The Last Girl (15 page)

Derwent whistled the first line of ‘I’m Just a Girl Who Can’t Say No’. Kennford ignored it.

‘If Vita found out about any of them, she didn’t discuss it with me. She knew that our marriage wasn’t under threat. I wouldn’t have left her for anyone, and I always made that clear to the women I slept with.’

‘Very laudable,’ I said sarcastically.

‘I can understand that you need your phone. We’ll do our best to get it back to you quickly.’ Godley waited until Kennford put the phone down on the coffee table, then leaned over and switched it off. ‘As you can see, that’s turned off. It won’t be on again until it’s being technically examined.’

‘So you can’t fit me up by writing your own messages. I know the drill.’ Kennford stood up and began to pace the room. ‘What about the possibility that this was a burglary attempt that went very badly wrong? Have you considered that?’

‘It just doesn’t seem to fit with the facts,’ Derwent drawled.

‘Yes, it does,’ Kennford insisted. ‘The offenders got into the house, confronted Vita and Laura, tried to bully Vita into telling them where the safe was, not that we have one, and inadvertently killed Laura. Then they panicked and killed Vita to hide what they’d done. I know criminals and most of them aren’t that bright. They’re like foxes in a henhouse when their plans go wrong.’

Derwent shook his head. ‘We were at the post-mortems this morning, mate, and there was nothing accidental about your daughter’s injuries. The damage to her neck wasn’t a shaving cut.’

The colour had gone from Kennford’s face. ‘Already? They did them already?’

‘The quicker we have information from the pathologist about how a victim died, the better it is for the investigation,’ Godley explained.

‘I suppose it is.’ He still sounded stunned. ‘My poor little Laura.’

‘What about your poor little Lydia?’ I sounded sharp, but I couldn’t help it. ‘I spent the morning with her.’

‘How enthralling for you.’

‘It had its moments. Would you like to know where Lydia is now?’

‘In Twickenham?’

‘In hospital.’

That got his attention. ‘Why? What happened?’

‘She collapsed. She had an untreated injury that caused significant blood loss.’

‘An injury? From last night?’

‘No. Not from then. From this morning.’ I hesitated, not sure if it was better to approach the subject delicately or straight out. The direct approach seemed easiest. ‘It seems it was self-inflicted. Did you know she self-harmed?’

He sat down in his chair again and leaned his head against the back of it, his eyes closed. In irritation, it transpired. ‘Oh, fucking spare me. She had to find some way of getting attention, didn’t she?’

‘Mr Kennford, Lydia’s arms were covered in scars. I saw them. The injury that caused her to faint was particularly deep, but it was far from the first. The doctor she saw in A and E told me she had probably been cutting herself for years. Have you ever had her referred for psychiatric assessment?’

‘We didn’t need that to know she’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but she’s had plenty of attention over the years.’

‘While we were waiting for the ambulance to come Mrs Fairfax told me Lydia was diagnosed with an eating disorder a few years ago.’

‘Diagnosed, treated at vast expense, released. Not cured, you’ll notice. It was described as being under control. That’s if you believe she had a real problem.’

‘I take it you didn’t think that.’

Kennford looked bored. ‘She needed to lose weight. She
went
on a diet, which was effective. Her mother panicked and took her to a specialist who was more than happy to diagnose her with anorexia nervosa. Vita was secretly delighted, of course. At her tennis club it’s a fashionable ailment for a child to have.’

‘It’s a life-threatening disorder,’ I said hotly. ‘And the cut on Lydia’s arm––’

‘I’m afraid I’m not interested. She did it to herself, so it merits neither sympathy nor attention.’

‘Don’t you think she’s been looking for your approval?’ I couldn’t believe how unmoved he was, how unsympathetic.

‘She’s been looking in all the wrong places, if that’s the case.’

‘Laura was your favourite, wasn’t she?’ Derwent’s voice was harsh. He was staring out of the window again and didn’t bother to turn around. ‘Did Vita feel the same way?’

‘Laura was a more attractive and rewarding child. We both felt that way. Vita was probably better at hiding her feelings from the girls. I didn’t see the point in pretending.’

‘Maybe if you had seen the point in it, she wouldn’t be lying in hospital right now.’ I shook my head. ‘You really are a cold person, aren’t you? A normal father would have dropped everything to go and be with his child when she needed him.’

‘Does she need me? She’s got doctors and nurses to look after her physically. Mentally too, I suppose. God, if she ends up in another loony bin she’s going to have trouble when it comes to university applications. She can forget medicine as a career. She’ll fail the psychological profile in a half second.’

‘What about her emotional needs? What about the fact that you’re all she has left of a family?’

‘Lydia learned a long time ago that Daddy was a busy person who wasn’t always available for sports days and
school
plays. She came to terms with it, as did Laura. Vita was always there for both of them. Just because Vita’s gone, I can’t change the way I live my life.’ He turned to Godley. ‘You have all of these pathetic reasons why I would have wanted Vita dead. You haven’t thought about why I needed her to be around. I would never have killed my wife – she was too bloody useful. And if that shocks you, Miss Prim––’ he turned back to me, ‘– you’re not going to like this. When I met Vita, I wasn’t even attracted to her. She was overweight, she had bad skin and her eyesight was terrible. I did like her money, and the fact that she worshipped me.’ He said it in a completely matter-of-fact way, as if it was entirely reasonable. ‘I didn’t know why she was so keen on me. Then she got pregnant with the twins and I realised what she’d been after all along. What could I do but go along with it? The babies were going to need a father.’
And you could get your hands on all the lovely money at the same time
, I filled in silently. ‘Vita really put in the effort. She knew she had to sort out her appearance, so she lost weight and got her eyes and skin lasered. She also knew I wasn’t going to be the most hands-on dad in the world. She saw where Miranda had gone wrong and she wasn’t going to make the same mistakes, so she devoted herself to making my life easier and keeping the twins happy. She never asked me for anything. She strove to be the perfect wife, and as far as I was concerned, she succeeded.’

‘This is very moving stuff,’ Derwent commented. ‘But you’re not getting paid by the hour here.’

‘I’m getting to the point. I had nothing to gain from Vita dying. The only thing I’ve got out of it is a headache. I can’t leave Lydia with her aunt indefinitely, more’s the pity, and she’s clearly not able to look after herself. So now I need to find someone to keep an eye on her or I won’t be able to do my job. Really, at her age, she should be able to be more independent.’

‘Laura was independent, wasn’t she?’ Derwent said softly. ‘That’s how she was able to have a boyfriend.’

‘Neither of the girls had boyfriends.’

‘That’s what Lydia told me,’ I said. ‘But Laura did.’

‘She wasn’t a virgin, Mr Kennford. In fact, she was a very experienced young lady, based on the pictures we found of her. Up to all sorts of things.’ Derwent was enjoying this.

The colour had gone from Kennford’s face again, but this time it was anger, not shock that had bleached his skin.

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘Sex. All kinds of sex. All kinds of positions. It was an education for me, looking through the pictures, let me tell you. I think I could probably qualify as a gynaecologist now.’ Derwent settled himself against the window ledge. ‘Amazing to think she had done so much when she was only fifteen.’

‘I’ll
kill
you.’ I don’t think Kennford was aware of what he’d said. His hands were bunched into fists, shaking slightly as the adrenalin coursed through him.

‘I’m just telling you what you didn’t notice. Any idea who the boyfriend was? Or boyfriends, I suppose. Just because we only have pictures of one doesn’t mean that there weren’t a few. Taking after your good self, perhaps.’ Derwent laughed. ‘We used to call them “ceiling inspectors” when I was in school. You know, flat on their backs most of the time, staring up at the ceiling while they were getting pounded by someone or other. They probably just call them sluts now.’

‘Don’t talk about her that way.’ Kennford stepped towards Derwent, closing the distance between them.

‘It’s a touchy subject,’ Derwent agreed. ‘Hard to think about your own child like that. Especially if you’d fooled yourself that she was innocent.’

‘Josh.’ Godley spoke quietly, without the edge that would have called Derwent off. It was his way of staying
on
Kennford’s side while letting his DI do the dirty work. Which, as it happened, Derwent was more than happy to do.

‘Must be a bit of a shock. But, according to you, sex isn’t a big deal, is it? It’s just something that happens.’ He waited a second.
It’s all in the timing, Maeve
. ‘Happened to her a lot, evidently.’

Kennford lunged, aiming a punch at Derwent’s face. He sidestepped it and caught Kennford’s fist as it shot past him, using the momentum to twist him around and pushing his hand up between his shoulder blades. I squeaked and jumped out of their path as they reeled around the room. The last time I’d got caught up in one of Derwent’s little scraps, I’d ended up needing to go to hospital. It wasn’t something I was keen to repeat. Derwent rammed Kennford against the wall, leaning in close to speak into his ear.

‘Watch the window, mate. I don’t want to fall out, do you?’

Kennford responded with a string of expletives that were barely comprehensible. ‘Bastard’ was a word that recurred.

Derwent kept him pressed up against the wall. ‘Calm down. I don’t want to arrest you for assault on a police officer, but I will.’

‘You wouldn’t get it to court,’ Kennford choked out, kicking back.

‘You reckon?’ Derwent gave him a shake, like a terrier with a rat. ‘You need to get your priorities straight, Mr Kennford. You keep giving us just enough, or what you think is just enough. You haven’t been honest with us. Maybe you don’t remember what that’s like. Let me explain. Whatever you’re trying to hide, we will find out what it is. We’re only interested in catching the person who did this to your family, but it makes me very curious indeed that you don’t seem to feel the same way.’ Another
shake.
‘Don’t underestimate us just because you’ve spent your career tying coppers in knots. Don’t think we’re idiots. And don’t think you’re going to get away with lying to me because I will not stop until I find out what it is you’re lying about, and why, and you will regret it, Mr Kennford. You’ll wish you’d never started this, and it will be too late.’ He stepped back, taking some of the pressure off so Kennford could breathe. ‘Talk to us now and we’ll forget this ever happened.’

Kennford struggled free, turning round to face Derwent, his face flooded red from anger and embarrassment. The door to the room was open again, I realised, and fully occupied. In the foreground there were two young men who had to be junior clerks, and the receptionist. Behind them, in dark suits, there were more than a few barristers, male and female. All had the same expression on their faces: horror mixed with glee. A genuine fight involving a senior member of chambers: I was surprised no one had thought of selling tickets. Kennford glared at them, straightening his shirt where it had pulled to one side, then turned back to Derwent.

‘I don’t appreciate the threats. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve answered your questions. If you’re not happy with the answers, you need to think about whether you’re asking the right ones.’

‘Everything’s always someone else’s fault, isn’t it?’ Derwent shook his head. ‘You’ve spent too much time with criminals, Mr Kennford.’

‘What happened to my family isn’t my fault,’ he said hotly.

A mild commotion outside the room turned out to be the chief clerk elbowing his way through the crowd outside the door. ‘Is everything all right, Mr Kennford?’

The interruption gave Kennford a crucial couple of seconds to recover his temper, and an approximation of his earlier easy manner.

‘Fine, Alan. Inspector Derwent was just trying to get a reaction out of me. And succeeded,’ he said, with a thin smile. ‘For which I apologise.’

‘No need to apologise to me. I’ve had worse.’ Derwent stuck his hands in his pockets. He looked remarkably pleased with himself.

‘Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.’ Kennford turned to Godley. ‘Can I assume this interview is now over?’

‘I think we’re done for the moment.’

‘In that case––’ He pivoted on the spot and punched Derwent, catching him full on the jaw and sending him sprawling on the floor, unable to get his hands free in time to break his fall. ‘That’s for insulting my daughter.’

It wasn’t often that Derwent got what was coming to him but when it happened, by God it was fun to watch.