‘Sure, I knowing that.’ He smiled shyly and rubbed at his craggy face. ‘You are very kind persons, Miss Riley. We are like little family, I think.’ He rushed away downstairs, suddenly overcome by emotion and muttering about having to cook more meatballs.
He passed Palmer and Szulu on the way. The two men had come in response to Riley’s offer of lunch at the Belvedere in Holland Park, as a thank you for their help.
‘You know, I never got into this sort of trouble before I met you two,’ said Szulu, slumping onto the sofa. It had been a recurring theme ever since they had left Palatine House. ‘Mind you, I never got taken to no fancy restaurants, neither.’ He grinned. ‘I am so gonna give the menu a pastin’ man, I warn you.’
‘Suits me,’ said Riley approvingly. ‘You deserve it.’
Palmer nodded in agreement. ‘I second that. But,’ he gave Szulu a stern look, ‘you haven’t mentioned any of what you saw to your girlfriends, have you? We’ve got too much to lose.’
‘Hey, man — what you take me for?’ Szulu looked hurt. ‘I ain’t no blabbermouth. I’m a professional — I know when to keep it zipped.’
Before Palmer could say more, there was a knock on the door. Riley opened it.
It was DI Craig Pell. He was alone.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you,’ he said sternly. His eyes flicked past her shoulder and fixed on Palmer and Szulu.
‘I’m sorry,’ Riley replied, ushering him in. ‘I’ve been between the hospital and the vet’s surgery. Neither of them like people using their mobiles.’ She smiled sweetly, daring him to call her a liar. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘No, thanks.’ His eyes widened when he noticed the reddened skin on her neck and lower jaw.
Riley nudged him along, to stop him asking questions. ‘Was there something else?’
‘Uh, yes, actually. I got a report that there was a shooting on these premises. I need some details.’ He looked at them in turn, but Palmer was ignoring him and Szulu was pretending he was somewhere else.
‘The shooting was downstairs,’ said Riley firmly. ‘I was out. It was probably a case of mistaken identity.’
‘Yes. The old bloke downstairs says the same thing. At least, I think that’s what he said.’
‘Why are you investigating it? This isn’t your area, is it?’
‘My area is wherever I’m sent.’ He gave her a tight look and explained, ‘We have this new situations alert software that’s been installed. It’s pretty neat. Anything happening within a mile of a known address gets flagged for immediate attention.’ He smiled proudly.
‘Known?’ Riley’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What do you mean ‘known’? This isn’t a crack house!’
Pell’s smile vanished in an instant. ‘I’m sorry. It’s still in the trials stage and I entered your address as a test. I was… concerned.’ He puffed his lips and looked away, his face going pink around the edges.
Palmer exchanged a knowing look with Szulu.
‘Oh.’ Riley was slightly mollified. ‘In that case, thank you. But I don’t know anyone who’d want to harm a cat. Mr Grobowski said he thought the man may have been on drugs.’
‘Yes. Interesting man, Mr Grobowski.’ It seemed the nearest Pell was going to get to calling the elderly Pole a liar. ‘There’s also a report pending about a kidnapping outside a vet’s surgery. The same surgery where your cat was being treated for a gunshot wound. That was also flagged on our new system. The only eyewitness is now having doubts. She thinks it might have been a prank.’
They returned his stare with blank looks. He sighed. ‘I was told I’d have days like this. How is the cat, by the way?’
‘He’s fine. I’m bringing him home soon.’
‘That’s good.’ He cleared his throat and addressed Palmer. ‘We don’t have any new leads on Miss Bellamy’s murder, I’m afraid. The foreign national she met in west London seems to have disappeared… if he ever existed. But we’ll continue with the investigation, of course. I just want to warn you that we may never find out what happened. I’m sorry.’
Palmer nodded without comment.
‘You don’t seem surprised.’ Pell’s voice was dangerously soft. He waited for a few seconds, but when nothing was forthcoming, he shrugged. ‘I’ve got to go. Oh, one thing more: there was a serious ruckus in Euston three nights ago. Reports of shots, a vehicle blown up in the street and armed men inside an office building. No bodies, though.’
‘Really?’ Riley forced the word out through a dry throat, not daring to look at Palmer or Szulu. Where was this going? Did Pell know something or was he just fishing?
‘Yeah. It took place at a building called Pantile House. Like the one in the photo you were sent by Miss Bellamy.’ He glanced at Palmer. ‘Added to that, the building supervisor is missing and his family are all dead. A nasty business.’
Palmer returned the look with steady eyes. ‘What some people will do to get a cheap office.’
Pell seemed to subside, his tone softening. ‘There’s a possible link with a Serbian drugs gang. The dead man moved here to get away from them.’ He shook his head. ‘Obviously, it wasn’t far enough.’ He glanced at Riley and gestured towards the door. ‘Could we have a word? In private?’
Riley followed him out onto the landing. She could hear Mr Grobowski singing in his flat, a mournful dirge which, for him passed as light music.
The moment Pell’s eyes settled on her burns, she said, ‘Please don’t ask. I feel stupid enough already, without having it pointed out to me. I had an accident in the kitchen. It happens.’
‘Oh.’ He looked apologetic. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But that’s not what I was going to say.’
‘The answer’s, yes,’ she said, before he could elaborate. It was more for her sake than his, before she lost her resolve and shut herself away like a nun. John Mitcheson was out there somewhere, she knew that. And he might re-appear at any time. But life was for living, and time was too precious to sit around waiting for maybes. ‘Dinner,’ she continued, ‘anytime after today and anywhere you like except Korean. I tried it once and it didn’t agree with me.’
Pell grinned. ‘You don’t mess about, do you? How did you know I was going to ask?’
‘I didn’t. Haven’t you heard — we girls are doing it for ourselves these days.’ She looked at him with wide eyes. ‘Or am I being too forward? Only, if you’re not interested-’
‘I am. I am.’ He reached out and touched her arm, then snatched it back. ‘Uh, I’ll call you. Later.’
‘You’re not concerned, then?’
‘About what?’
‘About being seen fraternising with a member of the press. It might tarnish your image.’
He pretended to give the possibility serious consideration. ‘Actually, I’m more concerned about your accident rate. I’ve been reading up on you. Gangs on the Costa, DEA rogue agents, Colombian drugs. And now shot cats and domestic accidents. I hope it’s not catching.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?’
He fluttered his eyebrows, then turned away.
Riley watched him go back downstairs.
She was smiling.