The Stranger You Know (14 page)

His silence told me I was right.

‘If you were taking her seriously, you would have gone ahead with the changes the tenants agreed to make. You would have done a proper costing and circulated it to all the residents and it is possible that not all of the security measures would have been adopted but some of them would have gone ahead. You heard she was dead and as far as you were concerned the problem had gone away.’

‘She didn’t die because the locks weren’t adequate,’ he blustered. ‘There was no sign of a break-in at the address. We were in close contact with the officers who were investigating the murder back in January and they were absolutely clear that there was no damage to the building, the locks, the doors or the windows.’

‘What about the fact that the front door lock was broken?’

‘What about it?’

‘That had been reported to you, hadn’t it? Not just by Kirsty. By the other residents. You’d had complaints, I gather, before the murder.’

‘A couple.’

‘When was the first one logged?’

‘Four days before the murder.’

‘Four days,’ I repeated. ‘And you hadn’t got it repaired.’

‘We were bringing in a technician.’

‘From where? China? While the door was broken, the tenants were at risk of burglary or worse. And Kirsty
died
.’ My voice had risen and I glanced around, suddenly self-conscious. The room had emptied out while I was talking. With the exception of the new detective, Dave Kemp, I was on my own. ‘What was the hold-up?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Pretty standard, was it?’

‘I’m not sure I should answer that.’

‘This isn’t a civil court, Mr Montrose, and you’re not in the witness box. I’m just trying to find out the facts. I’m not going to sue you on Kirsty’s behalf.’

‘There are no grounds for suing us.’ The reply came too quickly. I really doubted Kevin Montrose slept well at night.

‘Did Kirsty mention being afraid of anyone or anything in particular?’

‘No.’

‘Did she mention where she’d got this list of security measures?’

‘No.’

‘Did she mention anyone else at all? Other residents? Friends? A boyfriend?’

‘No. The police asked me all this at the time.’

‘Well, I’m asking you about it again.’

‘Is that because of the other girls?’

I didn’t answer him straight away, wondering how to play it, and he went on.

‘I saw it in the paper. Now there are three of them. Terrible, isn’t it? You know, you’re giving me shit about not having sorted out the security measures, but it seems to me the Met are more at fault than anyone.’ He was angry, and getting more confident by the second. ‘If you’d caught him back in January, two women would be alive who aren’t now. That’s a lot worse than being a bit slack about fixing a door.’ He hung up almost before he’d finished saying ‘door’, afraid that I’d find some way of hitting back so he wouldn’t get the last word.

‘Pillock,’ I said under my breath anyway and put the phone down so I could click on James Peake’s email. I’d been putting it off while I was on the phone but I hadn’t forgotten it; I’d seen it out of the corner of my eye the whole time I was enduring my conversation with Kevin Montrose. It didn’t take long to read it.

Thought we should meet up to discuss the case
.

Might be useful to talk about it one-to-one
.

JP

I felt less tense. Just a friendly invitation to go for a drink. And perhaps an indication that he felt as enthusiastic about Andy Bradbury as I did. Maybe there was something he wanted me to know about how the new inspector had been handling the investigation and he couldn’t say so directly on his work email. He’d never grass Bradbury up to a senior officer like Una Burt or God himself, no matter how annoying Bradbury was to work for. I was low enough to the bottom of the pole to be unthreatening, yet I could pass the word on to the bosses that Bradbury was out of his depth. It all made perfect sense. I rattled off a reply suggesting that we meet the following night and leaving the venue up to him. It meant we would be meeting on a Saturday, which made me slightly uneasy, but I would be working all weekend and so would he. He would know it was strictly business.

I sent the email without another thought about it, except the vague relief that I wouldn’t be left to my own company. So much for wanting to enjoy spending time alone. I checked my phone again, hoping for a message from Rob, but there was nothing. I’d had a text to say he’d arrived, but that was it so far. Punitive roaming charges meant he was unlikely to use his mobile. I couldn’t help looking, though.

‘What are you doing?’

I must have jumped a foot in the air. ‘N–nothing.’

Derwent was standing directly behind my chair. I hadn’t heard him coming; the carpet had made his footsteps completely silent. His face was shadowed, his expression equally dark, and I twisted awkwardly in my chair to keep him in view. He was looking at my desk, and the notes I had written while I was on the phone with Kevin Montrose. Kirsty’s name straggled in capitals across the top of the page, and the rest was a tangle of dates and phrases. It made sense to me, but I doubted anyone else could follow it. Nonetheless, I pulled a file across the page to hide it from Derwent’s view.

It was like snapping my fingers to wake a sleepwalker. His attention jumped to me, and his face hardened. ‘Covering up your work? Afraid I’ll copy you? Don’t tell the teacher, will you?’

‘What’s up?’ I said calmly, ignoring his tone. My heart was racing.

‘I was going to ask you the same thing. You’ve been avoiding me. Screening my calls.’

‘No, I haven’t.’

He leaned across me and snatched my phone off the desk. ‘Voicemail. No new messages, no saved messages.’ He showed me. ‘But I’ve called you eight times and left messages every time. That means you’ve been deleting them.’

‘It was an oversight.’

‘It was a big fucking mistake, I’ll tell you that for nothing.’ He leaned in and I could smell the doublemint chewing gum he liked, and something else that was sour underneath it, as if he hadn’t eaten for a while. ‘Don’t ignore me.’

‘I was busy. DCI Burt—’

‘Don’t give me that. Don’t mention her name.’ He was still leaning over me and now he knocked the file to one side so he could see my notebook again. ‘Kirsty Campbell. The girl who died in Lewisham in January. Are we investigating this now?’

‘
We
aren’t.’

He straightened up as if I’d pushed him, staring down at me with surprise and enough hurt for me to feel sorry for him, and guilty, and unsure of myself.

‘What are you saying? You are but I’m not, is that it?’

‘The boss asked me to work with Burt on it. She’s had me running around today. I didn’t have time to call you.’ And I hadn’t wanted to face his anger. It was like standing at the door of a blast furnace. The heat of it was withering. He stared at me for what felt like endless seconds.

‘Whose idea was it? Who cut me out?’ He grabbed the arms of my chair and turned it around so he was right in my face. ‘Who told you not to talk to me?’

‘I did.’

I had never, ever been so pleased to hear Una Burt’s voice. She was at the door to the office, quite far away, but there was something reassuringly calm about the way she said it.

‘You.’ Derwent had turned to see her but he was still leaning towards me, his face inches from mine. I pressed my head back against the seat, trying to make more space between us.

‘That’s right. If you want to intimidate anyone, try me.’ She stomped in and across to her desk, putting her handbag down on it with a thud. She wasn’t even looking at Derwent any more. She’d turned her back on him, which was more than I’d risk when his eyes were so wild. At long last, he straightened up and I sucked air into aching lungs, realising I’d been unable to breathe while he was in my face. Behind her, Dave Kemp shrugged into his coat and headed for the door, careful not to look at any of us as he mumbled a goodbye. Sensible not to want a ringside seat. I wished I could do the same.

‘What gave
you
the right to tell
her
not to answer my calls?’

‘She’s engaged with a sensitive case. It wouldn’t be appropriate for her to speak to you about it.’

‘I work with Kerrigan. We’ve got cases together. And I know all about sensitive cases. I know all about this one.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He came out from behind my desk and started moving towards her with that faltering sleepwalker step that told me he was blinded by rage. The red mist. A killing fury. Call it what you wanted, but it was controlling Derwent now, making the decisions for him. His rational mind had stepped out of the building, along with Una Burt’s sense of danger, apparently. I stood up too, not really sure what I could do. Clobber him with something, maybe. I started to look around for a suitably heavy object and came up short. The stapler wasn’t going to do it. I really wished I had my Asp, the extendable baton that I’d used to win friends and influence people while I was on the street. Twenty-one inches of steel tended to end arguments pretty quickly.

‘Was this your idea?’ Derwent demanded, still getting closer to Una Burt, who was reading a file, completely unconcerned, as if nothing was going on. ‘Was it your suggestion to shut me out?’

‘It was Godley, if you must know.’

‘No, it wasn’t.’ Derwent stopped.

‘It was.’ She twisted around to look at him and I felt even more uncomfortable when I saw how much she was enjoying this. ‘He was quite clear about it. You’re to be kept well away from this investigation.’

‘Why?’ The way he said it was almost plaintive.

‘I think you know.’

I heard footsteps in the corridor and Godley appeared in the doorway. He stopped dead. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Just finding out why I’m not in the gang, boss.’ The bitterness in Derwent’s voice was searing.

‘It’s not like that.’

‘It is,’ Derwent insisted.

‘I have a small team working on this inquiry. I don’t need another DI.’

‘But you need Kerrigan. And
her
.’ He pointed at Una Burt.

‘And Harry Maitland. And one or two others.’ Godley moved a little closer to Derwent. ‘I’ve got officers coming out of my ears on this one. I don’t want to take people like you away from the other cases that are going on. They matter too.’

‘I’ve asked you. I’ve
begged
you.’

‘Not going to happen. And you need to leave now, before you make a serious mistake.’ Godley took another step forward. Because he was so civilised, I tended to overlook the fact that he was tall and physically fit. He’d done his time on the street too, back in the day. Standing near Derwent, his eyes watchful, Godley looked as if he could handle himself in a fight. I saw him shift his feet to adjust his balance and I suddenly felt sorry for Derwent – sorry and scared.

‘It’s all right,’ I said, not really knowing what I was going to say next.

Godley’s attention switched to me for a second before he focused again on Derwent. ‘Go into my office, Maeve.’

‘Sir, I hadn’t returned DI Derwent’s calls. I hadn’t been communicating with him. He needed to talk to me about the Gordon case, urgently.’ Derwent was staring at me as if he’d never seen me before or heard the name Gordon. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, tailing off.
Please take the hint. Take the exit strategy I’m giving you. Everyone knows what I just said is total bullshit, but it means you can keep your dignity at the very least
.

Derwent looked back to Godley and it was as if something in him had died. Not the anger. More like his pride. His voice was dull. ‘That’s right. I needed to talk to her about the Gordon case. Follow things up.’

‘Another time.’ Godley’s face was unreadable. ‘Maeve, go and wait in my office and shut the door. DCI Burt and I want a word with you before you go home.’

I took the long way round rather than walk past Derwent. When I’d closed the door I sank into a chair, feeling like I wanted to cry. I didn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t know why Derwent was behaving that way, or what they were saying to him. Through a gap in the blinds I could see the three of them standing in a tight little triangle as Godley talked to Derwent. He was looking at the floor, not at the superintendent. While the boss was still speaking, Derwent turned and walked out of the room. Burt and Godley stood together, watching him go. By the time they turned back and started to walk towards the office, I was far away from the gap in the blinds, leafing through the newspaper from the day before as if I was completely engrossed. I doubted I was fooling anyone.

‘Right, Maeve. Tell me about Anna’s workplace. What did you find out?’ Godley was aiming for a normal tone of voice but it came out too hearty, too honest and direct.
You can trust me …
Except, of course, I couldn’t.

I explained again about the trail of cookies on her computer leading to the Met website. A meaningful look passed between Burt and Godley so quickly that I almost missed it. But I didn’t.

‘The tech guys have already recovered the computer. They’re talking to the IT department at the office to see if there’s any other record of what people have been browsing on their work computers,’ Burt added.

‘There’s bound to be in a place like that, I should think.’ Godley nodded. ‘Good. What else? You went to Lewisham, didn’t you? Anything new?’

‘Nothing on the book club, but I did find out that Kirsty Campbell was planning to meet a man a few days before she died and she was worried about her home security.’ I told them about meeting Jonty, and the conversation I’d had with Montrose.

‘Do we think she was being stalked?’ Burt’s eyebrows were drawn down in a thick, bristling line. I found I couldn’t quite look at her. No one had mentioned Derwent, but I couldn’t get his shattered demeanour out of my mind.

‘It’s possible. But according to Montrose, she was calm on the phone.’

‘Check with Groves. See if her friends and colleagues had picked up on anything. I’m sure they’ve asked the question already.’

‘Even if they’ve done nothing else.’ Burt sniffed. ‘Maeve’s been following up leads for half a day and she’s already found out more than they have in nine months.’