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‘You’re incorrigible,’ said Carolyn.

‘Well I have to confess to enjoying a bit of rough every now and again,’ said Seb.

‘And did Mick specifically ask you to invite me?’

Seb’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can hear the wheels turning,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’

Carolyn laughed. ‘Nothing’s wrong. I just wondered if it was a coincidence, you know, my being invited and then Warwick bidding so much for the lunch.’

‘You think he’s a fan?’

‘Something like that,’ said Carolyn.

‘Seems a bit complicated,’ said Seb. ‘If he’d wanted to get to meet you I’m sure Mick could have mentioned it to me. I mean, Warwick’s a good looking guy, Carolyn. I’d have linked you up.’

‘Pimped me out, you mean,’ she laughed. She was making light of it but behind her laugh her mind was still in a whirl. Was Warwick Richards the man she’d seen in the house or not?  The man in the house wielding the crystal dolphin had been tall, dark and good-looking and Warwick Richards fitted that bill. But it had been at night and there had been reflections on the window and she had been drinking and, hand on heart, she wasn’t sure.

‘Do you know much about him?’

‘Just what I’ve heard, that he’s the owner and has an eye for the ladies.’

‘He’s not a gangster, is he?’

Seb laughed. ‘A what?’

‘You know what I mean, Seb. There are some very edgy people in the nightclub business.’

‘In the Sixties maybe, but these days?’ He shook his head. ‘They don’t let gangsters run nightclubs. The council pulls their licences at the first hint of anything like that.’ He grinned. ‘Having said that, I’ve definitely seen some very iffy people spending money in there. Sharp suits and broken noses and tarts with their tits out, but everyone’s as good as gold.’

‘He is good looking, isn’t he?’

‘Darling, I’ll swop yours for mine any day of the week. I think that woman who paid for me is expecting a nooner for her money.’

“I trust you’ll let her down gently,’ she said,

Seb’s car stayed outside her house until she let herself in, then his driver beeped the horn and drove off.  She keyed in the burglar alarm code, kicked off her high heels and poured herself a glass of red wine before phoning Terry. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked him.

‘Drinking wine and watching America’s Next Top Model,’ he said. ‘You?’

‘Just back from a charity do with Seb.’

‘Good that you want to put something back, darling.’

‘I think I met the guy from the house,’ said Carolyn.

‘Stay right where you are,’ said Terry. ‘I’m coming round.’

CHAPTER 35

 ‘You are shitting me,’ said Terry. ‘You’re pulling my chain, right?’ He was sprawled on one of Carolyn’s sofas holding an oversized glass of red wine.

‘I’m saying it might be him. I’m not a hundred percent sure.’

‘And you’re seeing him for lunch on Friday?’

‘I said I’d give him a tour of the studio. That way I can run him by you, see what you think.’

‘Darling, you’re the one who saw him bashing Cohen’s brains in. What do expect me to do?’

‘I just wanted you to meet him,’ said Carolyn. ‘He’s charming. And very good looking.’

‘But is he the man you saw in the house? That’s the only thing that matters.’

Carolyn sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘When I saw him walking across the room towards my table, I was certain. But the closer he got, the less certain I was. Then, when he started talking to me,..’  She shrugged.

‘He’s charming so he can’t be a killer? Is that it?’

‘He just seemed so nice. And what are the odds that the man I saw committing a murder would be at a charity dinner and would pay to have lunch with me?’

‘Anything’s possible, darling. Look at Elton John’s hair.’

Carolyn laughed. ‘If it was him, why would he want to have lunch with me.’

‘Is there any way he could have seen you at the house?’

‘I don’t think so.  As soon as the lights went on I was running for the gate. I’m sure they couldn’t have seen my face.’

‘You left your shoes behind.’

‘Bog standard Prada,’ said Carolyn. ‘It’s not as if I dropped my wallet. There’s no way he could have identified me from the shoes.’ She frowned. ‘What do you think? You think he knows I was there?’

‘If he didn’t see you, then obviously not. In which case it’s a coincidence. Assuming it is him you saw at the house.’

‘Oh, and he drives a Porsche Cayenne, not a Bentley.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I asked him. Told him I needed to talk to studio security.’

‘You little detective you,’ said Terry, raising his glass in salute. ‘You really have to think this through, Carolyn. Is it him or not? Because if it is him, you need to go to the cops now before it goes any further.’

‘I hear what you’re saying, really. But the more I try to remember, the fuzzier it becomes.’

‘Fuzzier?’

Carolyn sighed. ‘My memory’s never been great,’ she said. ‘I can remember lines but I’m terrible with dates and I really can’t remember faces. I’m forever introducing myself to people I’ve already met. And now when I think back to the house, I see his face but I’m not sure if it’s because I saw him tonight. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

Terry nodded. ‘They say eyewitness evidence is the most unreliable. Forensic or CCTV you can rely on, but if six people witness an accident they’ll each come up with a different version of what happened.’ He grinned. ‘My cop boyfriend told me that.’

‘I just don’t know,’ said Carolyn. ‘And if I’m wrong, I mean, how awful would that be to go to the police and blame someone for a murder if they didn’t do it? And we’re still not sure there’s been a murder.’

‘I rang the office today and Cohen still hasn’t been in,’ said Terry. ‘They were a bit terse when I rang this time.’

‘Terse?’

‘It’s been a week. I asked them if there was something wrong and the girl who I was speaking with said they were starting to get a bit worried.’ He swirled his wine around the glass thoughtfully. ‘You’re playing with fire, you know that?’

‘Only if he’s the one. He might just be a fan who happens to be tall, dark and handsome.’

‘Oh, so now we’ve upgraded him to handsome, have we?’

‘You know what I mean. I might just be jumping at shadows.’ She sipped her wine. ‘I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll get my private eye on the case.’

‘You’re private eye? What are you talking about?’

‘Max Dunbar. The guy who got that stalker off my back. I’ll get him to check Warwick out. He’s got access to all sorts of databases and stuff.’

‘And then what?’

‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,’ said Carolyn. ‘Let’s see what happens next Friday.’

‘Be careful, darling.’

‘I always am, Terry.’

CHAPTER 36

Richards brought his Porsche to a halt in front of the barrier and wound down the window as a uniformed security guard walked over holding a clipboard. ‘Warwick Richards,’ he said. ‘I’m here to see Miss Castle.’ It was Friday, just before noon.

The guard studied a list on his clipboard, nodded, and handed a security badge through the window before showing Richards where to park. ‘If you go to reception, somebody will be waiting for you there,’ said the guard.