‘I’m sorry if I sounded like I was quizzing you.’
‘You were quizzing me, but you’re entitled. I’m a stranger, and you can’t be too careful with strangers. He popped the prawn into his mouth, chewed and swallowed.
‘So is there a Mr Castle?’
‘There are three former Mr Castles,’ said Carolyn. ‘All well in the past, thank God. You?’
‘Never had a Mr Castle,’ said Richards.
‘What about a Mrs Richards?’
Richards shook his head.
‘So, no kids?’
‘No, I have a son. Jamie. But he’s with his mum. We never married. I see him every few weeks and over the school holidays.’
‘How old?’
‘Fourteen.’
‘Ah, so he thinks you know nothing and everything you do is an embarrassment?’ said Carolyn.
‘Got it in one,’ said Richards.
‘I’ve a fourteen-year-old son, courtesy of Mr Castle Number One.’
‘Does he live with you?’
‘I share custody, but he’s at boarding school so I see him mainly during his holidays. My work schedule is so stupid he tends to stay with his father. We Skype, though.’
Richards laughed. ‘Yeah, how did we manage before Skype? It’s brilliant isn’t it?’
‘I dunno, I think I prefer phones so I don’t have to see the look of contempt.’
They both laughed and Carolyn realised with a jolt that she was totally at ease in his company. That didn’t make any sense. She was still interviewing him as a potential murder suspect, yet here she was swapping stories about bringing up teenagers.
‘Can I make a confession?’ he asked.
Carolyn’s jaw dropped. ‘What?’
‘A confession,’ he said. ‘Before I met you, I really did think you were the bitch from hell.’
‘Seb telling stories out of school, was he?’
Richards laughed and his eyes sparkled. ‘Of course not. I’ve never seen him at the club. No, I guess I’d formed my impression from what I’d seen on TV.’
‘You really thought I was Diana?’
‘Sure. I think everyone does, right? Hardly anyone gets to see the real you.’
‘And your point is?’
‘My point is the real you is quite something.’ He clinked his glass of water against hers. ‘I’m glad we did this.’
‘You know, so am I,’ said Carolyn.
‘Is there any way I could persuade you to do this again?’
‘What, lunch in the staff canteen?’
Richards laughed. ‘I had in mind a proper meal with champagne. I tell you what, if you’re still worried I might be a stalker, why not come to the club with Seb? We can have a decent bottle of champagne and we can eat on the terrace.’
‘I never thought you were a stalker,’ said Carolyn. ‘And, like I said, I do feel bad about you paying twenty-six grand for a seafood spaghetti. But I prefer red wine to champagne, it has to be said.’
‘So is that a yes?’
‘It’s a definite maybe,’ she said. ‘One Saturday, maybe. Let me talk to Seb.’
‘You’ve got my card,’ said Richards. ‘I’ll leave the ball in your court.’ He sniffed and cocked his head on one side.’
‘I really like that perfume,’ he said. ‘Chanel?’
‘Coco Mademoiselle,’ she said. ‘It’s been my favourite for a while.’
‘Well it’s my favourite now,’ said Richards. He grinned. ‘How corny did that sound?’
‘Fairly corny,’ she laughed. ‘But I’ll take compliments in any shape or form.’
They finished lunch and Carolyn walked Richards out to the car park. ‘Nice,’ she said when she saw his Porsche. ‘I like SUVs. I always feel so much safer in them.’
‘What do you drive?’ asked Richards.
‘Most of the time I’m driven, these days,’ she said. ‘But I have an Audi TT.’
‘Now that is a nice motor,’ he said.
‘It’s nippy,’ said Carolyn. ‘It’s not the car of my dreams, though.’
‘Yeah? What would you prefer?’
‘If I had the room, a Bentley,’ she said. ‘But my parking space is tight and the house doesn’t have a garage. Leaving a Bentley on the street would be asking for trouble.’
‘Yeah, there’s a lot of envy out there,’ said Richards. He smiled as he looked into her eyes, trying to work out whether she was testing him about the Bentley or if it had been a chance remark. ‘Red,’ he said.
‘Red?’
‘That’s the colour of your underwear.’ He blew her a kiss and got into his car. She was still laughing as he drove away.
CHAPTER 38
Filming continued pretty much non-stop during the afternoon and it wasn’t until just after six that Carolyn was able to talk to Terry. He was in the props room, working on a set of files that Seb would be holding in a close-up later that week. ‘So what do you think?’ she asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.
‘He’s good enough to eat, isn’t he?’
Carolyn laughed. ‘Well that’s an image that will stay with me until my dying day,’ she said.
‘What’s more important is do you think it’s him? Was he the guy you saw at Nicholas Cohen’s house?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Carolyn. ‘Seriously. The first time I saw him I thought he was, but now I’m not so sure.’
‘You can’t remember?’ asked Terry, sitting back in his chair.
‘I’ve got a terrible memory for faces, Terry. I just have. I can’t remember what my mum looks like. I mean, I can, but all the memories I have are based on her photographs. That’s the face I see.’
‘What are you saying? The man in your memory doesn’t have a face?’
‘No, now he has Warwick’s face but I’m not sure if that’s because my memory is playing tricks on me or because I’m deliberately picturing him there.’ She shrugged. ‘That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?’
‘No, it doesn’t sound stupid at all. I understand what you’re saying. The police always say that eyewitness evidence is the most unreliable. No one has a perfect memory.’
‘It doesn’t feel like it’s him,’ she said. ‘But that might be because he’s such a nice guy.’
‘And handsome.’
‘And handsome,’ agreed Carolyn. She pushed herself off Terry’s desk and began pacing up and down.
‘Ted Bundy was handsome and he killed a hell of a lot of women,’ said Terry.
‘Warwick’s not a serial killer, he might have killed Nicholas Cohen but…’ She shrugged and didn’t finish the sentence. ‘I just don’t know, Terry.’
‘Why not just talk to the police?’
Carolyn stopped pacing and folded her arms. ‘And say what?’
‘Well for a start tell them you think you might have seen Richards smack an accountant over the head.’
‘And if I’m wrong?’
‘If you’re wrong then he can tell the cops where he was at the time and all’s right with the world.’
‘And then he sues me for libel.’
‘He won’t know it was you.’
Carolyn laughed. ‘You know the cops talk to the press every chance they get,’ she said. ‘It’s me, Terry. If I so much as go out without make-up on it’s at the top of the Mail’s website. And remember that time I put on a few pounds? The tabloids were all over me. So think what they’ll be like if they know I’m involved in a murder investigation.’ She went back to lean against his desk.
‘I think you’re worrying too much.’
‘Yeah, well, you work in a bloody office and no one knows who the hell you are. I’m in the public eye and trust me, if it gets out that I witnessed a murder it’ll be all over the papers.’