Just as she was about to give the girls a piece of her mind, a tall, handsome, dark-haired man brushed through the onlookers and spoke softly in French to the girl behind the pile of coats. The attendant laughed, glanced over to the two teenagers and laughed again. The tall man said something else and the girl nodded, replied, then pointed at the designer coat that the child-woman was holding.
‘It’s in your pocket,’ said the man.
The girl searched it, found her bag, huffed and turned away.
‘I think an apology is in order, don’t you?’
The girls looked horrified. How dare anyone speak to them like that? Unsure what to do, they turned their backs on him.
‘And a simple thank you to me will do, considering I saved you from making more of a spectacle of yourself than you were already.’
‘She lost my purse,’ said the girl, pointing at the coat attendant.
‘No, you misplaced your purse. Now you owe everyone an apology.’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘A spoilt precocious child, which is only marginally less attractive than the spoilt precocious adult you are soon to become. I’m afraid you’ve just embarrassed yourself in front of people who have long memories. Apologise, then go away.’
Now the girls looked terrified, but still would not relent. ‘I’m going to tell my mother about you.’
The man laughed. ‘She’ll be hearing from me before I hear from her.’
Too cryptic for the children; they departed. But Jessie knew what he meant. She knew who he was. Joshua Cadell, the hack who’d done a hatchet job on Maggie. She needed to find her flatmate immediately.
Maggie was with a group of people, enthusing wildly, all hands and hair. Jessie waved frantically. Maggie waved back happily and beckoned her over. Maggie had no idea that Joshua Cadell was fast descending on the group of people she was with. Jessie half walked, half ran across the room, grabbed Maggie and swung her around in midsentence.
‘Two o’clock. The enemy approaches,’ said Jessie in a hoarse whisper.
‘Enemy?’ enquired a robust voice next to her.
‘Jessie? I’m so glad you came. Let me introduce you to Dame Henrietta Cadell,’ said Maggie, pinching Jessie’s arm hard. Jessie stared at the heavily made-up face of the historical novelist. Boom. Where were the bomb disposal squad when you needed them?
‘Darling, I must know, who is the enemy?’ gushed Henrietta Cadell.
‘Jessie’s ex,’ said Maggie swiftly, looking at Joshua then Jessie. ‘It’s okay, I think I saw him go to the bar.’ She winked at Jessie. Jessie did not wink back.
‘I’m so sorry. Love is a violent pastime, is it not?’ Henrietta turned back to Maggie. ‘Go on, dear, you were telling me about your next big job. You’ll be focusing on the Loire Valley, you say. Marvellous. Do you have a good producer? It is imperative. You seem to be a class act, you need a good team behind you.’
Maggie beamed. Jessie took a step back.
‘Ouch. Big boots, thin leather brogues. You win.’
Jessie turned and looked up into the boyish face of Joshua Cadell. He had looked so angular and pale on the television, yet up close his dark blue eyes weren’t remotely threatening and his hair that had looked so sinister now fell in curls over his eyes. He seemed to be smiling at her. But she wasn’t going to let that put her off.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t wearing stilettos.’
She watched Joshua do a double-take, then nod. ‘It was you by the coat check. I saw you watching. I’m sorry, you obviously don’t approve of my parenting skills.’
‘Oh no, they deserved it.’
He was confused by her hostility.
‘Have we met before …?’
‘No,’ said Jessie.
He frowned again. ‘I’m Josh.’ He held out a hand.
‘Joshua, darling, come and meet my darling new friend. Maggie …’ Henrietta turned back to Maggie.
Jessie smiled in anticipation of the banshee. But the banshee didn’t appear. Instead, Maggie stuck out her hand, her breasts and her lips, and pulled Joshua towards her. ‘… Hall,’ she said sweetly. ‘Maggie Hall. I don’t think we’ve met.’
Jessie’s mouth dropped open. Joshua was shaking Maggie’s hand but he was looking at her.
‘Do you two know each other?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Henrietta. ‘This young lady’s ex is here somewhere. We’re shielding her. Broken hearts are more painful than the rack, my dear. Joshua wouldn’t know, of course, lucky for him.’
‘Actually –’ Jessie began to protest.
‘Jessie’s over it,’ said Maggie.
Jessie was too angry with Maggie to speak.
‘Why don’t we go and get a drink?’ said Maggie. ‘It was lovely to meet you. I really am loving your book.’
Joshua looked at Jessie. ‘I’m going to the bar. What would you like?’
Jessie remained stubbornly mute. This was Maggie’s fault, she could deal with it.
‘No, we’ll get you something. What do you want?’ asked Maggie, still pouting.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Joshua.
‘No sweetie, stay with me. My publisher has just arrived and you know how she adores you.’ Henrietta took Joshua’s hand and pulled him towards her. ‘And there are some more important people for you to meet. Another adoring fan sent over a bottle of champagne, so you may as well drink that.’
Maggie dragged Jessie to the ladies loo. Jessie turned on her flatmate. ‘You lying little toad! You’re not reading her book. And as for being so nice to –’
‘Shut up, Jessie. Until we’re alone.’
Maggie waited for two girls to leave the room before speaking. Jessie was seething with indignation. She didn’t mind Maggie using her as a date at difficult parties until a suitable and more masculine other came along to relieve her of her duties as prop. But this, this was too much. The door closed.
‘I can’t believe you –’
‘Look, Jessie, I don’t like them but, trust me, these people are better if they’re on your side.’
‘Sure, but you wouldn’t catch me prostrating myself at Mark Ward’s feet and letting him walk all over me. Where is the self-respect in that? She’s patronising you and you take it, then she tells you that you aren’t important enough for her treasured son and you take that too, and that’s forgetting the whole shitty article he wrote. It’s embarrassing.’ Jessie realised she had gone too far when Maggie began to slide down the wall and sit on the floor. ‘Get up, Maggie.’ She didn’t move. ‘I’m sorry. That was unnecessary.’ She grabbed Maggie’s hands and pulled her up. ‘I was shocked.’
‘I’ve got to play the game, Jessie. You know that.’
‘I know.’
‘She is very well connected. I’ve got to make them like me.’
Jessie wanted to tell her that it wasn’t worth it, the loss of face was too high a price, but she didn’t. She relented. ‘Joshua looks quite sexy in real life.’
‘You don’t fancy him, do you?’
‘Me? After what he did to you? That would be breaking the code of sisterhood. I’ll hate him until my dying day,’ said Jessie.
‘I wish I had that luxury.’
‘Come on, Cilla, don’t think about it. Let’s go and get that drink. Seeing as it’s free.’
Maggie nodded. ‘I’ve got to pee. I’ll catch you up in a minute. And, Jess – be nice to him, I know that tongue of yours can draw blood, but keep it curled up tonight, please?’ Jessie frowned. ‘For me?’
‘If you say so.’
By the cigarette machine, Jessie passed a man who was leaning heavily against a girl. At first she thought they were kissing, but the girl was in fact trying to push the man away.
‘Don’t make a scene,’ said the man, just loud enough for Jessie to hear. She couldn’t help herself, she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Jessie could now see that the girl was younger than the man, much younger and very frightened.
&nbs
p; ‘Everything all right here?’ she asked, looking at the girl.
‘Oh, Christ,’ moaned the man. ‘What do you want?’
‘I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink, sir.’
‘Too much? You obviously don’t know who I am.’
‘No. And I don’t want to. Now, perhaps you should call it a night.’
He laughed. ‘Very good, you almost sound official.’
‘Actually,’ said Jessie, holding open her wallet, ‘I am. So perhaps you wouldn’t mind removing your hand from the lady’s shoulder and taking yourself off home before I have to make you, whoever you are.’
He stepped away from the girl, who quickly scampered into the safety of the ladies. The man sneered at Jessie then straightened out his pinstripe suit and walked over-cautiously back out into the party. No sooner had Jessie replaced her wallet than Maggie came out of the loo, wiping her hand in front of her nose. ‘You don’t have to wait for me. I’m a big girl now, you know.’
‘I was just –’
Maggie grabbed her hand. ‘Come on, let’s show those Cadells how truly fabulous I am!’
Conjuring up an image of a long stretch of river, bulrushes, blue sky, Jessie followed Maggie back out into the fray. She watched Maggie return to the Cadell group and slip in with ease. She thought about following, but couldn’t bring herself to. She simply wasn’t interested in listening to an overweight historian holding court to a gathering of sycophants. If she snuck off now, Maggie wouldn’t even notice. She glanced back and saw Maggie accept a glass of champagne. Maggie was in her element, at the centre of things, letting a little stardust rub off on her. No wonder she looked so attentive, so alert.
Jessie had almost made it to the exit when a hand landed on her shoulder. It was Joshua.
‘You’re leaving already?’
‘Early start,’ said Jessie, stepping back.
‘Shame to go so soon.’
Jessie looked over to Henrietta. ‘Not a great deal to keep me here.’
Joshua laughed. ‘Most people can’t get enough of my mother.’
‘I was always better at geography,’ said Jessie.
‘Me too. Of course I was made to do history anyway.’
‘What did you get?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Don’t ask, it’s a big family secret.’
They looked at each other for a moment until Jessie got embarrassed. ‘Good night, Joshua.’
‘Can I walk you to a taxi rank?’ She held up her helmet. ‘Your bike, then?’
‘Will you be able to get back in? They’re like the Gestapo on the door.’
‘No problem. I’m Henrietta Cadell’s son. Practically royalty.’
‘Even here?’
‘She wrote the film.’
‘Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realise.’
‘You didn’t see it?’
Jessie shook her head, embarrassed.
‘Don’t worry, most people just come to the party, say something about the costumes and try and get their photograph taken with Mother.’
‘And what about you? What do you do?’
‘I bask in her reflected glory, accept the perks and get laid frequently by women who would like the Dame as a mother-in-law.’ He smiled. ‘It could be worse.’
‘Could it?’
‘Much. I might have wanted to be a historian myself. The world does not look kindly on the offspring of celebrities who go in search of their own merit. That is a true curse.’
‘But you write. Don’t you?’
They arrived at the parking bay. ‘Let me explain something about that piece.’
‘What piece?’
‘The thing I wrote about Maggie. The reason why you’re so hostile.’
‘Don’t take it personally. I’m often hostile.’
‘I don’t believe that. You think I stitched up your friend. It’s the pressure I get from the editor. They want the dirt – dirt sells.’
Jessie looked at him. ‘It was a bit brutal.’
‘It’s what the editors want. Stitch them up or get another job. I could just go home and spend my allowance, but I don’t want to. Everyone is under the same pressure; people like to read abuse, it doesn’t mean I think it.’
‘Good to know British journalism is in such good hands.’
‘It’s what people want to read.’
‘So you keep saying.’
‘Your friend doesn’t seem to mind. She knows the game, she didn’t take it personally.’
Not in front of you, no. But behind closed doors, with a bottle of wine and a destructive helping of self-doubt …‘You know, it’s late, I’m tired … Thanks for escorting me to the bike but –’
‘You’ve got to go home,’ said Joshua, bowing his head slightly.
‘Yes. Goodnight.’ She pulled her helmet over her head, pushed the bike out of its slot and started the engine.
‘Don’t you ever compromise yourself in your job?’ asked Joshua.
Jessie tapped the side of the helmet. ‘Can’t hear, sorry.’
‘Never mind,’ shouted Joshua. Good, thought Jessie. She hated telling people what she did. They either shunned her or launched into a tale about their trouble with the neighbours.
CHAPTER 21
The earth blew warm air out into the dawn’s cold face. Deer snorted, shifted and regrouped. Trees appeared to float in the distance as the sun eked over the horizon. The runner increased his pace, parting the whispering mist, disturbing the peace. He inhaled deeply, the cold air stinging his nostrils. Birds evacuated the trees above him. They squawked. He spat. Up ahead, his dog barked, but his pace did not falter. The dog often barked. Usually at the deer.
He turned right and ran between the four giant oaks that marked the beginning of the end of that day’s endurance test. His pace quickened. Like a well-ridden horse, he was spurred on by the thought of home and a hot shower. He was looking forward to it. Not down. Suddenly the ground was higher than it was supposed to be. His unsuspecting ankle turned, he heard the tell-tale crunch of bone and lurched forward. He lay in the damp mulch and breathed in the smell of decay, waiting for his ankle to protest, but all he felt was a dull throb. It didn’t feel like a break. The dog was barking louder now. The runner turned to see what had made him fall. The grey-white flesh of a naked corpse glowed at him from under the damp, auburn leaves. He began to scream.
CHAPTER 22
Jessie was outside P. J. Dean’s house, clutching a double espresso, when she heard the call. Royal Parks Constabulary had found a stiff in Richmond Park. Some poor jogger had put his foot right through the sternum of a corpse. A possible identification had been made, but the Parks police didn’t want to commit yet. Jessie knew why. Foxes. Lean time of year. Easy pickings made identification difficult.
She tapped in the security code to open the gate. P.J. had sent all the auxiliary staff home, but the house was teeming with people. Her people. They were going over every inch of the house, the garden and the pool. She watched the green gate slide back, half thinking about Verity Shore and half listening to the crackle of the police radio.
‘… spread-eagled in the mud between four large oaks in the Isabella Plantation. Royal Parks Constabulary asking for back-up on this.’
Isabella Plantation. Mud. Spread-eagled. Jessie picked up the radio.
‘DI Driver and PC Ahmet on location,’ she barked, waving for Niaz to get in and throwing the car into reverse. ‘ETA seven minutes.’
CHAPTER 23
Jessie and Niaz followed the sergeant through the crisp, cold grass, away from the body. She took a quick look at the corpse. Bile rose and fell. She stepped away. Glad of her empty stomach. Patches of hoarfrost clung to the areas of ground not yet warmed by the rising sun. Elsewhere, dewdrops hung from every available surface. It would have been a beautiful morning. She almost envied the jogger. The SOCOs had done a fine job; the area was taped off, a PC stood at the entrance, a man was taking photos of each tree trunk. One of the guys in white suits walked up t
o her. He was smiling. It was Ed.
‘Another boring day in the office?’ said Jessie.
‘When we heard you were on your way, we thought we’d better make it look good.’
So, thought Jessie, I’m still in favour.
‘Great outfit,’ said Ed.
Jessie looked from her leather trousers to his all-in-one plastic suit with matching hood.
‘I’m sorry I can’t return the compliment.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t seen you stark bollock naked in the showers, but we can’t have everything.’
‘Well then, I have the advantage, and you have a head to bag.’
He looked down.
‘Not that head,’ she said, and pointed to the body. He squinted at her. The sun, low in the sky, picked out the yellow flecks in his eyes.
‘More’s the pity.’
‘Jessie?’
She turned. Sally Grimes was making her way through the trees, bag in hand, head in hat and feet in sensible shoes.
‘Sally, thanks for coming.’ They shook hands warmly.
‘Is it true? Is it Eve Wirrel?’ asked the pathologist.
News travels fast. Gossip even faster. ‘That is unconfirmed speculation. But she’s wearing a necklace with the name Eve on it, so …’
‘I’ll have a look. You coming?’
Not yet. Jessie wasn’t quite ready to go back. ‘I just want to look at these trees. Go with Ed, he’s about to bag the head, hands and feet.’
‘But not the woman,’ Ed said, looking at Jessie.
‘No,’ said Sally, unaware. ‘Give me a few moments first, then we’ll bag her up.’
Jessie walked over to the photographer. SOCOs were known for their warped sense of normality. Obviously spent too much time with stiffs. She smiled. Dear God, it was catching. She introduced herself to the photographer. The man showed her the markings on the trunk: D.E.C.
‘But it’s October. Perhaps it’s a boy’s name …’ Jessie was thinking out loud.
‘There’s more.’ The photographer indicated for her to follow him to the next tree.
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