by Clare Chase
Shortly after one, Seb called and asked me to go to his office.
‘Thanks for coming,’ he said as I closed the door behind me. ‘Just a couple of things. Firstly, I’m afraid I’ve got more news on Farron. The logistics guys are downstairs getting those paintings for Lawrence Conran packaged up. One of them noticed a man hanging round in the back lane. From the description I think it’s him.’ He looked up at me. ‘The lads went and told him to get lost, and now he knows he’s been seen he’ll probably leave it. All the same, I think you should take a taxi back tonight. Just use the company account.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Yes you can, and I’m telling you to. I don’t want him anywhere near you.’
I drew in a breath. Perhaps it was simpler just to agree, and maybe it would give my nerves the chance to settle. ‘Okay then,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
‘And if you notice anything out of the ordinary, you’re to call me, okay? I may have failed Julia, but I’m not going to fail you.’
‘Okay.’
His talk of failing Julia suddenly made me think of Mel again.
‘Seb,’ I said and he looked up. ‘There’s something I forgot to ask you. In amongst everything else that’s been going on it seemed unimportant, but now it’s come back to me.’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Take a seat and tell me what it is.’
I dropped into a chair. ‘I almost had dinner with Mel the other night.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘That wasn’t something I was expecting to hear.’
‘Alicia was due to meet up with her and she let on that Mel had an exciting new project in the offing. I was quite keen to interview her about it and Alicia, in her own sweet way, decided it would be absolutely fine for me to just muscle in on their evening and ask about the interview then and there.’
‘You’ve got to learn to stand up to her one day you know, Anna.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s a bit sad really. But anyway, I went along to see what Mel had to say.’
‘And she was cagey?’
‘Not just cagey, Seb. It was really embarrassing actually. She cut me dead. Saw me across the crowded restaurant, stopped in her tracks and refused to come any closer.’
Seb frowned. ‘Really? I’m sorry. That must have been awkward.’
I nodded. ‘She ended up asking Alicia to get me to go home and effectively hid in the ladies’ loo until I’d complied.’
‘And you wonder why we divorced?’
I grinned. ‘I was at a loss. I haven’t done anything to offend her, have I?’
‘Certainly not that I know of,’ he said. After a pause he added, ‘I suppose it may not help, the fact that you’re working here.’
‘How d’you mean?’
Seb wasn’t meeting my eye. ‘I think Mel always felt a bit left out when you and the rest of the gang were around. It was almost as though she thought I was closer to you lot than I was to her, at least at the beginning …’
My mind went back to the time just after Julia had died; a time when it now seemed likely Seb was already in a relationship with Mel. ‘She didn’t ever know,’ I began. ‘I mean, well, she didn’t ever know about what happened with us, did she?’
There was a long pause. ‘She might have had some idea,’ Seb said.
I looked across at him and he sighed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I’m being evasive, aren’t I? The truth is she did make some comment that made me think she was jealous of you in particular, yes. She noticed I spent a lot of time with you just after … Well, you know, just after Julia.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Obviously that was before Mel and I got together, but it doesn’t mean she wasn’t already interested. I think later on she wished it had been her I’d automatically turned to.’
I watched him as he spoke, watched him as he told me he and Mel weren’t together when we’d had our affair. He wouldn’t admit anything to me, not even now.
And why had Seb turned to me, rather than Mel, when they were already an item? Guilt, perhaps? Maybe, just after Julia’s death he couldn’t face revisiting the woman he’d been cheating with when his regular girlfriend had topped herself. I found myself shivering.
Seb hadn’t noticed my reaction to his words. ‘The other reason I wanted to see you,’ he was saying, ‘was about your email.’
For a second I couldn’t think which email he meant.
‘I’ll get back to you on the various queries you had,’ he went on. ‘I just need to have a quick word with a couple of people first. But I wondered what made you ask about Maxwell-Evans? I haven’t seen him in ages.’
I paused for a second, wrong-footed. I must have been mistaken about the man I’d seen going into his office then. I’d been quite convinced it had been him, but then again, I’d only seen him for a short time that day, in the foyer and the corridor. And if Seb hadn’t seen him recently then that, in turn, meant Radley had definitely lied to me, making her secret meeting all the more odd. It was probably time to tell Seb I’d seen them together.
I took a deep breath, but as I opened my mouth I happened to look up and realised that Radley was standing right outside Seb’s glass-walled office, clearly waiting for us to finish so that she could nip in for a word. If I dropped her in it now, he’d have an immediate opportunity to tax her with questions, and it would be quite clear I’d been telling tales.
After an awkward pause, I came to a decision. ‘Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw him the other day. I’d almost forgotten he existed.’
I didn’t quite manage to meet his eye as I spoke, and I was sure he knew there was more to tell.
Radley pushed past me as I left the room.
I took a taxi home as Seb had instructed, and we were driving through Bloomsbury when I realised how close we were to Mel’s place. I had the sudden, possibly mad, urge to go and see her. I hated the idea of her thinking I’d knowingly had an affair with Seb when she was already on the scene and the solution of having it out with her presented itself. It was the one part of the many things that were happening that I might be able to sort out. I didn’t like having bad blood between us. Also her extreme reaction still seemed odd. If there was more to it than simple jealousy, then I wanted to know.
I looked up her address on my phone. ‘Actually,’ I said to the driver, ‘could you just take me to Sutton Square instead? Number eleven please.’
As he turned the corner I peered for the right house, but he knew the square better than I did. ‘It’s over there,’ he said, ‘next to the postbox.’
We drew nearer and, at that moment, I saw someone coming out of her house. ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘Could you just pull over here a second please?’
The driver sighed, obviously losing patience with my whims. I sat and watched from the car as Darrick slid into his coat and walked off down a side street.
‘Do you still want number eleven?’ said the driver, yawning. ‘Or is it back to Hampstead after all?’
I could see Mel at one of the front windows, looking out at Darrick as he moved away. She was impassive, just standing still, staring into the night. What the hell had he been doing there?
‘Back to Hampstead after all please,’ I said, and the driver sighed again and put the car into first gear.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I stayed in my room for most of Saturday, wanting to be alone with the thoughts of all that had happened that week.
No wonder Seb had latched onto the idea of Julia’s death being murder rather than suicide. It let him off the hook if it had been. The guilt brought on by staying in London with Mel, in preference to seeing Julia, must have been almost overwhelming. But was he right about someone having killed her?
If the artworks she’d had were genuine it would certainly have provided a motive. I flipped open my laptop lid and Googled Goya. I found a set of three of his drawings had sold at Christie’s for over £2m. It was a tidy sum, but would seem more substantial to some people than to others. My mind flipped back again to Darrick’s flat.
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br /> The fact that he appeared to have thought the works were the real thing threw suspicion on to him, but then someone else could have come to the same conclusion too. Julia might well have talked to other people about them – or someone could have stumbled across them after she’d died.
I tried to think who might have had cause to go into the house. The police certainly and then, at some stage, whoever was put in charge of clearing the place. Surely there was an opportunity there for some underhand worker to spot the undiscovered goldmine in Julia’s attic.
My mind spooled back through what Darrick had said to me: it’s always been rather hard to know whose side you’re on. What had he meant by that? If he’d murdered Julia and thought I was onto him, he’d hardly expect there to be any question about me being on his side.
And what had he been doing at Mel’s? If Seb’s theory was right he’d be finding out if she knew anything that might prove his guilt. Well, that made no sense at all. He’d hardly be rocking up at her house and barging in there, if that was what he’d been up to.
By six, I still held the same basic opinion that Seb was wrong. And I didn’t buy what Sally said either. I wasn’t just going back for more, like a glutton for punishment. I needed to know more, because there was more to this situation than I’d understood.
I looked at my mobile. Should I call him and tell him everything that had happened? I had a feeling that was the only way I’d find out what was going on for sure.
I picked the phone up, ready to dial, when suddenly it rang, almost making me drop it. For a second I thought it was going to be him but, looking at the screen, I saw it was Terry.
‘Anna, I’m glad I’ve got you,’ he said.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Hopefully nothing. I’m not sure. Did you tell Seb about the photo of Julia in Darrick Farron’s flat in the end?’
‘Yes,’ I said, leaving out the fact that I’d left it several days. ‘Seb’s got his own ideas about why Darrick’s interested in her.’
‘Oh?’
‘He believes he had something to do with her death, and that he’s snooping round, trying to check for any evidence that might still incriminate him.’
‘Bloody hellfire,’ said Terry. ‘That’s quite an accusation.’
‘I had much the same response,’ I said. ‘But a contact of Seb’s says Darrick knew Julia had some potentially valuable artworks stashed away somewhere: ones that belonged to her parents. Seb thinks theft was his motive.’
Terry let out a long breath. ‘Well I would have said it all sounded crazy – especially after all these years – except what I’m going to tell you might add weight to Seb’s case.’
I was suddenly conscious of the beat of my heart, pulsing against my ribs, and sank down onto my bed. ‘What is it?’
‘An hour or so ago a man came round to our place. I wasn’t there – I’m still at the restaurant on Fitch Street now – but Steve let him in and called me after to let me know.’ He paused. ‘Anna, this man told Steve he was a relative of Julia’s.’
I caught my breath. ‘What did he look like?’
‘Tall, broad, dark hair, blue eyes. Darrick?’
‘It does sound like him.’
‘He said he was visiting from overseas, and was hoping to talk to people who’d known Julia.’ He sighed. ‘Steve was sympathetic of course. He explained I’d known Julia but that I was working and wouldn’t be back until late. So this guy asked if there was anyone else he could call on to fill in time. Steve suggested Jez and gave him his mobile number.’
‘He’d be lucky to get Jez,’ I said.
‘He was lucky,’ Terry said. ‘I called Jez as soon as Steve told me, and he’d already spoken with this guy on the phone. Said he’d passed on what he could remember, told him what a nice girl Julia had been and all that kind of thing. And then the guy asked if Jez had ever met any other friends of Julia’s.’
‘And had he?’ I asked, thinking back to what the shopkeeper at Henley’s had said.
‘When Jez and I went up there that time there was a bloke Julia had made friends with. Sort of friends, anyway. She liked to go out on Derwentwater and this man owned a couple of boats and had taught her a bit of sailing. When Jez and I were there he let us have the boats again and taught us a bit too.’
I could hear him let his breath out for a moment as he smiled at the memory. ‘Jez was crap. He kept falling in. Anyway, when I called Jez he told me he’d told this guy about him. His name was Toby and he was based by the lake. That was all Jez could remember. I’d almost forgotten his existence honestly. It was such a long time ago, but when Jez mentioned him to me this evening the memories came back.
‘I’ve got a feeling he was one of the few locals at Julia’s funeral. I seem to remember Seb mentioning some bloke, and at the time, I wondered if he was a bit jealous.’
‘So Jez put this guy – probably Darrick – onto Toby?’
‘That’s right,’ Terry said. ‘And Jez said he seemed very grateful. I don’t know what this man Darrick’s up to, Anna, but I’ll let Seb know, for what it’s worth.’
I paced around the room for a while, wondering what it all meant. Julia certainly hadn’t had any living relatives apart from the aunt in Aberdeen, a detail I’d remembered but Jez clearly hadn’t. It seemed quite obvious really that it had been Darrick who had called on Steve and that, once again, he’d been lying.
I picked up my phone again, but I was far more hesitant now than I had been. Could it really be that Darrick was dangerous? But even if he was, I could still find out more by seeing him again than by holding back. And, after all, if I didn’t go to his flat, but stuck to some kind of public venue like The Midnight Hour, I couldn’t come to any harm.
I debated for another ten minutes before I keyed in the text. ‘Need 2 understand what u meant when u asked whose side I was on,’ I put. ‘Can we talk?’ I sent it off into the ether, thinking he probably wouldn’t even get back to me.
In fact, I’d only got as far as putting the kettle on when my phone let out a double beep. I opened the message.
‘Have something 2 deal with,’ he’d written. ‘That should round off a job & then we can talk.’
I felt a shiver run through me and goosebumps rise on my arms. After Terry’s call I had guessed Darrick’s next move would be to try to talk to Julia’s old sailing instructor, but the words he used chilled me. Why put “something to deal with” rather than “someone to see”?
And now Sally’s words circled in my head. I was going to go back for more when any normal person would turn away.
Chapter Forty
Darrick’s text made me look again at what I was planning. On Monday, he would probably call me and off I would go with him and, whatever he said, I still wouldn’t really know if I was being fed a line. And then what? How could I go on seeing him with something like this hanging over us?
Sally had certainly been right in one sense: whenever I’d tried to find out what Darrick was up to by asking him, I was left with more questions than answers.
Of course, the simplest thing would be to do what Seb said and keep well out of it. But however much reason told me to forget it, instinct kept drawing me back. The text was another matter though. For the first time I genuinely wondered if Seb could be right.
Before I went any further I needed to find out for certain, and that meant discovering the truth for myself.
Seb’s ideas had seemed far-fetched – and they jarred with the facts – but I could still believe there was something for me to find out that would cause me hurt. If that was the case, I had better face up to it. At least I’d know the truth and could lick my wounds and then get on with my life, rather than obsessing about Darrick.
The most obvious port of call was Mel. He’d been with her, and I had wanted to make contact with her anyway. It was really a question of whether she’d talk to me; I wondered what would give me the best chance of a hearing. In the end I decided to text first and then call.
If she read my message at least it would put my approach to her in context.
‘Wd like 2 call u soon 2 straighten out a misunderstanding.’ I put. ‘Also I badly need yr help.’ I decided not to give more detail, hoping that I’d raise enough questions in her mind to mean she’d hear me out.
It was time for supper and I decided I’d eat first and then call but, predictably, I wasn’t very hungry. In the end I had a sandwich, chewing mechanically, the bread feeling dry in my mouth. I knew I was stretching it out; not wanting to pick up the phone. I was only halfway through it when I heard a text come in.
‘Don’t call, Anna,’ Mel had typed. ‘If u do I won’t answer. I’m sorry.’
But if she was sorry, why wouldn’t she talk to me?
I went up to my room, still with the plan of looking into Darrick’s actions hot in my head. My only other lead was in Cumbria. If I really wanted to take matters into my own hands I needed to follow him up there and talk to Toby too. If I could find him.
I sat in my room thinking, but only for five minutes. Either I could hang around for the rest of the weekend with my stomach in knots or I could go for it, and I’d already decided I’d had enough.
Within fifteen minutes I was packing. It was far too late to set off that night, but I wanted to make an early start on Sunday morning. For a moment I wondered about getting back in time for work on Monday, but if necessary I would call the office and explain. When it came down to it, this was more important.
By 6 a.m. I’d got all the clobber I might need into Alicia’s hallway. It mainly consisted of jumpers and waterproofs, although I had also taken my overnight stuff and packed a pair of walking boots in a carrier bag, just in case. The weather in London at least was crisp and sunny.
I’d had my car parked in a residents’ bay, since Alicia had given me a permit. I was just opening the front door to start ferrying my stuff out onto the street when I dropped the bag with the boots in it, knocking the umbrella stand and letting out a clatter loud enough to wake the whole house.
I set things to rights and was about to dash out to avoid any questions when I heard Sally’s basement door open. ‘Good grief,’ she said. ‘You’re up early. I thought we had burglars.’ She clutched her dressing gown around her. ‘Where are you off to?’
