by Sabina Manea
‘I’ll be OK, thanks. Don’t want to keep you.’
‘What have you got?’ She knew it must have been something momentous to warrant a visit – her heart was pounding.
‘I spoke to Walker. You’re right, he’d been telling porkies all along,’ the policeman said excitedly as he sat down at her kitchen table.
‘Really?’ She was surprised that John Walker had yielded so easily.
DCI Carliss had clearly read her mind. ‘He didn’t give in from the start. I told him about the fence and asked him what the row with the Professor was really about. He beat around the bush for a while – said he couldn’t remember, it wasn’t important, the usual rubbish. When I pointed out I knew about Mrs Justice Alexander and suggested a trip to the station for lying to the police, he relented. I don’t think he wants to attract attention to himself, given what he came out with next.’ He paused for effect.
‘Come on, stop trying to be clever,’ Lucia joked impatiently.
‘Sorry. The Professor knew about the affair and was blackmailing him. Had been for months. That’s why they were arguing.’
Even Lucia hadn’t seen this one coming. ‘Oh, that is good. So, he had plenty of motive to get rid of her.’
‘Oh, yes, plenty, given how much there was at stake. His career, his marriage. He had already made a substantial down payment for her silence, but she wanted more. He was worried the wife would get suspicious, so he confronted the Professor. She laughed and said she had him exactly where she wanted him.’
‘I imagine someone like John Walker wouldn’t take that very well. How did the Professor find out?’
‘He didn’t know. Assumed she must have spotted them together somewhere in town. He said they were discreet, but we saw them, so she could have done as well.’
‘Don’t forget we did follow them – not that I’m giving him any credit,’ Lucia remarked.
They both smiled.
‘You look great, by the way,’ the policeman said.
They walked downstairs together, and Lucia got into her taxi to Lygon Place.
Chapter 26
At the other end of town, the glass-fronted door to a magnificent Queen Anne style town house dutifully opened before her. The enormous sisal doormat proudly read “Chanler” in heavy black capitals, lest the guests should forget whose party they had been invited to. It was only ten minutes past seven, but the place was already buzzing. It smelled of fig cologne, and there was silk and soft leather as far as the eye could see. Nina wove her way towards her friend through the crowd – a modern Athena, unapologetic in a burnt-orange sequinned gown that glistened like chainmail.
‘Lucia, darling.’ Nina drawled her name with an exaggerated Italian accent. ‘Bellissima, come sempre.’
‘Nina. It’s been too long.’
The women embraced warmly. Lucia had missed her closest friend. They came from such different backgrounds and lived such different lives, and yet every time they met, they could effortlessly pick up where they left off.
‘I like what you’ve done with the place.’ It was brash and derivative, and it was Nina all over. The floor to ceiling mirrors cladding a whole drawing room wall reflected the glossy walnut furniture. A young woman, resplendent in red satin under the dimmed chandeliers, leaned against the midnight blue and gold chevron wallpaper. ‘You couldn’t make it up.’
‘Ah, this. I’m getting bored with it. Say, wouldn’t you like the job? That way I can have you all to myself.’
‘I couldn’t improve on it. Don’t rip it out.’
Nina shook her mass of blonde curls. She had different colour eyes – one green and one hazel – which could instantly flip from enticing to unsettling. ‘You’re right, it’s not too bad. You should see my new drinks cabinet. I had it shipped all the way from Charleston. They don’t make them like that in Europe.’ She gestured to the nearest waiter, who dutifully pirouetted in their direction.
‘Cheers. I’m so glad you came, Lulu. It’s like old times.’
Lucia and Nina Chanler, née Lexington, had been inseparable since university in Cambridge. They had ended up working for the same law firm and even shared an office in their previous life – not that the latter had set foot in one since marrying Walter ‘Charming’ Chanler, with his South Carolina tinned fish money that had made life in Lygon Place possible. He had wooed his way into what he thought was British high society, or at least the kind of society that Nina frequented. What went on behind closed doors in Belgravia would have shocked the bourgeois sensibilities of North London, which is why Carliss was best left safely parked at home.
‘How is your mother?’
Nina cackled. ‘On fine form, as always. She’s bored rigid with her retirement – she says it’s about as fun as waterboarding. Coming from her, that’s quite an indictment.’
‘Is she here tonight?’
‘No, she’s gone back north. Oh, I should have known.’ Nina affected a playfully wounded look. ‘You’re just here to use me. You’ll have to entertain me with some sparkling conversation before you ask for a favour.’
‘The serious business can wait, Double N. I’m here to have a good time.’ “Northern Nina”, they used to call her at boarding school, and it stuck in a modified form. By tradition, the Lexington children were educated locally until they were old enough to be sent away to the Cheltenham Colleges, where the involuntarily acquired Nottinghamshire accent was swiftly stamped out.
‘Miss Lucia. Lovely as ever.’ Walter was so parodically Southern as to merit an entire doctoral thesis. He and Nina were a good match. If they hadn’t met, she would have ended up marrying and bossing around a questionable diplomat from her mother’s circle. To his credit, Walter took his wife with a generous pinch of salt. More importantly, he had impressed Virginia Lexington. ‘How’s work?’
‘Good. Busy. Keeps me out of trouble.’
Walter turned to a rotund woman in head-to-toe emerald green, like a giant Fabergé egg, who hovered expectantly on the fringes of their group. ‘Lucia here is the best in the business.’ He was always happy to fly the flag for a friend. The Chanlers had always looked out for one another and their close ones, not out of grudging duty or in the expectation that the favour would be returned, but simply because good manners and social responsibility were in their blood. ‘In fact, everything you see around you is her doing.’ He winked discreetly in Lucia’s direction, and Nina grinned. There was no harm in a little promotional exercise.
The ovoid lady beamed. ‘Oh, Walter, this place is splendid. You’re very talented, Lucia. You could be just the ticket for Oxfordshire.’ Predictably, Walter was a guaranteed hit with females of a certain age. ‘How do you know the Chanlers?’
‘Nina and I used to work together, a long time ago.’
‘Oh, you’re a lawyer too? How very clever. Do you miss it?’
‘Not much. I like the quiet life.’
Walter laughed heartily. ‘I don’t believe that for a second. You two weren’t cut out for the quiet life. You’re up to something, Lulu, I can smell it.’ His eyes suddenly narrowed as they darted to the door. ‘Why, if it isn’t Marcus Calthorpe. Nina, he’s been dying to meet you.’
‘Come along then, Lucia. Let’s get introduced.’ Nina wound her arm around her friend’s waist and strode towards a serious-looking man in an unnecessarily sober suit. ‘The new Ambassador to Oman,’ she whispered in Lucia’s ear. ‘Mummy’s successor and professional golden boy. Apparently our contemporary at Emmanuel. Never set eyes on him, have you? Must have been one of the studious ones.’
‘You mean he was out during daylight hours. No danger of our collective paths ever crossing, in that case.’
Walter did the honours. Marcus Calthorpe looked petrified.
‘A pleasure to meet you at last, Marcus.’ Nina’s disconcerting eyes did little by way of reassurance. ‘You’re quite the mythical creature. I hear you’re going to single-handedly broker peace in the Middle East.’
The poor man flush
ed all the way to an unpleasant shade of beetroot. ‘That’s very kind. I’m afraid I’ve got some rather big shoes to fill.’
Nina laughed charitably. ‘Yes, Mother does have big feet. I’m sure you’ll do very well. I do hope you enjoy our little get-together.’ She flashed her most benevolent smile and disappeared back into the crowd, followed by her old friend. ‘I think I’ve paraded you around enough.’ Nina signalled to Lucia. ‘Let’s have another drink and you can ask me that favour you wanted.’
They settled in a couple of low cocktail chairs safely tucked behind the specially hired martini bar, which was barely keeping up with demand.
‘Professor Alla Kiseleva and Dr Edmund Glover. Do those names mean anything to you?’
Nina frowned thoughtfully. ‘No… Do you want me to ask Mater?’
‘If you could.’
‘Dare I ask what it’s about?’ Nina’s eyes were glowing. She knew Lucia was up to no good.
‘A murder. Do you want to help me?’
‘Oh, I’d kill for it. In a manner of speaking… I’m bored witless buying furniture and going to Walter’s work dos. There are only so many conversations on sardine prices that I can grin through.’
The old friends talked and drank for hours and made up for all the time they had been apart. The evening disappeared in a haze of champagne and euphoria. By the end, they lay on the sofa, shoes abandoned on the floor. Walter had retired to bed. It was four in the morning, and they were slowly running out of steam.
‘We need a downer, Lulu. I’m too excited to sleep.’ Nina stood up and walked upstairs. A few minutes later, she reappeared with a small envelope.
‘Sleeping pills? They don’t do much for me.’
‘Of course they don’t. This is much better.’
Lucia opened the envelope. Inside was a sachet of white powder.
‘Don’t take too much – you’re not a horse. K always does the trick – it’ll take the edge right off, I promise,’ said Nina.
Before abandoning all caution, Lucia checked her phone. The screen glowed with news of a voice message. She listened to Carliss’s voice: ‘Just a quick one. Harding pulled Danny over for a traffic check. Nothing noteworthy in the van, just a box of donuts and some bananas for the boys. Not giving up yet. Hope you’re having a good time.’
Chapter 27
DCI Carliss stood outside the gates at Lygon Place, wondering if he should ring the bell or wait for Lucia. The building made it perfectly clear that entry was subject to a stringent selection process, and he wasn’t at all confident he would be successful. Lucia’s message had been oddly cryptic – an instruction to be there at nine sharp, to meet a friend of hers that could help. A heavy glass-panelled door swung open, releasing a Filipino nanny and her small charge, bundled out of sight in a comically oversized pram that emulated an age best left behind.
‘Are you ready?’ Lucia had crept up unnoticed. She had enjoyed watching him, for once out of his element.
‘Your friend has done well for herself.’ He was lost for words, not knowing what to expect.
‘Little Nina always falls on her feet. It’s genetic.’ Lucia pressed the bell firmly, and the gate clicked open. Nina stood waiting in the doorway, thrilled at the prospect of an adventure.
‘Come in, you two. You must be the mysterious inspector. You didn’t tell me he was this good-looking, Lulu. Well done.’ She weighed him up, as if she were deciding on a purchase in Harrods and shook his hand more vigorously than he had expected. ‘Nina Chanler.’ She was wearing a marginally less terrifying outfit than at the party – plain jeans and a ruffled shirt last seen on an Elizabethan pirate. The heterochrome eyes and manic corkscrew curls did little to put the newcomer at ease.
In broad daylight and emptied of the guests, the house looked less demi-monde lair and more estate agent’s catalogue, though the tastes it catered to were admittedly niche. It was spotlessly clean, no doubt thanks to the efforts of a small army of help. As soon as they sat down in the drawing room, a plainly attired but unmistakably uniformed butler appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, enquiring as to whether they would be taking tea.
‘Did Lucia tell you anything, Inspector?’ Nina evidently had news to share; she could barely contain herself. Nonetheless, she couldn’t resist prolonging the agony a little.
‘Not a thing.’ Carliss tried to focus on one eye at a time but the wallpaper was giving him a headache.
‘Typical Lulu. So secretive.’ She laughed at her friend, who grinned back. They knew full well they were playing up the melodrama. ‘We used to work together a while back. When she came by on Thursday, she asked me to look into something. I’m… how shall I put it? Best placed to uncover things about people who don’t want to be found out.’ Nina leaned back, one arm stretched over the velvet sofa. ‘But don’t for a second imagine I’m going to give it to you on a plate. I want in first.’
Carliss had no idea what she was talking about. ‘What do you mean, you want in?’
‘I want to be part of the investigation. Lucia has already filled me in on the background. I’m in a position to offer help that you’re unlikely to access elsewhere.’
‘Great. Another meddling civilian. I’m a bit desperate, so OK, you’re in. What have you got for me?’ replied the policeman, defeated.
Nina flicked her hair triumphantly. ‘Your man Glover was in Eastern Europe in the 1980s. I don’t yet know what he was up to or where he was posted, but I’ve been promised more information.’
‘How do you know? More to the point, who are you? I don’t like this at all. I know better than to meddle in areas closed off to the ordinary police.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m lucky enough to have a direct line to the Foreign Office. My mother was an ambassador, and she’s banked quite a few favours that she hasn’t called in yet. If you don’t believe me, you can look her up. Virginia Lexington.’
‘And the Professor? Don’t tell me she was a Russian spy. This isn’t a third-rate film,’ replied Carliss in disbelief.
Nina was offended. ‘It’s not a game, you know. These people do exist. And yes, since you ask. You should thank Lucia for having a good forage through that book the Professor had in the pipeline, otherwise I would have never known where to start. Her file is inaccessible, bar an unmarked photo. It’s almost certainly her, though we’re talking nearly forty years ago. No name, no personal details, nothing. She must have been pretty special.’
Carliss was out of his depth, and he knew it. ‘You know I can’t verify any of this. And what’s it got to do with her death?’
‘We know she can’t be Russian,’ interrupted Lucia. ‘Remember the badly written papers? And, if she was on MI6’s radar, they must have known she came to the UK. That leaves two possibilities. Either she was harmless, or she had something valuable to sell.’
‘Which one do you think it was?’ retorted Carliss.
‘She wasn’t harmless. I’d venture to guess she was on the run from her own people.’
‘Did Glover and the Professor know each other? Back in the day, I mean. To be honest, I’m struggling to see how these titbits, juicy as they sound, relate to our case,’ asked the inspector.
‘There’s nothing to suggest they did,’ answered Nina, hopeful that no finality was implied.
‘OK, so we’ve got nothing. Glover was a soldier and a spy – no surprise there. The Professor was Russian, or maybe not Russian, and also a spy, for the other side – also not entirely unexpected. Years later, she gets herself killed by her nephew, who is by far the most likely suspect. I think we’ve got ourselves side-tracked. It’s an open and shut case. I’m not getting myself dragged into this murky web,’ protested Carliss.
Nina was angrily chewing on a bright orange nail. ‘You mis-sold him, Lulu. He’s just another PC Plod. What a waste of time that was.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Lucia knew she had to rescue the situation. ‘Nobody in their right mind believes in coin
cidences. Until we find out what they were really up to, we can’t discount what Nina’s found out.’
‘We’ll need more on Glover if we’re to link him to the Professor,’ the policeman conceded reluctantly.
The women exchanged satisfied looks.
‘That’s all we ask for – patience. We’ve got plenty of gaping holes left.’ Nina stretched out like a cat and fixed him with one flickering hazel eye.
Carliss was fidgeting with his hands, pretending to concentrate on his teacup – translucently white with delicate green chinoiserie. Nina could see that their self-assurance made him doubt his own abilities.
‘So, you two worked together?’ he asked.
Nina took the lead. ‘We made a good dastardly duo. All water under the bridge now.’ She looked out of the tall window. The sun had given way to relentless rain, and the pavement looked distinctly uninviting. ‘Since we understand each other, and with the weather being so filthy, I think we can move on from tea.’ A few taps on her phone, and seconds later the obliging butler materialised with the order. Nina waved him out and poured the champagne. She lit a thin cigarette, cross-legged on a soft ottoman.
‘You look like a smoking man, Inspector. Can I tempt you?’
He picked one out from the outstretched packet. ‘Sobranie. Very nice. A step up from my usual fare.’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve given up, Lulu.’
‘Not today. Reminds me of the good times. Cheers, Double N.’
The inspector sank back in the armchair, champagne in hand. Lucia reckoned that, given time, he could get used to Belgravia.
Chapter 28
The rain had eased, and Lucia and Carliss were walking side by side through St James’s Park, a pleasant detour under the guise of catching the 24 bus back north. The line-up of government buildings on Horse Guards Road served as a stark reminder that the case might easily slip from their grasp. Lucia was acutely aware of what lay on the other side of the river and hoped that the death of the Professor wouldn’t end up swallowed in the cavernous belly of Ceaușescu Towers.
