Hanging Hill (10 page)

18

For the first time since Zoë had known him, Ben’s appearance was less than perfect at that evening’s team meeting. Last night’s wine and lack of sleep were starting to show. He had the beginning of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw and his shirt was creased at the back. To her annoyance she found that creased shirt slightly endearing.

‘It’s all a bit disappointing,’ he said, addressing the assembled team. ‘I admit it hasn’t been a good day. First of all we’re still waiting for a single sighting. Unbelievable, I know, considering how usually a case with this much media will pop up scores of sightings all over the place. And Lorne, a striking girl, known to people, walking all that way home and not one person claiming they saw her. Nothing on any of the shops’ CCTV equipment, and none of the shop assistants remember anything either – though, according to her family, she did have a habit of browsing and not buying. So, nothing very encouraging on that.’

He rolled up his sleeves. It had been hot today. Hot enough to make those creases and so hot that summer seemed to have arrived already. Out in the streets almond blossom, blown in from the gardens and the parks, lay in drifts in the gutters. Zoë hadn’t said anything to Ben about the camera chip. She wasn’t sure how and when she’d do it. Whether she’d do it at all. The chip was still in her back pocket.

‘Our witness at the canal reported a conversation with Lorne that really didn’t tally with the conversation the OIC was told about when she went missing. So I spent an hour talking to Alice, the friend Lorne was on the phone to, and although she admitted Lorne was more upset than she’d originally said, she was evasive when I pushed her on
why
she was upset.’ He took a sip of coffee, set the cup down carefully. ‘So, let me just make an intuitive comment here. She was protecting someone.’

The superintendent, who had been at the back of the room, his arms folded, waiting to be impressed, now leaned forward. ‘Protecting someone?’

‘Yes. Alice was Lorne’s best friend, I mean real to-the-death friends, inseparable. And now she’s covering something up for her, even though she’s dead. Something important.’

Debbie Harry, who had been sitting in silence in the corner, got up and came to the front. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Ben and addressed the team, as if this was an investigation they were running together. ‘That’s right. You see, from this, and from other comments some of her schoolfriends have made, we’re pretty sure there’s probably a boyfriend. Someone Lorne wanted to keep secret.’

Zoë stared at her.
We
’re pretty sure? Who the hell did she think she was? An investigator? Ben’s partner? She was a psychologist. What was she doing still hanging around? The last Zoë remembered, these people got paid for on an hourly basis; obviously Debbie didn’t get that. Obviously she thought she was part of the team. And Zoë could see from the team’s faces that they were all, to a man, every one of them, sucking up her psychology-for-dummies stuff because it was coming out of the mouth of a pretty girl with some letters after her name.

‘Yes. There is almost certainly a boyfriend. It accounts for Alice’s evasiveness. We think Lorne may have been keeping it secret for a while – and now, of course, he’s afraid to come forward. Why, we don’t know, but he’s out there. Whether he was responsible for her death or not … well, that’s an unknowable. But those words, “I’ve had enough …”’ Debbie gave the team her patronizing smile, the one that said,
Come along – I’m interested in what you think. Let’s work together on this
‘… does it sound to you like she and the secret boyfriend had been having trouble?’

‘RH,’ Zoë said. Everyone turned to her in surprise. ‘His initials will be “RH”.’

‘How did you reach that conclusion?’ said the superintendent.

She gave him a withering look. ‘I’ve had my palm read. This morning. The psychics are great at this stuff – this investigatory shit. They said someone with the initials “RH” is going to come into my life.’

There was a brief embarrassed silence at the deliberate poke at Debbie. Ben frowned at Zoë. Then Debbie spoke. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said archly. ‘What’s your point?’

‘In Lorne’s diary she talks about RH. I’ve spent the afternoon chasing it. So far nothing. If you’re looking for a secret boyfriend, look for someone with those initials.’

There was a long pause. Then Debbie let out her breath and smiled. Her inclusive, welcoming smile, as if to say:
I am so glad you’ve finally seen our way of thinking. Welcome aboard the Great Ship Debbie Harry. We know you’re going to love your time here
. ‘Thank you, Detective Benedict. Thank you. It’s great to be moving forward now. And I think you’ll all agree that finding “RH” …’ she opened her hands, delighted with the way things were progressing ‘… will be absolutely crucial to cracking this case.’

19

A lot of families in Bath chose Victorian homes over Georgian – the Victorians tended to have more rooms on each floor, not so many flights of stairs to run up chasing kids or pets. They were easier to heat and easier to make alterations to because most of them weren’t listed. The house Sally had lived in with Julian was a detached Victorian villa, with an extension and a conservatory at the rear, set well back from the road in large gardens that Millie used to enjoy running around. Now, though, there were paths where there never had been, a whole complex system of low lavender bushes cut severely into squares. Millie’s tree-house had been repainted with purple crocodiles and elephants for little Adelayde, the new Cassidy.

Millie hated Melissa. She only came here once a week on sufferance to see her dad. Now when Sally pulled up outside, she refused to go in, or even have her presence acknowledged. She sat in the car with her nose pressed to the window and stared out as Sally walked up the path, lit by the solar-powered garden lights that were stuck in the ground every few feet.

She hadn’t phoned in advance – Julian would find a way of not answering the call – she went straight to the front door and knocked loudly. From inside came a voice, Melissa, calling, ‘Julian. The door.’ A moment or two later he appeared, wine glass in hand.

‘Oh.’ His face fell when he saw her. ‘Sally.’

‘Can I come in?’

He glanced uneasily over his shoulder. She could see an expensively engineered pram sitting there, a row of rattles suspended above it. ‘What’s it about?’

‘Millie.’

‘Julian?’ Melissa called from inside. ‘Who is it, baby?’

‘It’s … Sally.’

There was a silence. Then the living-room door opened and Melissa appeared. She was a landscape gardener by trade, and when Sally had first met her she seemed to be dressed for a rodeo, with a suede cowboy hat, walking boots with thick socks folded over the tops and tweed shorts that never changed colour from day to day. She laughed like a pony and the cord of the hat would bounce around under her chin. Sometimes in the cold weather a clear drip would form at the end of Melissa’s nose and tremble there unnoticed for long minutes while she talked. She was the last person Sally would have expected Julian to go for. Today she was dressed in her customary shorts, but over them she wore an enormous oatmeal cardigan with Adelayde strapped to her chest in a scarlet cloth papoose. She automatically jiggled up and down to keep the baby asleep while she eyed her husband’s ex-wife.

‘Sally!’ she said after a moment or two, ‘You look lovely. Come in.’ She stepped back to let her into the living room, smiling expansively. ‘Lovely to see you.’

Sally went in and stood for a while in silence. The room was unrecognizable – redecorated in deep primary colours, with sharp, uncomfortable furniture. A black and white silk curtain was pulled across half of the bay windows, the baby’s playpen placed in front of them.

Melissa switched off the television, which was playing quietly in the corner, and settled on the edge of the large sofa, shifting the baby’s legs in the sling so they lay on either side of her stomach. Sally glanced around for her comfy old armchair where she had fed Millie as a baby. Instead she saw a leather love seat decorated in purple and white hexagons. She sat on it awkwardly.

‘How’s Millie?’ said Melissa, with a smile. ‘Lively as ever?’

‘No. She’s terrible.’

Melissa’s smile faded. ‘Really? Is it because of that girl? Lorne Wood?’

‘That’s not helping.’

‘One of the boys who did work experience with me knew her. He had a crush on her. I was surprised. She didn’t seem his type. Terrible – cheap-looking, you know.’

‘What’s troubling Millie?’ asked Julian. ‘She seemed all right the other day.’

‘It’s been a long time, but I think she’s still finding the divorce very difficult.’

‘Sally,’ Julian murmured, ‘maybe if you want to talk about the divorce it’d be better if—’

‘She’s having a hard time.’ Her voice came out more firmly than she’d expected it to. ‘She’s just a little girl and she’s finding it difficult.’

Julian frowned. He’d never seen this from Sally. Looking a little nervous, he closed the door and crossed the room. He sat down next to Melissa, pulling his trousers up his thin legs so that he didn’t stretch the knees. Looking at him now, Sally wondered what on earth she’d ever seen in him, except that he’d always been there somehow, paying for things and answering questions for her like a father. Until the day he wasn’t, and he was doing it all for Melissa instead. ‘OK. I hear you. You want a discussion. And what do you want out of that discussion? From us – me and Melissa?’

She blinked. ‘Uh – money.’

Melissa took a deep breath. She sat back on the sofa and crossed one long tanned leg over the other, fixing her eyes on the ceiling. Julian closed his eyes as if he’d had a momentary sharp pain in his head. He opened them, put his elbows on his knees and placed his palms together. ‘Can I just say that this is something we did talk about before? And, if you remember, I said—’

‘Four thousand pounds.’

‘
Jesus!
’ Melissa hissed. She bounced Adelayde even more vigorously, her eyes still locked on the ceiling. ‘
Jesus Christ
.’

Julian sat back in the chair, folded his arms and regarded Sally carefully. It was the sort of look she’d seen him use in business, sizing up a deal, trying to decide if a client was to be trusted. He was scrutinizing her as if, for the first time, he saw her as someone the same age as he was, and not his inferior – his little child bride. ‘You’re not joking, I take it.’

‘I’m not.’

‘What’s the money for?’

‘The trip to Malta. You said you were going to pay for it.’

‘OK. If there’s going to be aggression introduced at this point this might be the time to call a halt and say let’s chat to the solicitors first and then—’

‘You told her you were going to pay for her to go to Malta. You made her that promise – I was there when you did it. It would have been something quite different if you’d said no, but that’s not what happened. You made the promise and broke it. She thought you were going to pay for her. She ended up having to borrow the money.’

‘I suppose,’ Melissa said, in a level tone, ‘she
could
have cancelled it when she knew Julian and I
really
couldn’t afford it.’

‘All her friends were going.’

‘No one mentioned four thousand to me,’ Julian said. ‘Four thousand! What sort of trip to Malta costs four thousand pounds? They’re teenagers, for heaven’s sake. They’re supposed to sleep on the floor of the train, not take suites in the new Airbus A380.’

‘This is genuine. Millie needs the money. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.’

‘Millie needs it or you need it?’ Melissa said. Then she closed her eyes. ‘Sorry – I didn’t mean that. Ignore me.’

‘Who did she borrow the money from? Not Nial’s parents, please, God. They’ve already got me on their shit list with whatever you’ve told them over the divorce.’

‘Julian, look – I can’t make you, I can’t force you to do anything. I signed my rights away with the divorce, and even if I could afford legal advice I know what they’d say. All I can do is ask you, politely, to help her. She’s in trouble, Julian, really in trouble. She’s only fifteen and there’s nothing I can do in this situation.’

He licked his lips, glanced at his wife. ‘Melissa?’

She shrugged. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the ceiling and was still jiggling the baby up and down. She had the look of someone humming loudly in their head to block out what was happening around them. ‘You do whatever you think is the right thing.’ She placed her hand protectively over Adelayde’s small head, as if suddenly it was her and the baby against Sally and Julian. ‘Whatever your conscience tells you is right is what you should do.’

Julian gave a hard cough. He looked from Sally to Melissa and back again. Sally had never seen him so uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry, Sally. All the maintenance I was going to give Millie went into Peppercorn. I’ll give you a hundred but that’ll have to be all.’

Melissa made a small, disgusted noise in her throat.

‘You OK about that, Melissa?’

‘Fine,’ she said, in a high, tense voice. ‘Absolutely fine.’

He got to his feet, left the room and could be heard after a moment in his office at the end of the corridor. Sally and Melissa were left in the room on their own, Melissa breathing in and out loudly, as if she was trying to calm herself. Eventually it seemed she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her head snapped towards Sally.

‘You said you weren’t going to ask for anything else. You told Julian you wouldn’t ask for any more. He’s paid for your house – he’s had to take out a massive mortgage on this place to do it – and he’s already paid Millie’s school for the next three years.
Three years
. He couldn’t afford that but he did it anyway.’

Sally said nothing. On the way up the path she’d noticed several empty bottles of Bollinger in the recycling bin. When she’d been with Julian he’d drunk Bollinger on special occasions, not every night. And the oatmeal cardigan Melissa was wearing had cost three hundred pounds. She’d seen it in the window of Square earlier this week. He still had an apartment in Madeira that he rented out, and a cottage in Devon.

‘I mean, is she even enjoying the school? Is she doing well? Obviously I hope so because it’s a lot of money to pay out if she’s not. I very much doubt Julian will be able to put two children through private education. Adelayde probably doesn’t stand a chance with what Millie is costing.’ Melissa looked as if she might start crying at any moment. ‘So I very much hope for Julian’s sake that the one child he’s poured everything into will do well.’

Sally got to her feet and went to the door.

‘Don’t threaten us, Sally.’

She turned back. Melissa had got to her feet and was staring at her with pure hatred. ‘Don’t be nasty. No need to be nasty – because as nasty as you are I can be nastier.’

Sally opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Without a word she went into the hallway, shut the door behind her and stood next to the expensive pram, fiddling anxiously with her car keys. A moment later Julian emerged from his study. He was holding a cheque and a printed sheet. It said simply, ‘I acknowledge the receipt of the sum of one hundred pounds from Mr J. Cassidy.’

‘Sign, please.’

She signed, not meeting his eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. She took the cheque in its good-quality white envelope, and turned for the door.

‘Sally?’

She paused, one hand on the lock.

‘Please …’ Julian stepped up close to her and whispered, so Melissa couldn’t hear, ‘please – will you tell Millie I love her? Will you?’