t a glimmer of anything less settled behind them. But he was a professional and far too experienced to be wrong-footed.

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Easy. Alex and I have been friends for thirty years. He’s honest, he’s decent and he’s always been absolutely hopeless with women. At one point I thought he might even be gay. Whether it’s because he’s lazy, or just hasn’t the confidence, he never makes the first move. In a way, it’s actually quite a successful strategy. The women all end up doing the work for him—’

Tartaglia held up his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Wade. But we’re talking about murder, not whether or not he’s capable of pulling women.’

‘But that’s the point. Alex is psychologically not the type. I’ve never seen him aggressive, or losing his temper in a serious way.’

‘Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit?’

Wade shook his head. ‘I’m sure you’ve worked it out for yourself already, but why else would someone have killed her? I know you won’t tell me anything, but my guess is it’s unlikely to have been premeditated.’ He looked at Tartaglia inquiringly. ‘Do you agree?’

‘Impossible to say.’

‘You really think someone set out deliberately to kill her?’ He shook his head dismissively. ‘It was a party. Lots of people there, lots of drink and things going on. Things happen. Maybe someone got a bit carried away.’

‘What’s the point of speculating?’

‘Just hear me out. The way I see it, based on my professional experience, there has to be some sort of emotion driving it. I’m thinking frustration, anger, jealousy, hatred, maybe sexual passion. Right?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Well, none of this fits with Alex. He’s generally pretty placid. He doesn’t get riled up and he wouldn’t harm a fly.’

‘People do strange things when they’re high, particularly when they’ve taken a mixture of things, as Mr Fleming has admitted to.’

‘Well, I disagree,’ Wade said emphatically. ‘And I’m very worried about him.’

‘So are we. We’re doing everything we can to find him. When did you two last speak?’

‘Yesterday afternoon, after we finished here. He was in a pretty emotional state, I can tell you.’

‘I thought you said he wasn’t emotional.’

‘I said he wasn’t aggressive. He does self-pity very well and he was feeling extremely sorry for himself. It sounds like you gave him a pretty hard time. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he just gave me the brush-off.’

‘Why was he so upset, do you think?’ Tartaglia asked, wishing he could have been a fly on the wall during their conversation.

‘Because he’s not used to dealing with you lot. He doesn’t know how you work and you scared him.’

‘I don’t see why, if he’s innocent.’

‘He said that you thought he’d killed the girl, that you thought he might have killed Paul and Joe too, and being a stupid fool, he actually believed you meant it. I told him it was a load of rubbish, that you were just trying to find out how much he knew and that you had no evidence whatsoever and that he shouldn’t let it worry him.’

‘That was helpful of you. We were just trying to get to the bottom of things.’

‘As I said. Anyway, strong-arm tactics don’t work with Alex. He was really upset about it and he wouldn’t even listen to me, which is most unusual. Maybe he’s run off somewhere to get away from all of this and bury his head in the sand.’

‘Do you know where he went after that?’

‘To the restaurant. He said he had to work.’

‘We’ve spoken to the people at the restaurant and they confirmed that he worked his shift last night.’

‘Was he there today?’

‘No, and he’s not due in again until Monday evening. We’ve checked with his flatmate and he didn’t sleep there last night and he hasn’t been back since. Does he have a girlfriend or partner?’

‘No. Hasn’t had one for ages, as far as I know.’

‘Maybe he went home with someone from the restaurant?’

Wade shook his head. ‘Alex isn’t into casual sex. He’s one of the world’s last, genuine, old-fashioned romantics. It’s why he’s never married.’

‘Really?’ He found Wade’s remark surprising and wondered what lay behind it. Was his view of married life cynical or merely pragmatic? Did he hanker after the single life? But there was no time to explore it. There were more important things to cover. ‘Are you sure you don’t know where he is?’

‘Hand on heart, Inspector. If I did, even if he’d told me not to tell you, I would. As I said, I’m very worried about his safety.’

‘What about Daniel Black? When did you last see him?’

‘Again, it was after we both were finished here. I left Alex in Ken High Street, came back here and waited until Danny came out. We had a quick drink in the Scarsdale Arms around the corner, then he pushed off.’

‘Do you know where he went?’

‘He said he had to meet someone, but I’ve no idea who. Danny was always going off to meet some unsavoury type, so I didn’t bother to ask.’

‘You don’t seem very upset by what happened to him.’

Wade stared at him and shook his head disapprovingly. ‘Don’t give me that. I’ve been around the block far too many times to allow myself to be provoked by some cheap remark. You have no idea what I feel and it’s none of your business.’

‘Still . . .’

‘I’m here of my own free will. If you start trying to get at me, I’ll stop cooperating.’

Tartaglia held his gaze for a moment, then inclined his head. It was a cheap remark. Wade had seemed visibly shaken by the news of Black’s death and the discovery of the girl’s body. He decided to play it straight. ‘OK. Going back to the girl, in the statement you gave us yesterday, you said you met Mr Fleming that night after he had found her in the lake.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Where exactly did you see him? I was there today and I’m just trying to get a picture of it all in my mind.’

‘It was somewhere in the woods, but don’t ask me precisely where. I was pretty pissed. All I know is I was trying to find my way back to the stables. Alex saw me and called out. He tried to tell me about her, but I’m afraid I really didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying. I was shattered and all I could think about was bed. I know it sounds callous now, but he wasn’t making much sense and it was really late. Is there any point in going over this again?’

‘Please. Humour me for a minute. Was he agitated or upset?’

‘Both, I suppose. But there’s nothing suspicious in that. Even in the state he was in, he could see something wasn’t right with her. He tried to get me to go back with him and take a look at her, but as you’ll know if you’ve been there, it’s all very spread out. I didn’t fancy walking all the way back and I told him it would have to wait until morning.’

‘But you believed what he said?’

‘To be honest, I thought he was exaggerating. Alex is inclined to be a bit dramatic. People were crashed out all over the place by that time. I don’t think anyone made it home that night. I just assumed that whoever she was, she’d had too much to drink, or something, and just needed to sleep it off.’

‘If you didn’t take what he said seriously, why did you bother to go back to find her the next day?’

Wade rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘You know, I don’t really remember. I’m not even sure if it was my idea. Maybe I thought we ought to check, just to make double sure.’

‘But according to what Mr Fleming said, you came to find him and you had Paul Khan and Danny Black with you. So you must have taken it seriously.’

Wade shrugged. ‘Maybe I said something to Paul and he said we should all check it out. He was very proprietorial about the place, as if the whole thing belonged to him, not his uncle. But I’m afraid it’s all too long ago to remember the exact details. Anyway, why does it matter? What’s important now is to find out who’s doing this. Until you do, Alex and I aren’t safe. We both need protection and you should have offered it to us before.’

‘We’re trying to sort something out now,’ Tartaglia said, picking up the implicit threat in Wade’s words. Hopefully, Steele would be able to square things with Cornish. If not, they would have to go up the food chain until they found someone with sufficient understanding and clout to do it.

Wade gave him a penetrating stare. ‘Well, I’m not leaving here without it. I have no intention of becoming the next victim.’

‘I promise you, Mr Wade, that’s the last thing we want too.’

Wade shifted in his chair. ‘Do you think this is all about that girl?’

‘We’re keeping an open mind for the moment.’

Wade shook his head as though he didn’t buy it. ‘It’s got to be about her, hasn’t it? The only problem is, there were any number of people at that party who could have done it. They got away with it until now, so why suddenly stir things up? She could have been there another twenty years without anyone knowing. And why kill Joe, and Paul, and now Danny? If it’s someone close to the girl, say a member of her family, why start killing now, and why target us? I tell you, all we’re guilty of is hiding her body. We didn’t kill her.’

Tartaglia looked him in the eye but could read nothing. What Wade said made sense and it was something that had also been puzzling him. As soon as they had an ID, they would start tracing the girl’s next of kin, but it still didn’t get them much further towards finding out who had killed the three men. If it was a father, or a brother, how would they have known about what had happened that night? How would they know about the crypt, the boathouse and the lake, and about the five men, unless they were there? And if they had been there, why hadn’t they done something about it sooner? On top of everything, even though the five had committed a criminal act in hiding the body, he agreed with Wade. It didn’t seem sufficient motive for cold-blooded murder.

Nor did the theory that one of the five was behind what was happening hold water any longer. The post mortem hadn’t yet been carried out, but it looked as though Black had been killed some time between six o’clock in the evening and the early hours of the next morning. The park was officially closed between midnight and five a.m., but it wasn’t fenced in and access was easy. Although the area was riddled with security cameras, he held little hope of anything meaningful being found. The killer was far too organised. Black’s body had been left face down in shallow water, hidden under the thick, overhanging branches of a willow tree. Tim Wade had been the last person they knew of to see Black alive. So far they had been unable to trace Danny’s steps after that. It looked as though his body had been in the lake for at least twelve hours before it was discovered by an elderly Labrador, chasing a tennis ball, in the early afternoon. He wondered what the statistics were for bodies discovered by dogs; they deserved medals, as far as he was concerned. Fleming had been at the restaurant for the whole of Saturday evening until one o’clock Sunday morning, which probably ruled him out, although where he had gone afterwards was a mystery. It seemed that Wade, too, was in the clear. After his drink with Black, he had gone straight home and stayed in all evening. His wife would vouch for him, he said. He had left the house the next morning at nine o’clock and had arrived at his chambers by ten, where he had been seen working by two other members of chambers. He had then returned home for Sunday lunch with his in-laws just after one.

There was a knock and Steele put her head around the door. ‘Mark, can I have a quick word?’

‘I’ll be right back,’ Tartaglia said to Wade, getting to his feet. He joined Steele outside and they walked away down the hall. Once they were safely out of earshot, Steele turned to face him.

‘Bad news. Either there’s been one leak too many or the press have joined up the dots. The press office just emailed this over to me for comment.’ She held up a sheet of paper with the headline
CENTRAL LONDON MURDERS LINKED
. He couldn’t make out the details but he saw Anna Paget’s by-line beneath the name of one of the regular hacks on the crime desk. His heart sank. What had he said to her the night before? He was sure he hadn’t mentioned anything particularly sensitive . . .

‘Isn’t Anna Paget the woman who interviewed Joe Logan?’ Steele asked. He nodded, hoping she couldn’t read his internal confusion. ‘There’ll be a press conference first thing tomorrow,’ she continued. ‘I guess it was only a matter of time, but they’ll all be on our backs now like a pack of hyenas and they’ll whip the public up into a state of hysteria. You’d better tell your team to batten down the hatches. They are not to talk to anybody, and I mean anybody.’

‘What about Wade? What shall I say to him?’

‘Oh yes,’ she nodded. ‘I almost forgot. You can tell him he can have the protection he’s asked for on the condition that he says absolutely nothing to the press. Hopefully his name won’t come up anywhere, but tell him that if any journalists start sniffing around, he’s to refer them to us and contact us immediately. In the meantime, we’ll put someone in the house with him and his family twenty-four-seven and there will also be someone outside. There’ll be a special alarm with a panic button that will come straight through to us in the event of an emergency.’