Mel nodded. ‘My dad ran off with his secretary two years ago.’
‘Sorry.’
‘And yours?’
‘No. They seem quite happy. But then, Dominique is nothing like my mother.’
‘Or anyone’s mother.’
‘It’s strange,’ I said. ‘She didn’t seem like a real person at the time, and she seems even less like one now that she’s dead.’
‘Yes,’ said Mel. ‘It’s easy to forget that someone has died.’ She shook her head. ‘What if Tony did kill her? I was with him just twenty-four hours before.’ Her face filled with disgust, for herself as much as for Tony, I imagined.
‘Don’t beat yourselves up,’ said Ingrid. ‘You were both taken advantage of by two very manipulative people. Tony was trying to prove to himself he can pull girls better than his son. Dominique was having her piece of petty revenge. It wasn’t either of your faults.’
‘Of course it was my fault,’ said Mel. ‘I let him do it. In fact, I was a willing accomplice. It seemed so glamorous, so grown-up. I thought I was in control.’ A tear ran down her cheek. ‘You know the worst thing, David?’
‘What?’
‘I really like Guy. I had just about decided that he was the one that, you know... What’s happened has just made me realize how much I like him. And of course now he won’t talk to me. He won’t ever talk to me again.’ She fought back a sob.
Once again I marvelled at the effect Guy could have on girls. And on this one it was clearly deeper than superficial physical attraction. Did he know? Did he care?
‘I’m pretty sure I’ve lost him as a friend,’ I said. ‘If he ever was my friend. He was furious with all of us when I saw him this morning: you, me, his father.’
‘I’ll tell you what I think,’ said Ingrid. ‘You’ve both had a bad time. But we’re all young. We can learn from it. You can’t feel guilty about it for ever. Those two, Tony and Dominique, were fucked up. You can’t let them fuck you up too.’
She was right, of course, but Mel and I had plenty of guilt to wallow in.
The police came to see us once more that day. They wanted to check the shoes we had been wearing the previous evening. They had found a footprint, I supposed. Not much good that would do them, we had all been tramping around everywhere from what I remembered. But I gave them mine, again.
There was no sign of Tony. Presumably he was still at the police station, answering questions. Guy managed to avoid us that afternoon and evening and Owen was tucked away in his room playing with his portable computer. But we did see Hoyle. He spent most of the time ensconced with Guy somewhere upstairs, but he dropped in on Ingrid, Mel and me in the living room before he left.
He was wearing a baggy tan suit and a tie, and beads of sweat sparkled on his broad forehead with the exertion of running up and down the stairs. ‘I trust Miguel is taking good care of you?’
‘He certainly is,’ Ingrid answered. She had used her Portuguese to charm the servant and he had responded by looking after us very well.
‘Good, good. Let me know if you have any problems. But I’m sure Tony will be back tonight.’
‘Mr Hoyle?’ Ingrid said as he tried to leave.
‘Yes?’ He frowned. He had things to do.
‘Can you tell us how the investigation is going? We’ve been left in the dark up here.’
‘Of course,’ Hoyle said reluctantly, lowering himself on to the edge of an armchair. ‘As you know, they’re interviewing Tony at the moment. But they haven’t arrested him yet, and I don’t think they’re going to. He’s innocent, and I’m quite sure we can prove it.’
‘How?’ I asked. ‘Does he have an alibi?’
‘Yes. But not a reputable one.’ A companion from the Nice bordello Guy had mentioned, I thought. ‘No, we’re, um...’ Hoyle hesitated, ‘working on something else.’
‘So who did kill Dominique?’ Ingrid asked.
‘It must have been a thief. Someone broke in in the middle of the night, stole some jewellery and disturbed her. When she saw him, he suffocated her with the pillow. She had taken heroin, so she was probably disoriented.’
‘So there’s some jewellery missing?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Just her day-to-day stuff. But still worth a few hundred thousand francs.’
‘And the police are certain she was suffocated?’
‘They’ve done the post-mortem. She had some heroin in her bloodstream, but it wasn’t an overdose. She died of asphyxiation. And the pillowcase was missing.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means the murderer got rid of it to avoid leaving any traces for the police to find. After he’d used the pillow to smother her.’
‘Do you have any idea why they wanted to examine our shoes?’
‘Not specifically. But it’s good to hear they’re checking other leads. They probably realize they’ve got the wrong man.’ He shook his head. ‘I still can’t believe Dominique has been murdered. It just doesn’t seem real. Tony and I have been in some scrapes together, but nothing like this.’
I nodded in agreement. It all seemed totally unreal to me.
Hoyle checked his watch. ‘I need to get back to Beaulieu. I’ve got Tony a good criminal lawyer, the best in Nice. But I want to make sure they don’t try to keep him in the station overnight.’
With that he heaved himself up out of the armchair and left us.
Sure enough, he returned an hour later with an exhausted-looking Tony. They ignored us and shut themselves in the study. Tony clearly wasn’t off the hook yet.
I went to bed but stayed awake reading my book. Guy came in at about eleven. He ignored my greeting, quickly stripped off his clothes and jumped into bed.
I carried on reading.
After a minute or so, Guy leaned on his elbow and glared at me. ‘Turn the fucking light off, Lane.’
I turned the light off. It took me a long time to get to sleep that night.
I was woken by a violent banging. I opened my eyes to see the door flung open. It was Sauville and two uniformed gendarmes. Morning sunlight streamed in behind them.
‘What the...?’ Guy began.
Sauville’s eyes scanned the floor and found a pair of trainers. He picked one up and glanced at the sole.
‘Is this yours?’ he demanded of Guy.
‘Er... Yes.’
‘Put on your clothes and come with me down to the police station. You are under arrest.’
Guy sat up in bed. ‘I’m what?’
‘You heard me.’
‘That’s stupid!’ Guy protested. ‘You’ve got no reason to arrest me. I didn’t kill anybody!’
Sauville picked up some of the clothes at the end of Guy’s bed and flung them at him. ‘Get dressed!’
Guy swung himself out of bed and put them on, glaring at Sauville the whole time.
Sauville muttered something in French to one of the policemen behind him. The man produced a pair of handcuffs, gesturing for Guy to hold up his arms. Guy stared at the cuffs, as if he was only just realizing what was happening to him, and slowly did as he was told. They closed around his wrists with a snap.
‘Good luck,’ I said.
Guy turned towards me. For a moment I thought he was going to ignore me again. But then he spoke. ‘This is all bullshit. They have nothing on me.’
‘We will see,’ said Sauville, as the policeman grabbed Guy by the elbow and shoved him roughly out of the room.
15
May 1999, Wapping, London
‘So, how did you do last night?’ Guy asked. The two of us plus Owen were getting down to work in the cramped Wapping flat. It was the Wednesday after the Tuesday before.
‘Not too well. It was a zoo. I couldn’t get a word in.’