‘You know who I am?’
‘The name’s McGuire; I’m the head of CID here. I’ve forgotten more things than these guys know, but they still can’t catch me out. I recognise you from a photograph on our investigation file: it’s very thorough.’ He looked at Montell. ‘Have you ordered yet?’
‘Not yet, sir.’
‘In that case I’ll send you over a bottle of something. It’ll save you the embarrassment of asking Stevie to sign your expenses. There’s a South African riesling on the list; that okay?’
‘Excellent, thanks. And a fresh orange and soda for Tarvil, if you don’t mind.’
‘Your wish is my command.’ His gaze switched back to Barnes and became serious once more. ‘I don’t want to crowd you, so I’ll leave you with the lads. Once you’ve spoken to them, if there’s anything you’d like to take up with me, I’m not far away.’ He turned and walked away, around the corner and back to his table; in the window opposite, Montell saw Paula Viareggio, reflected.
‘He’s very impressive,’ David Barnes murmured. ‘He must have scared the crap out of a few villains in his time.’
‘He has,’ Singh told him, ‘not to mention a few police officers, like us two, right now. But if you really want scary, you want to meet his boss. Isn’t that right, Griff?’ Montell’s reply was no more than a grunt. ‘My colleague,’ Singh explained, ‘is walking a tightrope across the chasm of insanity by going out with the deputy chief constable’s daughter.’
Barnes smiled, as a waiter arrived bearing a tray with two glasses, a bottle in an ice bucket and Singh’s soft drink. ‘I want to thank you lads for this,’ he said, as the wine was poured. ‘I’ve been screaming inside since I spoke to Mum this morning. You’re being a great help to me.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ said Montell. ‘We feel for you. You should realise, David, that people like us, doing what we do, become very familiar with murder victims, even if they’re dead. We’re their advocates. We pursue justice on their behalf, and although we shouldn’t, often we become attached to them. We feel as if we knew Zrinka, and what we’ve learned about her has made us very fond of her. The same’s true of Stacey Gavin, and young Harry Paul.’
‘As for Amy,’ Singh added, ‘I really did know her. DI Steele and I went to see her the day before she was killed.’
‘In that case, you may know that she and I. .’
‘She told us that you’d met and. .’ He stopped. ‘She was really fond of you.’
‘It’s good to hear that. She was a nice kid.’
‘Which makes us all the more determined to catch the man who killed her,’ Montell told him. ‘We have open minds, David; you must appreciate that. At the same time we are determined to find this guy Padstow. He ties all of them together.’
‘How are you doing?’
‘We know who he is now.’ He raised an eyebrow at Singh, who nodded. ‘I reckon we can tell you. His real name is Daniel Ballester; he’s a journalist, of questionable reputation.’
‘I knew that,’ said Barnes.
‘You did?’
‘Yes. My sister told me, after they broke up. She said that he told her he was a lecturer in politics, doing some postgraduate study in Edinburgh. She believed it, and so did I when I met him, the first time I came up to visit her. I was just a little wary of him, given that he had popped up out of the blue and was living with Zrinka, our family being very wealthy and all, but his act was really good, and so was his cover story. I bought it too.’
‘How did Zrinka discover the truth about him?’
‘He slipped up: he left his passport on the table, she mistook it for hers and opened it.’
Singh leaned forwards. ‘Amy told us that they went to Amsterdam together. He couldn’t have flown as Padstow.’
‘He didn’t want to go. He kept making excuses, pleading poverty, but Zrinka was dead set on seeing the galleries there. He gave in eventually, but said that he’d handle all the arrangements, which he did, through a travel agent. He got away with it all the way through the trip, and for a little while after they got back. He was glib, and for maybe the only time in her life, she was gullible. Christ,’ Barnes muttered, ‘I can talk. He fooled me.’
‘After Zrinka saw the passport, what did she do? Come to you?’
‘She didn’t need to. She just entered the name into a search engine; she built a whole file on the guy, pictures, everything.’
‘And confronted him?’
‘No, she didn’t. She felt hurt by him, she felt betrayed, but she didn’t want a big scene. She simply told him that she didn’t love him, and that their relationship had run its course. She didn’t tell him that she knew who he was. She didn’t tell anyone except me, and eventually Stacey Gavin, when she discovered that Ballester had moved on to her.’
‘That explains a lot. It ties in exactly with what your mother told DCS McGuire and DI Steele.’
‘No doubt, but Mum never met the guy.’
‘And your father?’
‘He never even knew about the relationship. Our father is old-fashioned. He may have cut and run from Yugoslavia when he saw what was going to happen there, but he retains the strict Orthodox values with which he was raised, and they definitely do not allow for his daughter living with a man to whom she is not married. No, my father never knew about it, or he would have put his foot down.’
‘Could it be, David,’ Montell asked gently, ‘that your father did know but chose to do nothing to avoid provoking a split with his daughter? As you’ve told us, you and he are estranged. Is it possible he couldn’t face being at odds with both his children, so he turned a blind eye?’
‘Not in the slightest, I promise you. Davor Boras sees everything.’
Fifty-seven
‘Mags, love, I’m really sorry that this should happen, today of all bloody days, but the situation down here has developed in a way I didn’t anticipate. I’m waiting for some intelligence reports and then if I can find him there may be a man we need to call on. If I can, I’ll catch the last shuttle.’
‘Do you want me to pick you and Ray up?’
‘Hell, no, I’ll take a taxi. If I do make it I’ll be on my own. That smooth bastard Wilding’s made alternative arrangements, and as far as I can see they’re looking better by the minute. I promise, I’ll do my best to get home.’
‘Fine, just let me know; I’ll be in. As it happens I’m expecting a visitor in a couple of hours.’
‘Who?’
‘Bob Skinner. He called and asked me if he could visit to follow up something we spoke about yesterday. I’ll tell you what I can when you get back.’
‘What you can? What does that mean?’
‘You know the DCC, he also moves in mysterious ways. Love you.’
‘Me too. So long.’
Steele flipped his Motorola shut to end the call, then opened it again and dialled his office, only to be surprised when the desk sergeant answered the call. ‘Where are my troops?’ he asked.
‘On enquiries, you might say, sir. They’d a visitor, a guy called Barnes, and they went out with him.’
The inspector smiled. ‘Any excuse,’ he said, although he understood why the two constables would want to take Zrinka’s brother out of the depressing drabness of the office. He found the South African’s cellphone number in his directory and called it. ‘Are you still with Boras?’ he asked.
‘David? No, sir. Tarvil’s taking him up to the George Hotel and I’m walking back to the nick.’
‘He got our e-mail?’
‘Yes, boss; this morning, as soon as he got back from America. He got on the shuttle and came straight up.’
‘How was he?’
‘Cut up about his sister as you’d expect, but helpful. He’s dead certain that his father had no idea about her and Padstow living together.’
‘That more or less confirms Barker’s story.’
‘David knew about it, though, and he knew who he was. Zrinka discovered his real identity, and told David, but she persuaded him to keep it from her parents. She didn’t want them upset.’
‘No, she wouldn’t. She might not have wanted her father to do anything drastic, either.’