In Denial (26 page)

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Authors: Nigel Lampard

BOOK: In Denial
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Two, maybe three nights.’ His mind shot back to when he had last asked for a room for two or three nights. He smiled when he wondered if the under-manager was going to suggest it was a little late for a room as it was after eight o’clock.


I only have a Grand Deluxe Harbour View, sir, a late cancellation but as its name suggests it’s at the front of the hotel overlooking the harbour.’


Yes, that’ll be fine.’ Adam had no idea how much such a room was going to cost him but for just a couple of nights he really couldn’t care less.

The under-manager put a pad in front of Adam. ‘That will be four thousand five hundred dollars per night, sir. Would you mind filling in one of these. The room number is four-two-one and would you please ensure you put down your method of payment, sir?’


Certainly.’ Adam picked up a pen and after starting to fill out the registration form he became aware that Leila was standing by his side. He looked at her and she smiled.


They’re checking the client’s room now but so far nothing’s been handed in.’


I see.’ Adam turned back to the form.


I think we may have had a misunderstanding just now. Would it be possible for us to have a coffee together before I go to work?’


Yes, I suppose so, but -’


Can Mr Harrison’s cases be taken to his room, please?’ Leila asked the under-manager.


Yes, of course, madam.’ The under-manager clicked his fingers and a bellboy appeared. ‘Those two cases over there to Room four-two-one,’ he ordered in Cantonese and for Adam it was as though he was a young teenager again. He’d had no reason to speak the language for so many years but in just those few words it all came back to him. He shook his head and smiled as more memories and perhaps a little more security, flooded back.


Shall we go to the restaurant?’ Leila asked by his side.


Yes, of course. Lead the way.’

 

The under-manager watched Adam and Leila walk towards the pool terrace. He was sure he had seen the woman somewhere, but where? He was equally sure he had watched that bottom wiggle its way across the lobby on more than one occasion. From her accent she was a local so it was unlikely she had stayed at the Peninsula, unless …

The under-manager nodded.

Of course, about three weeks ago! She was with that very brash American who complained about the poor selection of bourbon in the mini-bar. A lot of the men took girls back to their rooms and hotel staff were told to turn a blind eye, but the under-manager remembered Leila because she was particularly attractive. Her skin was too dark but that figure made up for everything. The under-manager turned towards his next customer with a genuine smile on his face.

 


I’m sorry Adam, but I think -’ Leila started to say once they were seated but Adam cut her off.


Leila, I shouldn’t have repeated what the taxi driver said, I’m sorry.’


But I did ask whether you wanted some company this evening.’ Leila picked up her coffee cup and gave him a penetrating look. Adam was feeling absolutely shattered so he could have done without Leila’s intervention. All he wanted was to go to his room, have a shower and collapse on the bed for as long as he needed. He didn’t want any commitments and certainly not this early in what could be a prolonged stay in Hong Kong.

He had three months.

Whatever he had to do might only take three weeks so if that were the case then in less than a month he would be on a flight back to the UK. He would enjoy the luxury of the Peninsula for a few days and find somewhere a good deal cheaper.


Yes, you did, and would you consider me very rude if I were to say that no, I don’t?’


I think this is where the misunderstanding might be,’ Leila told him. ‘Our meeting at the airport was by chance. I asked a lot of questions in the taxi. I’m that sort of person, I do ask questions and you were polite - patient and polite.’

She smiled; her teeth were small, even and very white, and once again Adam could not believe how a smile could enhance an already beautiful face.


I know you have only just arrived in my city, a city that used to be your city, but it is different now. The buildings are still here, well there are some new ones like the airport, but generally there has been little change. Nor has there been that much change with the people. Under British rule they did one thing and now under Chinese rule they sometimes do another. I say
sometimes
, because it’s only after the British left that so many Hong Kong Chinese began to appreciate and understand what they had until that day in 1997. It was easy to criticise. Just imagine a similar situation in Europe. Let us say that the Chinese had colonised the Isle of Man for one hundred years because of a freak trading agreement, and then the island is handed back to the mainland. It’s inconceivable, Adam, isn’t it? Look at Hong Kong, look at Macao, look at Gibraltar, look at the Malvinas, sorry the Falkland Islands, and even look at what the English call the Channel Islands, they are all freaks of history. And also look at most of Asia, the Middle East as you call it, and Africa. I won’t mention South and North America.’ Leila put her cup in the saucer. ‘What gave you Europeans the right to think you should rule the world? There are many proud and successful nations out there that, if they had been left alone, had every right to develop at their own pace. But, no, along came the English, the Dutch, the French, the Germans, the Italians, the Portuguese and the Spanish, all of whom thought they knew better. Well in the case of the Hong Kong Chinese, the British did know better and it isn’t until now that so many of them really appreciate what they had. They had freedom. They had the freedom to act, the freedom of speech and the freedom to demonstrate if they didn’t agree with something. They had democracy, an ideology that is alien to our new masters. To the outside world Hong Kong has changed very little from when we were under British rule. The people look the same, the buildings are the same, but underneath there is an undertow that is eating away at the very heart of what four if not five generations of Hong Kong Chinese have enjoyed. It is that side of Hong Kong I would like to volunteer to show you, it is that side of Hong Kong I think you have come back to see.’ Leila smiled again, her fingers resting lightly on the back of Adam’s hand. ‘But I will only show you it if you buy me dinner this evening.’

Adam’s cup had stayed somewhere between the saucer and his mouth throughout Leila’s lecture. He was astounded at the depth of her knowledge, her surprisingly good English and her astute observations. He had allowed her to carry on, though there were flaws in her argument. But it was mid-morning, they were sitting having coffee in The Peninsula and they were strangers.


Wow! Where did that come from?’ he asked, genuinely intrigued.


The heart,’ Leila replied.


If I agree to have dinner with you this evening is there more where that came from?’


Only if you want there to be.’


If I told you I wanted to find the Hong Kong I knew as a youngster, not the new Hong Kong of now, would you be offended?’


I would be happy to show you both or either.’


Then we have a date - dinner this evening. When do you want to meet and where do you want to eat?’


I think I will let you pay but you are my guest in every other sense. I’ll meet you in the lobby here at eight this evening and I will take you somewhere you will never have been to before. It will be an experience.’


Is that a challenge?’


If you want it to be.’


Fifty Hong Kong dollars?’


You have a bet, Adam Harrison. A free meal and fifty dollars. It promises to be a good evening.’

 

*  *  *

 

Later in his room and after a long, hot shower, Adam lay on the bed, from which he could see the tops of the buildings over on Hong Kong Island. He thought about what had happened, from the taxi incident at the airport until now. His trip to Hong Kong was very personal; it was for him and nobody else and yet he had allowed this woman, albeit a very attractive, intelligent and highly desirable woman, to take over the few hours he had so far spent on what was supposed to be a private visit to his past.

As his eyes began to close he smiled as he realised she had even stopped saying
you was
.

He did not think it strange.

 

*  *  *

 

Gabrielle walked into Ashbourne police station and the duty constable did a double take. The station happened to be in Compton Street almost opposite Jeremy Jacob’s office, so she hoped he had not been looking out of his window.

The constable’s eyes were drawn to the blonde hair and the very attractive smiling face, down the long slender neck, over the dog collar to the ... the
dog collar
?

PC Phillip Walters’ mouth fell open.

He had never seen a female vicar before. Well, that was not strictly true; he had seen pictures in the papers. There was that one, who was also very pretty, who led the campaign about cleft palates and abortions and things. He couldn’t remember what her name was, but she was very, very pretty. The female vicar who was walking towards him was just as pretty.

Below the dog collar was a large silver crucifix on a chain and it rested between her breasts against the greyness of her sweater. Do female vicars have breasts? They must do, thought PC Phillip Walters. They’re female aren’t they? His next thought suggested he was not going to be able to handle this and he was on the point of picking up the internal phone when the female vicar spoke.


Good morning. My name is Gabrielle Brooks and I would like to speak to the duty CID Inspector, please.’

 

Gabrielle had no idea whether Ashbourne had any CID and if they did she certainly had no idea whether the senior officer would be an inspector.


Er, yes Ma’am, I mean, Miss. Help me, I really don’t know what to call you.’

She smiled. ‘Gabrielle will be fine.’


Gabrielle? But you’re a vicar.’


I’m not actually, I’m a minister in the Scottish Episcopal Church, but yes, Gabrielle will be fine.’


Right, and er, you want to speak to CID.’


Yes, please.’


May I ask what it’s about?’


Of course you can, Constable. It’s about the murders of Lucinda Harrison and her children, Charlotte and Timothy.’

 

DI Eric Rowlands sat across the table from Gabrielle and each had a mug of coffee in front of them.


You’ve caused a bit of a stir,’ DI Rowlands said, his eyes intent on Gabrielle’s. Young Phillip Walters was right because she really was a stunner with a collar. ‘I understand you want to talk about the Harrison murders.’


Yes, Inspector, that’s correct.’


Do you want to give me information or obtain it?’

DI Eric Rowlands was pushing retirement. At fifty-three he reckoned he had seen and done it all. He enjoyed his career although he had not got quite as far as he had hoped. This was down to a personality clash with the DI in Stafford when he was a lowly DS. He wondered how many careers that particular DI had made or broken in his time.

Rowlands knew he was overweight. He needed a haircut, although there was no longer much to cut, and yes, he was ready for retirement. But then somebody like this vicar sitting opposite him comes along and makes him realise he did not know it all and he had not done it all.


I suppose it’s a bit of both really, but more of the latter,’ Gabrielle told him.

She had a cute Scottish accent as well as an equally cute figure. Vicar or not she was flesh and blood. Actually he liked the way she was dressed. Blue jeans, Nike trainers, grey V-necked sweater and the collar. He thought the large silver crucifix and chain was a bit over the top but perhaps the two went together - the collar and the crucifix. Like Phillip Walters, Eric Rowlands had never met a female vicar before. If they all looked like her he would get himself christened, baptised and then whatever came next - confirmed, was it? - all in one day. He would go to church in the morning, afternoon and evening. He would even join Sunday school. That is until his wife found out and then all hell would break loose.


So where do you want to start?’


Can we establish how much time we have first, Inspector?’

Eric Rowlands looked at his watch. ‘Let’s see, it’s nine-fifteen now, I’ve got to be home for lunch about twelve-thirty and then well, I had hoped for an early finish as soon after four as I can make it.’ He smiled. ‘An hour, would that do?’

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