Kiss Me When I'm Dead

by Dominic Piper

  ‘His name is Alistair Bellamy. He’s from Ascot, he’s forty-two and he runs his own business, importing gourmet foods from Europe and elsewhere. He’s very successful, very handsome and drives a Mercedes E63 AMG Estate.’

  ‘I want to have his babies.’

  She laughs. ‘He also doesn’t exist. I made him up to stop Fisher and all the rest of them hitting on me. The engagement ring I just saw you looking for is my grandmother’s on the Finnish side.’

  ‘And does this ploy work?’

  ‘So far. They’re a pretty conservative lot and a woman who’s engaged is out of bounds for them, despite their rampant sexism. In fact, I think that sexism is part of it and has worked against them in this case. I also think they’re kind of afraid because my fake fiancé is rich and drives a Merc. Also, Mr Raleigh finds me invaluable and doesn’t want to lose me because of any sexual harassment incidents or lawsuits. He’s edgy about anything that might put him in the public eye.’

  ‘So what sort of gourmet foods does your fiancé import?’

  We turn into Ronchetti’s and take a seat at the bar. She leaves the ordering to me, so I ask the bargirl for two Black Velvets while they sort us out a table. Anjukka runs a hand through her hair and drinks half of hers in one go. I like her.

  ‘How long have you worked for Raleigh?’

  ‘Two years. A little over two years. It’s very good pay. I’ve made myself indispensable. Officially, I’m his PA, but I used to be a paralegal, so I’m able to deal with a fair amount of his contractual work.’

  Another paralegal? How many of them are there? I think of last night with Natalie and my mouth starts to go dry. I take a sip of my Black Velvet. I must ring her when all this is over. I think there’s more to explore with someone like that.

  Anjukka crosses her legs. I’m looking at her face, but my peripheral vision has picked out the tops of her stockings and her suspender clips.

  ‘And that place in Holland Park. Is that the HQ? I got the impression he lived there.’

  ‘No. The headquarters is in the City. That’s where I work most of the time and that’s where most of the day-to-day business is done. That’s where the fiancé ploy really comes in handy. It’s as if someone rounded up all the creepy, ugly, loud, privately educated, insecure males in London and dumped them in one office.’

  ‘Sounds like heaven on earth for an attractive young woman.’

  ‘That’s for sure. Sometimes he’ll use the house in Holland Park when he’s seeing people and wants to give them the impression that the business is not some big impersonal conglomerate in a skyscraper, which of course it is. He has another big house in Richmond. I know the address, but I’ve never seen it.’

  She finishes her drink. I order two more even though I’m only half way through mine. I think she’s drinking quickly because she’s nervous.

  ‘He does stay at the Holland Park place overnight sometimes, though. It depends what he’s doing. He often entertains clients in the West End, so Holland Park is nice and handy. I think there are a couple of bedrooms in the house, but I’ve never seen them. There’s a lot of security because he keeps some stuff in filing cabinets that’s confidential and there’re the computers and so on.’

  ‘Not to mention his art.’

  ‘Yes, well there’s that, too.’

  ‘What do you think of his wife’s portrait in the office?’

  ‘Oh my God! Isn’t that the most outrageous thing? I mean – really? I’ve never met her, so I can’t judge, but if that was me I’d just drop dead of embarrassment whenever anyone was in there. I mean – I’d drop dead of embarrassment just having the painting done in the first place!’

  She doesn’t know that Raleigh’s wife is dead. But then why should she? Most people don’t know anything about their employer’s private lives. I’m sure there’s nothing significant in this. It’s interesting, all the same because he was talking to me about her as if she was alive. I’m trying to think of something to say that will flatter her and get me some more information at the same time. She takes a sip of her drink, looking at me over the rim and uncrossing her legs. I hear the seductive swish of her nylons again.

  ‘She’s very attractive, though,’ I say, watching her carefully.

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘For that type of figure.’

  ‘And how would you describe that type of figure, Daniel?’

  ‘Slim. Willowy.’

  ‘And is that the sort of figure you go for?’

  ‘So you wouldn’t ever have a portrait like that done yourself, then.’

  ‘I don’t know. It would depend.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On who was painting it. I don’t think I’d be too bothered if it was a woman.’ She giggles. ‘It would be just like when you were in the ladies’ changing room in the gym, but someone was painting you.’

  ‘But if it was for someone special, you might consider it?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I think I would.’

  ‘Quite expensive, I would think,’ I say.

  ‘It probably is. But I think if you wanted someone to have a portrait of you like that, it would be worth the money.’

  ‘I think so too. Where would you hang it?’

  ‘It would have to be in the bedroom.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’

  A waiter appears. Our table is ready. Anjukka finishes her drink and gets up. She loses her footing for a second and falls forward, grabbing my forearm for support. I place a hand gently against her waist as we’re led to our table.

  ‘High bar stools,’ I say. ‘Always a hazard.’

  ‘They’re going to think I’m pissed.’

  We sit down and the waiter hands us a menu each. As we make our choices, she looks up at me. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  ‘Which one was that?’

  ‘When you described Mrs Raleigh’s figure as slim and willowy. I asked you if that was the sort of figure you went for.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did I say?’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘Well, on careful consideration, I’d say it wasn’t the sort of figure I went for. I prefer curvier women.’

  ‘I thought so.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes. You look the type.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  We order our meals and I order a bottle of champagne. Neither of us fancies a starter. We both have the same thing – spaghetti alla puttanesca. I like it here because the portions aren’t too big. I hate feeling bloated after a meal.

  We eat in silence for a while, our eyes occasionally meeting across the table.

  ‘So how are you doing with finding Mr Raleigh’s daughter? I can’t imagine how stressful that must be for him. He had to tell me about it in case I had to deal with you in some way or other. Taking messages, logging payments and so on.’

  I have no idea how much she knows about what’s going on.

  ‘It’s keeping me busy.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. You can’t really talk about it, can you?’

  ‘It depends. Tell me what you know.’

  ‘Well, she went missing a couple of years ago and I think he just got fed up with the police doing nothing and hired you.’

  ‘That’s about it. I’m just doing the usual – checking with people she knew, old friends, that sort of thing. Sometimes one thing will lead to another. It’s pretty tedious. I think the trail may have gone cold, unfortunately.’

  ‘They had a big confab after you’d gone. Mr Raleigh and Mr Fisher, that is. They were in Mr Raleigh’s office talking for at least half an hour.’

  ‘Do you know what they were talking about?’

  ‘I got the impression that Mr Fisher was a bit annoyed that Mr Raleigh got someone in from outside the company to help.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I think he thought that Mr Raleigh might ask him to do it, as he�
�d been in the army and so on. I don’t think that’s what they were talking about, though. I think they were talking about you. Anyway, I’m glad he’s annoyed. I don’t like Mr Fisher. He’s a creep. Just thinking about him makes me feel ill. He’s always turning the conversation around to sex.’

  ‘I didn’t know he’d been in the army. He might have been doing radar or something, though. Doesn’t mean he could do this. So you pretend to be engaged in work. Are you seeing anyone at all?’

  ‘No. Not at the moment. Not for some time, actually. This is the first date I’ve been on for two years.’ She purses her lips. ‘And it was me that had to ask you out! That’s the price I pay for my betrothal to Alistair and his posh foodstuffs. I don’t mind, particularly, but I do love going out. I go out with girlfriends from time to time, but it’s not the same.’

  ‘Two years. That’s incredible. I’m not being rude, but you’re one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen. I really can’t believe you’re unattached. Don’t take that as any sort of come-on, though. I say that to everybody. I don’t think I would let Alistair and his Mercedes stop me asking you out, though.’

  ‘Well, it didn’t stop you, did it. I could see you noticed the ring, but you still gave me your card when there was no real need to. That’s why I rang you. That’s why we’re here now.’

  ‘You see right through me.’ I take another sip of champagne. ‘Why is Mr Fisher a creep?’

  ‘Well, he – I shouldn’t be telling you this, I suppose – he does things for Mr Raleigh that I find a bit distasteful. In fact, there are certain aspects of this job that I’ve really begun not to like. To be honest, I’ve been looking for something else for a couple of months.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll have any problems finding anything.’

  ‘I hope not.’

  I pour some more champagne into her glass. Her skin is attractively pale against her black hair. The combination of her beauty, her perfume and the champagne is making my mind wander. I must keep focussed.

  ‘What sort of things does Mr Fisher do that you don’t like?’

  She drinks and purses her lips again. It’s quite an endearing gesture.

  ‘Well, you know that Mr Raleigh is in the arms business I take it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He does a lot of business with the Emirates; lots of other countries, too. I don’t know the full extent of it, really. He sees people when they come over. I don’t know who half of them are. Sometimes they’re royalty, sometimes they’re government officials, and sometimes they’re armed forces personnel. It all depends.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well it’s no secret that a lot of these people expect to be entertained well when they’re over here and that means prostitutes, among other things. They want to be treated like little gods, just because they have money and want to buy guns or whatever. I find it dreadful, actually, that Mr Raleigh sucks up to them like he does. It makes you have no respect for him, I suppose. The whole thing is dreadful.’

  ‘I know it is. Powerful men tossing off other powerful men by proxy.’

  She laughs. I use this opportunity to slide my hand over the table and hold hers.

  ‘Well Mr Fisher is very closely involved with the entertainment side, if that’s the word for it. Once, when we were in the main HQ, I was walking past his office and I could see that he was looking at some site or other that had semi-naked women on it. I don’t mean pornographic, just women in sexy lingerie and bikinis and so on.’

  ‘So you think he was hiring call girls?’

  ‘He was definitely hiring call girls. I was working late that night, so I waited until he’d gone home and there was no one about and I switched on his computer to see what it was he’d been looking at. It was easy to find out the password for his Internet server. There’s a list of the passwords in a file in the management menu, which I have access to. Stupid, really, but those office computers aren’t really used for all the confidential stuff. They’re mainly used for admin matters. He hadn’t bothered to clear his search history, so I took a peek.’

  Jesus Christ. She was sailing close to the wind doing that. There are dozens of ways to find out if someone has been looking at things on your computer. She would have altered the way the search history looked just by clicking on one item. I’ve come across people who are so paranoid about this that if they don’t erase it, they make a screenshot note of what their search history looked like and check it the next time they log on. She was lucky that Fisher wasn’t one of those people.

  ‘So what did you find?’

  The waiter appears with a dessert menu. We take one each and try to choose something. They do a great affogato here, so I’ll have that. Anjukka has strawberry macaroons with toffee-flavoured cream blobbed on top of them. I order another bottle of champagne.

  ‘Can I try some of your dessert when it arrives?’ she says.

  ‘Sure. They use very strong espresso in it, though. You may get heart palpitations.’

  ‘I’m getting them already.’

  ‘Really? Then you might die.’

  ‘Die from an Italian dessert? I’ll take the risk. You only live once.’

  Our hands separated while the dessert was sorted, now they slide effortlessly together again. The waiter smiles as he places the champagne bucket beside the table. If I’m not careful they’ll send a violin player over here in a minute. I start to think about Viola Raleigh and how this sort of male/female intimacy would have been alien to her.

  ‘I don’t think the result would be unattractive, though,’ says Anjukka, grinning wickedly.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘If I had a portrait done in the same style as Mrs Raleigh’s.’

  ‘I don’t think it would be, either. Would you choose exactly the same pose?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I think if you were going as far as exposing your breasts, then you may as well go all the way. I think I’d dispense with the fur coat across the lap.’

  ‘Too coy?’

  ‘Something like that. Too flash and ostentatious, also. I don’t think I’d sit in an armchair, either. If I was going to be sitting down, I think an ordinary chair would be much better. My bottom’s one of my best features and I’d want it to be seen. If I was going to have a portrait like that done, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Also the dress she’s got on, if it is a dress. I don’t think I’d bother with that. I mean, it’s quite erotic if it is a dress, I suppose. There’s the hint that it’s been pulled down to expose her breasts for the portrait. But once again, why bother with it? You may as well go all the way.’

  ‘I thought it was maybe a skirt. It’s hard to tell.’

  ‘Whatever it is, it would have to go. I wouldn’t want someone to have something boring and dull hanging on their bedroom wall.’

  ‘I had no idea you were so considerate.’

  ‘It’s one of my best qualities.’

  The desserts arrive. Anjukka looks at mine while eating the first spoonful of hers.

  ‘Go on. Try some.’

  ‘What’s the ice cream?’

  ‘Vanilla.’

  She takes a spoonful, making sure she has enough of the coffee. As she swallows, her eyes roll up into her head. ‘Dreamy. I didn’t think it would be so sweet.’

  I’m interested in the fact that Fisher hires call girls as part of his job for Raleigh, if Anjukka’s got her facts right. I’ll have to bring that up again soon as it seems to have drifted away as part of the conversation. I can’t quite work out whether this is significant in any way. I shouldn’t be drinking this much; it affects my cognitive abilities.

  Is Fisher somehow involved in this? Is he screwing over his boss in some way? I can’t imagine how. Let me try and think a little more clearly. Could it have been Fisher who was Viola’s mysterious client that night in the hotel? Did Viola realise who he was, go a little crazy and run off into the night, never to return? Would she have known who Fisher was in the fi
rst place? I’m not sure whether their respective roles in Raleigh’s life overlap or not.

  Most people don’t have enough involvement in their parents’ jobs to know or recognise individual members of staff. On the other hand, Fisher seemed to know Viola well enough, if only through her photographs and his research. If Viola was an occasional visitor to the place in Holland Park, she may well have encountered Fisher and he her.

  It could be just coincidence, however, and it’s difficult to make anything of it. DS Bream, however, picked up on it straight away. What was it she said? Something about not giving arms clients just a cup of tea and a biscuit? She said that it might not mean anything and she didn’t want to colour my investigation. Well, maybe she’s right. Maybe it just muddies the waters, thinking like that.

  But what if Fisher really is involved? Could he conceivably be entertaining Raleigh’s clients with Raleigh’s own daughter? Is all this help and sympathy just a front? No. That would be an insane thing to do. If that was the case, and Raleigh found out, Fisher would be finished. I wouldn’t put it past Raleigh to actually have Fisher killed. I’m sure he has the contacts for something like that.

  ‘You were telling me about Fisher’s search history.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  She finishes what’s left of her dessert and drains her glass of champagne. I refill it. Her face is a little flushed now. She’s enjoying herself. I’m glad. She’s nice.

  ‘It was all websites for very, very expensive call girls. I’m no expert, but they all looked top of the range to me. All very beautiful. Like models. Some of them had their faces blanked out, some of them it was just the eyes. Others, you could see their faces clearly. They were usually dressed in lovely evening gowns, though many of them were in lingerie or swimwear.’

  ‘Expensive? The girls, I mean?’

  ‘God, yes. Average was something like a thousand an hour, two thousand for a dinner date and almost four thousand for overnight. I imagine they’d spend a fortune on clothes and grooming. And shoes! But now I think of it they didn’t really look like models. Not British ones, anyway. British models look too quirky. These had a bit too much forced glamour. More like high end Page Three girls, if anything. Or maybe glamour models. The sort of girls you’d see in saucy lingerie catalogues, not that I’ve ever browsed through anything like that.’