‘But you were in hospital!’ Faye said in astonishment. ‘You can hardly call that a holiday. And I know for a fact that you had meetings with people from your office.’
‘Only one meeting,’ I said sheepishly.
Faye rolled her eyes. ‘Do you see what I have to put up with?’ she said to Henri, who laughed. Even Quentin laughed.
‘What’s this?’ I said. ‘Be Nasty to Jeff Week?’
‘She’s only trying to get you to come away with me for Christmas,’ Henri said.
I looked at Faye. ‘Are you?’ I knew she had been working on the assumption that I would, in the end, agree to stay with her and Quentin.
‘Absolutely. I think it’s a great idea.’
So did I.
‘But what will your uncle Richard say?’
‘I mentioned to him last night that I might ask you. He remembers you from Sandown. He liked you. In fact, he seemed very keen on the idea of you coming with us.’
‘OK,’ I said with a grin. ‘I’d love to.’
‘The Caribbean?’ Paul Maldini sounded more surprised than annoyed when I called him first thing on Tuesday morning.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘For Christmas and the New Year.’
‘Are you well enough for such a journey?’ Paul asked.
‘I reckon so,’ I said. ‘At least, I will be by then.’
‘What about your investigations?’
‘They will all wait,’ I said. ‘I’ve been told that I need to have a good rest in order to fully recover.’
I wasn’t going to tell him that it had been my sister who’d told me.
‘But how about all this Wisden Wonder business?’ he asked. ‘Who will investigate that, ready for the disciplinary panel?’
‘There’s plenty of time to get things done when I get back. Don’t worry. I’ll take some of my holiday entitlement. I’ve got loads of days left. It won’t cost the BHA anything.’
That seemed to placate him somewhat.
‘What if I need to contact you?’ he said.
‘My mobile will be on and I will try to pick up my e-mails.’
‘Well, I suppose it’s all right,’ he said reluctantly. ‘When do you go?’
‘Sometime next week.’
Detective Inspector Galvin called my mobile phone at lunchtime.
‘We’ve found Darryl Lawrence,’ he said.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘That’s a huge relief. Where was he?’
‘At Victoria tube station, just after eight thirty this morning.’
‘What does he say?’
‘Nothing. He’s dead.’
‘Dead!’
‘He fell in front of a train.’
‘Suicide?’
‘Possible,’ he said. ‘But I’d say it was unlikely. The northbound Victoria Line platform was extremely busy, totally packed full of commuters, with more coming down the escalators from the rail station every second. In my experience, suicides prefer to do it when it’s quieter, even deserted. I’d say it was more likely to be an accident. Or murder.’
‘Which?’
‘Can’t tell at present. Those nearby are in shock. I understand that no one the transport police have spoken to so far saw anything suspicious, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The travelling public are generally useless as witnesses. It’s as if people go into a trance when they travel on a train.’
I knew exactly what he meant. Following someone on the Tube was dead easy. Most people never looked beyond the end of their noses, largely out of fear of attracting the attention of a potential mugger or rapist.
‘So where does that leave us?’ I said.
‘There’s still his accomplice to find. Any further thoughts on what he looks like?’ He sounded bored.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Any luck with the CCTV at the hospital?’
‘Nothing useful. His face was covered, so it’s difficult to get a positive ID. And there’s not much more we can do.’
It was pretty clear that he was signing off on the investigation. I suppose I couldn’t blame him. On average, there were more than a hundred murders each year in London to be solved. I was just thankful that I hadn’t been one of them.
‘Are you still in contact with DS Jagger at Thames Valley?’ I asked.
‘Not lately. Is there anything new?’
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ I said. ‘But it wasn’t by chance that Lawrence and his chum tried to kill me. They knew me by name and I feel it may be tied to the previous attempt to kill me at Dave Swinton’s place.’
‘Does DS Jagger know you think that?’
‘It’s in my statement.’
‘Then I’m sure he will look into it.’
It didn’t sound very positive to me.
Coordination was one of the major problems with having so many different police forces: Thames Valley were investigating the Swinton death, British Transport Police would be responsible for looking into the Lawrence incident at Victoria, and DI Galvin himself was a member of the Metropolitan force.
The only common denominator seemed to be me.
I went home to my flat on Wednesday morning despite the urging of Faye to stay a while longer in Richmond.
‘I need some clean clothes,’ I said.
‘I do have a washing machine, you know. Or I could fetch some for you.’
‘Faye, my darling, the man who was trying to kill me is himself dead. It will be perfectly safe for me to go back home now.’
I wondered if I was trying to convince myself as much as I was her.
‘But you said he was a paid killer,’ she said in desperation. ‘How do you know there won’t be someone else paid to kill you?’
Good point.
‘I’ll be careful,’ I said.
Hence I made Faye drive slowly past my flat twice in order for me to check that there was no one lurking outside my front door.
It did nothing to ease her state of anxiety.
When I was finally satisfied that there were no miscreants hiding in the bushes, she parked outside and helped me carry my stuff, being careful first to check that nobody was waiting for me within.
Faye went into every room. The place was deserted.
Nevertheless, she was reluctant to leave and I had to shoo her away, assisted in the end by a traffic warden who threatened to give her a ticket if she didn’t move her car.
I stood on the pavement and waved at her as she drove off, wondering if I was doing the right thing. But I couldn’t hide away in Richmond for ever. I had to confront my fears and get on with my life because, if I didn’t, I’d have no chance of finding out who was behind it all, and why.
I finally unpacked the boxes, removing things slowly piece by piece from where they lay in the hallway, so as not to carry anything heavy. I also washed up the stack of dirty dishes in the sink and cleaned the place from one end to the other, including removing slimy fingerprint powder from all the surfaces in the kitchen and hall.
After three hours’ work, interspersed with several lengthy rests, the flat looked almost presentable, but I was exhausted. I slumped down into an armchair in my sitting room and put my feet up on the freshly polished coffee table.
I really did need to get my strength back.
My landline phone rang.
I stared at it. Not again.
‘Hello,’ I said gingerly, picking it up.
‘Just checking you’re all right,’ said Faye down the line.
I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I’ve been clearing up. You wouldn’t recognize the place.’
‘But you’re meant to be taking it easy.’
‘Don’t fuss,’ I said. ‘You hate it when I fuss over you.’
‘That’s different,’ she said. ‘I don’t need to be told to take things easy. You do.’
‘OK,’ I said, admitting defeat. ‘I promise to take things easy.’