Jessie nodded. ‘Right.’ She said nothing more, appeared to be thinking. In reality, she was waiting.
‘Can I ask what this is about?’ Dee Sloane was starting to look tense.
Jessie kept her voice, her movements as languid as possible. ‘It’s just that a Fiat Punto was found burned out at the scene of an arson attack in Aldeburgh a couple of days ago.’
‘And you think … what? That Michael or myself was responsible for the attack? That’s ridiculous.’
‘Were you?’ Jessie tried to keep the question light, even allowing a smile to play at the corners of her mouth.
Dee Sloane didn’t answer. Just regarded Jessie with haughty contempt, as if the question was beneath her.
Jessie dropped the smile as she spoke. ‘We checked, and the car is registered to your brother. Was your brother in Aldeburgh two days ago?’
‘No. He wasn’t.’
‘Were you?’
‘No.’
‘Someone was,’ said Deepak. ‘And they were driving your brother’s car.’
Dee Sloane said nothing.
‘Was it stolen?’ asked Jessie.
‘No,’ said Dee. ‘We have a car for the staff to use. It may have been that one.’
‘But registered in your brother’s name.’
‘Yes.’
‘Not your company’s.’
Dee Sloane hesitated. ‘No.’
‘Why?’
Dee moved around on the sofa as if she couldn’t get comfortable. ‘It’s … something to do with tax. I think. Our accountant proposed it.’
‘Right.’ Jessie nodded as if that was cleared up. She saw Dee begin to relax. Keep going, she thought. ‘D’you have many staff?’ The question almost chatty.
‘Two housekeepers. Two kitchen staff.’
Jessie sat back, eyes widening. ‘Just like Downton. D’you watch that? I love it.’
Dee said nothing, but seemed to bask in Jessie’s words.
‘So which servant had the car?’
Dee looked thrown. ‘What?’
‘Which servant had the car? Who took it to Aldeburgh? When it got burnt out.’
‘I … I’d have to check. I don’t know.’ Dee was back to finding the sofa uncomfortable again.
‘And they never mentioned it?’ asked Deepak.
‘Something like that would be pretty major,’ said Jessie. ‘Losing a car. Especially when it’s in your boss’s name. Bet he wasn’t happy about that.’
Dee was beginning to look trapped. Jessie smiled inwardly. Then stopped herself. Just because she’d taken an instant dislike to the woman didn’t mean Dee was bad. Then she thought back to the others she had taken instant dislikes to and what they had been responsible for. No, she thought again. Trust your instincts.
‘So you don’t know who had the car?’ she said.
‘No.’
‘And you don’t know what they were doing in Aldeburgh?’
‘No,’ said Dee, clearly rattled. ‘I don’t know what they get up to on their days off.’
‘So you don’t know who it was or what they were doing but you know it was their day off. Could you find out for us, please?’
‘Why?’
‘We’d like to speak to whoever it was.’
‘They were present at a crime scene,’ said Deepak. ‘Might be a witness.’
Dee leaned forward, fire in her eyes. ‘I’m going to ask you to leave. You said you wanted to speak to me about the death of an ex-employee. And you haven’t done. So please go.’
Jessie didn’t respond, just nodded. ‘Oh, what did Helen Hibbert want?’ Again she made the question sound like a casual enquiry. She had no intention of leaving, not until she had asked the questions she wanted to ask. And she would use all of her tricks and techniques to make sure she did so.
‘Sorry?’ Again Dee looked rattled.
‘She left just before we came in. What did she want?’
Dee looked between the two of them. Like a trapped animal, thought Jessie.
‘She … wanted to talk about her husband.’
‘Who used to work for you.’
‘Yes.’
Dee seemed to think that was enough. Jessie said nothing, her silence encouraging the other woman to fill the void with words.
It worked. ‘Her husband had been ill. Cancer.’ Dee’s voice took on a heavy, solemn tone. ‘She wanted to let us know. About his death.’
‘Doesn’t she have a phone?’ asked Deepak.
Jessie noticed rage behind Dee’s eyes, quickly suppressed. Gotcha, she thought.
‘She … she wanted to do it in person.’
‘He meant that much to you?’ said Jessie. ‘As an ex-employee.’
‘We were fond of Jeff. He was a … loyal employee.’
Her words were so hollow, thought Jessie, that she doubted even Dee believed them. ‘You know, it’s funny,’ she said, in the kind of tone she would use if she was discussing an article she had just read in Heat, ‘we only saw him two days ago.’
Dee said nothing.
‘There was someone at the cottage when it went up. He saved a woman’s life, stopped her going back in. Very brave. We asked him for an address. He gave us Jeff Hibbert’s. Why d’you think that was?’
‘How would I know?’
‘He didn’t give us Jeff Hibbert’s name, though. Said he was called Stuart Milton.’ She leaned closer. ‘Name mean anything to you?’
‘No.’ Dee’s voice was as flat and dead as her eyes were trying to be.
‘And then Jeff Hibbert goes and gets murdered just after our visit.’
‘Wasn’t cancer,’ said Deepak. ‘He was murdered.’
Dee’s mouth moved once more but no sound came out. ‘He … his wife said.’
‘And we can’t find this Stuart Milton anywhere. Have you got any photos of your brother?’ asked Jessie.
Dee, caught off guard once more, thrown by Jessie’s sudden change of questioning, couldn’t answer immediately. ‘I … Not to hand. No.’
‘None in the house?’ Incredulity in her voice.
‘We’re not that kind of family.’ Struggling to regain control.
Jessie smiled. ‘We’ll find one from somewhere, don’t worry.’
‘Why do you need one?’ Dee’s voice was rising, becoming shrill.
Jessie shrugged, smiled. ‘In an inquiry like this, we can’t rule anything out.’
Dee said nothing, but her eyes darted from one to the other, all round the room. Still rattled, thought Jessie, still uncomfortable. Good. Just where I want her.
‘Did you know that Stuart Sloane was released from jail yesterday?’
Dee just stared straight ahead. Jessie watched her face, her eyes. The woman seemed to be auditioning answers, deciding which one to give, which one would be best received.
‘I … we … heard something. No one informed us officially, though.’ She leaned forward, suddenly on the offensive. ‘I would have expected someone to have done that. Common courtesy if nothing else.’
Jessie shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Ms Sloane, but if we went round informing every victim of crime when a perpetrator was released, we’d have little time to do anything else.’
‘Be that as it may, someone should have informed us. Given the seriousness of the crime.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’ Jessie frowned, leaned forward too. ‘How d’you feel about it?’ Her voice light, genuinely enquiring.
‘How do I feel about what?’
‘Stuart Sloane being released. Aren’t you worried he might come after you again? Try to finish what he started?’
Dee opened her mouth to answer, bit the response off. Instead she thought for a few seconds. ‘We’re not worried. No. We don’t even know which part of the country he’s in.’
‘Although I’m sure you could find out if you wanted to.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Just that someone with your money and influence could find out where he was. If you wanted to.’