‘Eh?’
‘Or did you mix it? Speed, charlie, any little recreational helpers?’
‘Drugs, you mean? No, I don’t do drugs,’ he said, and the indifference of his voice convinced. If Chattie had been selling, it was not to Toby Harkness.
‘You’ve been depressed,’ Atherton suggested, moving out of the way of the smoke, which always seemed to seek him out like a friendly cat when he was in the vicinity of a smoker.
‘Yeah,’ said Harkness, sinking lower in his seat, his chin slumping towards his chest. ‘Well, you know. Christ, she’s dead. What d’you think?’
‘You were depressed before that, though. You’ve been unhappy for quite a while.’
Even this minimal sympathy brought tears to Harkness’s eyes.God, he was young, Atherton thought. The slight chubbiness of his face was a boy’s, his self-obsession was a student’s. He had no curiosity about Atherton or why he was here; he was thinking about his own sorrows, and as he thought, the tears oozed out and down his unshaven cheeks.
‘I loved her. I would have died for her, she knew that.’ He had a very slight Bristol accent, a rolling over of the vowels, which made him sound even younger than he was. ‘But she kept pushing me away. And then she said she wouldn’t see me again, except for business. How could I live like that, seeing her but never being allowed to touch her?’
‘You and Chattie had an affair, didn’t you?’ Atherton said, as kindly as he could, given that everything about this young man irritated him. Harkness stubbed out his cigarette and, still breathing out the last mouthful of smoke, reached for another one and put it between his lips. Atherton watched him in amazement. How could he smoke when he depended on his lungs for his livelihood?
‘It wasn’t an affair. We were in love,’ Harkness said. ‘The first time I saw her, the first time I played with Baroque, I knew then. She was so lovely. The most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I didn’t believe at first anything could happen. I mean, not with me. I’ve never been very good with girls. I didn’t dare ask her for ages. But I could see she was attracted to me. She always came over and talked to me. When we were in a group, she always sat by me, and was nice to me and made me laugh.’
Sorry for you, Atherton thought. Saw you were shy and tried to bring you out of yourself. He remembered Slider saying once that it was funny how often shy people turned out to be terribly conceited underneath. Harkness saw Chattie’s kindness and took it for appreciation of his own fine worth.
‘Then it sort of happened one day. We were doing a gig down in Hastings, at the White Rock, and we all stayed overnight, at this weird bed-and-breakfast place – all except Jasper, who stayed with a friend. Well, we had some drinks in Trish’s room, and then went to bed. Chattie’s room and mine were both on the top floor, and we went up the stairs together. We got to the top landing. She was laughing and suddenly it came over me in a wave and I just grabbed her and kissed her. And she kissed me back. And then, I don’t know, we were, like, swept away by passion. We went into her room and—’
He stopped, gazing down a long corridor at memory, his lips parting in remembered rapture.
‘It was wonderful,’ he resumed at last. And the next day, when we went back to London, I went to her house and we made love all night. I told her I loved her. We talked about marriage. I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.’
I bet she was pleased to hear that, Atherton thought.
‘It was wonderful at first. I didn’t get to see as much of her as I wanted, because she was often working, and I was too, and it was hard to get our schedules together. But when we did get together it was wonderful. Only she wanted me to keep it a secret. She said it would upset the band if anyone knew about us. I didn’t see that. But she said there was a, like, dynamic, about the group, and her and me being together would disturb it. So I went along with it. Well, I thought, they’ll know all right when we get married.’ He stopped and drew on his cigarette.
‘Did she say she would marry you?’ Atherton asked.
He scowled. ‘Yes, she did,’ he said defiantly. Afterwards she said she never had, but I know what I know. I just don’t know what went wrong. I wanted to see her more often, that’s all. She said she couldn’t manage it. She was busy. I said why didn’t we move in together, and then we could see each other all the time? But she said no, and then she got cross with me for asking. I said, I love you, and she said, I never asked you to. I mean, what sort of a thing is that to say?’
‘Terrible,’ Atherton said, shaking his head sympathetically.
‘I said, “I know you love me, why are you treating me like this?” She said she couldn’t see me any more. She said I was too intense. “Well,” I said, “if you love someone, you are intense, aren’t you?” I started to think she was seeing someone else, but she said she wasn’t – and, anyway, if she was too busy to see me, how could she have had time for anyone else?’
What a plonker, Atherton thought with amazement.
‘I told her I’d kill myself if she refused to see me again. She got angry about that, and said it was blackmail, and I said it wasn’t, it was just that I loved her. How can love be blackmail? Anyway, she said it would be a wicked waste of my talent if I were to kill myself. She said I was the best oboist she’d ever known. That’s how I knew she still did love me, really. She wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t. I just don’t understand why she broke it off.’ He paused, smoking hard and slowly. His face darkened as he stared through the smoke at nothing. ‘At the end, the last time I saw her, she said if I didn’t leave her alone, she wouldn’t see me or talk to me at all, not even at the band. She said she’d stop coming to any of the band things.’ The tears that had subsided welled up again.
‘This was in the pub, the Anchor, on Tuesday night?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, not interested in how Atherton knew. ‘I’d been phoning her all day, but she was out, and when I tried her mobile it was on voice-mail. She always answered her mobile normally, so I knew she was avoiding me. So I sat in my car at the end of her road where I could see the house, so I’d know when she got home. And when she did, I rang her again and said I had to see her. I said I’d meet her in the Anchor. I told her if she wouldn’t see me I’d cut my throat.’
‘What did she say when you said that?’
‘She just said, “No, you won’t.” But she sounded worried. Anyway, she said she’d see me for five minutes, at seven o’clock. When she came in, she was all smiling and lovely and so nice to me, just like she used to be, and I thought we could patch things up. She’d said five minutes but it was at least half an hour, so she must have been enjoying my company, mustn’t she? But then she said this was the last time she’d see me alone, that she was serious, that there could be nothing more between us, that I must really leave her alone or she’d drop the band altogether and it’d be my fault. I couldn’t believe it. So then I asked her, is there somebody else? And she looked surprised a bit, and then she said there was, and she laughed. She laughed!’ He choked on his smoke. ‘I almost hated her then.’
‘Almost?’ Atherton urged, but gently. This was promising stuff. But Harkness said no more. He smoked and brooded. ‘Do you know who it was she was seeing?’ he asked at last.
‘Yeah,’ said Harkness, his voice so low it almost went off the scale. ‘I didn’t then, but I found out. After she left the pub, I went back to my car, but I didn’t drive away. I stayed watching her house. I was thinking I’d maybe give her time to calm down and then I’d go and talk to her again. But then after a bit I saw him arrive. He knocked at the door and she let him in and a minute later they both came out and walked off together. Arm in arm. And when she let him in, she kissed him. So then I knew.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Jasper.’ It was almost a sob. ‘How could she prefer him to me? I mean, he’s nothing. He’s just a horn-player. And he’s never serious about anything. He wouldn’t marry her. He was always having different girls, one-night stands.
I knew he’d only end up hurting her. He’d break her heart. I couldn’t stand that.’
Atherton almost held his breath. ‘You couldn’t stand to let her get hurt. So what did you do?’
‘What could I do?’ he said.
‘Yes, what? A brave man would want to save her from that, at any price. Even if it meant—’ He left a tempting space but Harkness did not respond. ‘The thought of her having her heart broken by someone like Jasper – well, if it was me, I don’t know what I’d do. It would be the worst thing of all. Worse even than—’
This time it worked. ‘Yeah,’ Harkness said. ‘I thought that, too. I thought even death would be better than that.’ He sighed tremulously, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, reached for another cigarette.
‘So what did you do?’ Atherton urged.
‘I waited for ages, but they didn’t come back. So I went home and got drunk.’ He looked around him incuriously. ‘I’ve been drunk pretty well ever since.’
‘The next morning,’ Atherton said, ‘what did you do?’
‘Do?’ he said vaguely.
‘You’d had all night to think it over, about you and Chattie and that man. You decided you had to do something – something drastic to save her.’
Now Harkness looked at him, his eyes widening slightly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You thought it would be better, if you couldn’t have her, that no-one should have her. You knew she went running in the park every day. You thought it would be the best thing for her as well as for you if she was at peace.’
He had cottoned on now. ‘You think I killed her?’
‘You had such good reason,’ Atherton said soothingly.
‘It was the Park Killer,’ he said. ‘It was in all the papers. It was a frenzied attack, like the other ones, those other girls he killed.’
‘And where were you at eight o’clock that morning?’
‘I was here, at home. I was in bed asleep. I didn’t get up until nearly ten. I didn’t know anything about it until Marion phoned me that night. How could you think I’d kill her? I loved her.’
‘Love is sometimes the strongest reason. And you did say just now you thought death would be better.’
He stared a moment, and then said, ‘No, I meant my death. I thought I’d sooner be dead than see her with Jasper.’
And yet, of course, Atherton thought, Chattie’s death would yield the same result, with the added advantage of his being around to mourn her properly. And a man in bed, alone, has no witness to his alibi.
The CID room was full, with the firm at their desks and the extra bods from uniform they had been loaned lining the walls. Most people had plastic cups of coffee from the machine or styrofoam cups of something better from the sandwich shop by the market, and one or two had bacon rolls by way of breakfast from the same source. McLaren had two. Some were reading papers. The sun was shining away maddeningly outside the window, eager to remind everyone that it was Saturday, when ordinary mortals washed the car, had a pint down the local and watched the footy.
There was a low buzz of chat. Hart had pulled up a chair to Atherton’s desk. ‘So what happened about that bird you were dating, then?’ she asked. ‘Sue? I thought you two were serious. Some said you were gonna get married.’
‘Which some was that?’ Atherton asked, his nostrils flaring as he tried to work out what her perfume was.
‘Oh, stuff gets around,’ Hart said airily. ‘So, what happened?’
‘She dumped me,’ Atherton said, going for the sympathy vote. He looked full into Hart’s eyes with a tragic air. ‘Hell of a shock to the system, I can tell you. First knock-back since I joined this firm, not counting Norma.’
‘What are you saying about me?’ Swilley said sharply, catching her name. She had been trying not to eavesdrop, but Atherton had meant her to hear that bit.
‘He says you wouldn’t have ’im, Norm,’ Hart said cheerfully.
‘I’d rather be the love-toy of a Greek army battalion,’ said Swilley, going back to her paper.
‘Actually,’ Atherton said loftily, ‘Ms Swilley doesn’t have what I want in a woman.’
‘What’s that?’ said Hart. ‘Low standards?’
‘God, you’re funny,’ Atherton said. ‘So, what are you doing tonight?’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve got no date?’
‘I thought I’d give you first refusal. How would you like to have rampant sex at my place?’
‘Well, I dunno,’ Hart said, pondering. ‘I really ought to get home. I’ve got a banana going black. I shouldn’t leave it alone for too long.’
McLaren called across, ‘Oy, Jim, I should watch it if I was you. Yvonne Collins is after your blood.’
‘I don’t know how he’s got the energy,’ Mackay said wonderingly. ‘I mean, he’s not as young as he was. Must be the Viagra.’
‘Here,’ said McLaren, ‘did you hear about the load of Viagra got nicked? They’re looking for a hardened criminal.’
There were groans. ‘Old one, Maurice!’
‘Got whiskers on it.’
But McLaren looked round grinning anyway, pleased with himself.
‘Who’s Yvonne Collins?’ Hart asked.
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about her?’ Mackay said. ‘She hadn’t been here five minutes before—’
Slider walked in at that point. ‘There’s so much gossip in here, you should all have dryers on your heads,’ he said. ‘Can we settle down, please? There’s a lot to get through.’
Quiet descended, and between them Slider and Atherton reported the new information gained from Jasper, Jassy and Toby.
At the end of it, Swilley said, ‘So it looks as if we’ve got two possible directions. There’s Darren Barnes and the coke connection, and there’s Toby Harkness and the jealousy bit.’
‘Harkness is barely a suspect,’ Atherton said. All we’ve got against him is motive.’
‘And no alibi,’ Mackay reminded them.
‘Most of the world’s got no alibi,’ Slider said. ‘However, it is such a good motive that I think we ought to look into his background, in case he has any record of violence; and see if we can get a look round his house, to see if there are any bloodstained clothes or knives. But at the moment, Darren Barnes looks a lot more tasty.’
‘Right,’ said Mackay, ‘and the drugs thing makes more sense. The way I see it, Barnes and the victim are in business together. He supplies her with a big bag of white. Gets his girlfriend to drop it at the house. Meets her on Wednesday to collect the cash. Only she’s not got it for some reason, or she tries to stiff him, or they have a row about something else, I dunno. Anyway, he offs her and has it away on his tiny toes. Only he doesn’t want to leave all that good charlie going to waste at the victim’s house. So he goes back home that night and tells his girlfriend to go and see if it’s still there – he can’t go, you see, in case the place is being watched. She comes back saying it’s no go, there’s a copper on the door, and he takes fright, belts her one for good luck and scarpers, and he hasn’t been seen since.’
He looked round for approval at the end of this narrative, and Slider could see there was plenty of assent in the faces round the wall. It was the sort of simple tale they could all appreciate. They had seen it a dozen times before – fallings out among drug-dealers were about the commonest cause of death on the streets.
‘So, do you reckon his girlfriend was in on it?’ McLaren asked Mackay.
‘No, the way I reckon, he couldn’t have got her to go back there if she’d known anything about it. When he got home he must have realised she didn’t know her sister was dead yet, so it was worth a try to get the charlie back – especially if the reason he killed her was that she hadn’t paid him for it.’
‘But why wouldn’t he have gone straight round there after killing her?’ Hollis asked. ‘That would have been the safest time. He could have taken her door keys and let himself in.’
‘Maybe he had blood on him,’ Mackay s
aid.
‘Or maybe he had to establish an alibi,’ McLaren put in.
‘Some alibi, that no-one knows about,’ someone at the back muttered.
‘Maybe he just didn’t think of it,’ Swilley said. ‘He doesn’t sound as if he was a practised killer. He probably couldn’t think of anything but putting as much distance as possible between him and the park.’
‘It’s a nice scenario,’ Slider said, ‘but you’re forgetting one thing.’
His eye caught that of Hart, and she continued for him, as if he had asked for suggestions. ‘She wasn’t stabbed to death.’
‘In Doc Cameron’s opinion,’ Atherton said.
‘And if she was drugged,’ Hart continued, unchecked, ‘then it was premeditated, not the result of a sudden quarrel.’
‘Right,’ said Slider.
‘But, boss,’ Hart went on, ‘even if it was premeditated, it don’t mean it couldn’t’ve been Darren. Maybe he didn’t trust her, or she was threatening to cut ’im out, or shop ’im. There could’ve been a stack o’ reasons why he’d want her dead. Maybe even Jassy was in on it. We know she was wicked jealous of Chattie, plus she thought she’d been hard done by. She could’ve got Darren to kill Chattie for her.’
‘Why would he agree?’
‘Because he’s on her side. And there’d be money to come, maybe.’
‘Why did he hit her, then?’ Swilley asked.
‘To make it look as if she wasn’t in on it,’ Hart suggested. ‘She’s staying put, and the police are bound to come and interview her. It takes the suspicion off her.’
‘And puts it smack on him. She was pretty quick to finger him, by all accounts,’ said Swilley.
‘Maybe she got scared,’ Hart said.
‘This is all very well,’ Slider said, ‘but if Darren did kill Chattie for whatever reason – and I admit he sounds stupid enough to try to fake the Park Killer MO and think it would fool us – where did he get the barbiturates from?’
They all seemed to think this was a foolish question. ‘He’s in the biz, boss,’ Hart answered for them, at last. ‘He’d know where to lay his hands on the right tackle. Blimey, you can get drugs, guns and explosives on the Internet wiv a credit card these days.’
Dear Departed Page 17
