‘Please tell me.’
Faye studied her for a moment, then said, ‘It was one of the bones of contention between us. Hugh’s secrecy. And his business. It seemed there was always something going on, always some more important client, buyer or seller to meet, and I was... Well, it was always more important than me.’
‘You felt you were relegated to second place?’
‘Yes. Or third.’
‘Did you know who this man he met that night was?’
‘No. Hugh just said he was a business contact and he wouldn’t be long.’
‘Do you have any idea what they talked about?’
‘No. It was pretty crowded and noisy. Like I said, I was at the bar chatting. I wasn’t interested in Hugh’s business meetings. Why are you asking all this? What has he done? He must have done something, or you wouldn’t be asking me all these questions.’
‘It’s more the man he met that we’re interested in,’ Zelda lied. ‘Along with the Tadić brothers.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you there. I know nothing about them. I wouldn’t be surprised if that Goran Tadić wasn’t up to his neck in something dirty, though. He had that aura about him.’
‘Could you tell me anything more about the meeting in the Italian restaurant, from what you saw — your impressions, whatever?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did they appear to be arguing, problem-solving, joking?’
‘It was just ordinary, really. Just a discussion.’
‘Neither one was angry or particularly animated? No raised voices?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Who did most of the talking?’
‘Well, whenever I looked over to see if he was finished, Hugh seemed to be talking. I did see the other man try to interrupt once, but Hugh cut him off sharply.’
‘As if he was telling him to do something? Lecturing him? Giving him orders?’
‘Or giving him a bollocking. Just a mild one.’
So perhaps Hawkins wasn’t warning Keane about her, after all, Zelda thought. Their meeting could have been about something else entirely, something to do with whatever it was that connected them. ‘Did they exchange anything?’
‘Like what?’
‘Objects, pieces of paper, briefcases, that sort of thing.’
‘No, nothing as far as I could tell. You mean like spies? Is he a spy, this man? Is Hugh a spy? Are you?’
‘When did you stop seeing Hugh Foley?’
‘A couple of months ago.’
‘Why? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘I can’t see as it’s any of the police’s business, but in addition to what I’ve already told you, he was a bit of a bastard. I mean, there was already the important business stuff, and the secrecy, and how he was always disappearing; he was really unreliable, not turning up for dates and so on. But in the end it was the fact that he cheated on me that did it. The straw that broke the camel’s back, you might say. Or at least my back.’
‘Who with?’
‘There was more than one. I suspected for a while.’
‘You caught him red-handed?’
Faye nodded. ‘Eventually.’ She lowered her voice. ‘In flagrante.’ Then she put her hand to her mouth and started laughing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But you had to be there. It was in the hotel. I went up once when he wasn’t expecting me.’
‘And he answered the door?’
‘Yes. Opened it a crack. He wouldn’t let me in, of course, said he wasn’t feeling well, but I could tell what was going on. I even caught a glimpse of her in the mirror.’
Zelda smiled.
‘It was no big deal,’ Faye went on. ‘We weren’t serious or anything. It was just a bit of fun. I wasn’t heartbroken.’
‘Still,’ said Zelda. ‘A girl doesn’t like to be two-timed.’
‘Damn right. But I didn’t shoot the both of them, or set fire to the bed, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Zelda laughed. ‘Good. Then I really would have to arrest you.’
Faye seemed uncertain for a moment whether she was joking, then she must have seen the humour in Zelda’s expression, because she started laughing again. ‘He was a bastard, plain and simple,’ she said finally. ‘It’s not as if he’s the only one. There are plenty more where he came from. Sometimes I think all men are bastards.’
‘Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,’ Zelda said. ‘Have you seen him since?’
‘No way. Cross me once, and you don’t get another chance.’
‘Who was the new girl?’
‘No idea. Never saw her before. Or since.’
‘Foley hasn’t stalked you, harassed you in any way?’
‘Lord, no.’
‘Tell me about some of these people you met. The Eastern Europeans. Did you and Hugh socialise with them?’
‘Yes. Usually at the hotel. They all seemed to hang out there a lot. The others usually had pretty girls on their arms, but the conversation was never up to much. You know the sort of thing.’
‘Did you ever hear what they were talking about?’
‘Only if we were all chatting together, you know. But some of the girls hardly spoke English.’
‘Chatting about what?’
‘Small talk, usually. The weather. Brexit. Movies. Football.’
‘But not business?’
‘Hugh knew it bored me. If they wanted to talk business, they would go off by themselves and do it.’
Zelda was almost convinced that Faye had nothing to do with Keane’s secret, evil world. ‘You’re best out of it,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘They’re dangerous people, Faye. Take my word for it. You got out of their world without any serious emotional damage. You should put Hugh Foley right out of your mind and get on with your life. Are you seeing anyone else yet?’
‘As a matter of fact, I am.’
‘May I ask who?’
Faye paused. ‘Well, it’s none of your business, but it’s someone here. At work.’
‘Nothing to do with Foley and his pals?’
‘You must be joking.’
‘Good,’ said Zelda. ‘Excellent.’ She stood up and Faye did likewise. ‘I’m sorry to intrude on your day. I don’t think I’ll have to bother you again.’
‘It’s no bother, really,’ said Faye. ‘Quite exciting, really, being questioned by the NCA. My affair with a master criminal.’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ said Zelda, smiling. ‘And it might be best if you weren’t to tell anyone about our meeting.’
Faye put her finger to her mouth. ‘My lips are sealed.’
At least Banks’s office didn’t resemble a government waiting room or an administrative annex, he thought. It had comfortable chairs around a low glass table and looked out over the market square, catching a little evening sunshine through its large sash windows, one of which was open a few inches. Banks had no idea what the couple’s story was — they had just appeared in reception around six o’clock saying they were the dead boy’s aunt and uncle from Huddersfield — but he had a feeling that the offices of foreign authority figures probably had bad memories for them. Even with Annie present, just back from Le Coq d’Or, the room didn’t seem overcrowded.
They were in their late thirties, Banks guessed, and definitely of Middle Eastern origin. The uncle wore a brown suit, white shirt and loose tie, and his wife a western-style long dress that covered every inch of her except her head, over which she wore a simple green silk headscarf as a hijab, covering her head and framing her face and frightened brown eyes. She sat erect, knees together, clutching a brown faux-crocodile handbag on her lap. The uncle seemed more relaxed, legs crossed, leaning back in his chair a little. But his eyes also showed nervousness and had dark shadows under them. Banks knew it couldn’t have been easy for them to come to the police, and he wondered if that was what had delayed them.