Streetwise (22 page)

‘I’m just trying to establish the nature of their relationship.’

‘There
wasn’t
any relationship,’ said Carlisle firmly. ‘Well, nothing beyond the normal parameters of business.’

‘Are you certain of that?’

‘He’s a married man, for heaven’s sake.’ Carlisle cleared his throat. ‘He and Amanda are…were… No, there was nothing like that going on. I’d have noticed. I’d have known about it.’

Valerie wasn’t so sure. Couples who were having illicit affairs would take extra care in the company of others. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But now, can I take you back to Saturday night. How exactly did you hear about the shooting of Jeremy Squires?’

Carlisle seemed to relax a little, as if now on safer ground. ‘Eddie Barnes called me. I’ve known him for years. He was having a dinner party and the Squires had been invited, but only Amanda turned up. Jeremy was supposed to be joining them later but… well, you know what happened next. The police found Amanda’s number on his phone and called to let her know. Once she was on her way to the hospital, Eddie gave me a ring.’

‘And then you rang Lydia,’ Valerie said.

‘That’s right.’

‘Why?’ asked Butler.

‘Pardon me?’

Butler leaned his elbows on the desk. ‘Why exactly did you call her? If Jeremy was just a customer, why the urgency in letting Lydia know?’

A frown settled on Carlisle’s forehead. ‘There wasn’t any urgency except… I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t want her to see it on the TV.’ His hands resumed their restless dance, his fingers intertwining, parting, coming together again. ‘I called a few people, not just Lydia.’

Valerie suspected that Carlisle was the kind of man who revelled in passing on bad news. He had probably called everyone he knew to relay the information and gossip about how a respectable businessman like Squires had been shot outside a sleazy lap-dancing club in Shoreditch. ‘Do you know where she was when you called her?’

Carlisle shook his head. ‘She didn’t say. I didn’t think to ask.’

‘Could you hear any noise in the background – traffic, music, the TV, that kind of thing?’

‘No, I don’t think so. Nothing that I recall.’

‘And how did she react when you told her?’

Carlisle lifted a hand to his face and rubbed at his chin. ‘She was… upset… shocked… she didn’t say much.’

‘So she sounded surprised?’

‘Of course she was surprised. I mean, you read about this kind of thing, see it on the news, but you don’t expect…’

‘No,’ Valerie said.

‘But I had no idea that she’d take it so badly. Is that why she…? But surely not. Was there a note? Did she say why?’

‘I’m afraid not. How long had Lydia been working here?’

‘Since the summer. July. Yes, it was the beginning of July, I believe.’ Carlisle moved his hands down into his lap and then back on to the table again. ‘It really is too terrible. A young girl like that. Dreadful. What a waste.’

Valerie wasn’t sure what made her ask the next question. Simple curiosity, perhaps, as to how Lydia Hall had ended up here. ‘How did she get the job? Was it through an advert, an agency?’

Carlisle frowned again. ‘What does that matter?’

‘It probably doesn’t, but if you could just humour me.’

‘Well, as it happens it was Guy Wilder. He asked me to consider her. He knew I was looking for a new assistant and thought she might be suitable.’

Valerie glanced quickly at Butler, but of course he hadn’t been there at the interview with Wilder. ‘Oh,’ she said, feigning ignorance. ‘So Lydia was friendly with Mr Wilder?’

‘Yes. I believe so. She used to go to the bar quite often.’

Valerie gave a nod. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

With her questions finished as regards Lydia Hall, Butler continued with his own line of enquiry.

‘How well did you know Jeremy Squires?’

‘Oh, I’ve known him for years. He’s a collector, a business acquaintance. Sometimes our paths crossed at various social events.’

‘And what kind of a man was he?’

Carlisle gave a light shrug of his shoulders. ‘Decent, honest, trustworthy. A family man. He was a councillor too, you know. Yes, he was well liked and respected in the local community.’

‘Mr Perfect, then?’

Carlisle’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Well, I doubt if many of us qualify for that particular status. All I’m saying is that
I’ve
never heard a bad word said about him.’

‘And when was the last time you saw Mr Squires?’

‘Now, let me see… it must have been last Thursday. Yes, that was the day we had the exhibition. He came in the afternoon with his wife.’

‘And who did he talk to?’

Carlisle raised his hands in an exasperated fashion. ‘I really have no idea, Chief Inspector. The gallery was crowded. I don’t follow my clients around to see who they’re conversing with.’

‘Was Danny Street here by any chance?’

The question, coming out of the blue, clearly flustered Carlisle. ‘No. What? Why should he be?’

‘But you do know him?’

‘Yes. No. I mean, I know
of
him. I know who he is. But we’re not… I’m not personally acquainted with him.’

Butler left a short silence during which Carlisle didn’t meet his gaze. ‘Okay, well, I think that’s about it.’ He looked at Valerie. ‘You all done?’

‘Only one last thing. Does the name Ava mean anything to you, Mr Carlisle?’

‘Ava? Do you mean Ava Gold?’

Valerie stared across the desk. ‘You know her?’

‘Hardly. I’ve met her once… no, twice. A dark-haired girl, yes? But I always remember names. It’s something that I pride myself on. She was here last Thursday as it happens. She came to the exhibition.’

Valerie’s eyes flashed with interest. ‘Did she indeed. Do you know if she came with anyone?’

‘I’m afraid not. As I mentioned earlier, it was a busy day. When I spoke to her – and that was only briefly – she was on her own.’

Valerie pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Thank you for talking to us. We appreciate it, especially at this difficult time.’

Carlisle looked relieved as he escorted them back to the front door. ‘A tragic business. I’m only sorry I couldn’t be of more help.’

As soon as they were on the street, Valerie turned to Butler and said, ‘Well, there’s a turn up for the books. Ava and Squires in the same place at the same time last week. So much for the two of them never having met.’

Ava dashed from the Kia to the Mercedes, shook the rain from her hair, turned on the heat and then sat and waited for Chris Street to come out of the house. It was a miserable morning, cold and wet and grey. The rain was bucketing down, hammering on the roof of the car and streaming down the windscreen. She had a strangely claustrophobic feeling, as if her darkest thoughts were closing in on her.

She drummed her fingers on the wheel, impatient to be off. Where was he? The longer she had to wait, the more time she had to dwell on things. Lydia’s face rose into her mind and she tried to push it away. With suicide, there was always a legacy of guilt. It was impossible to still those persistent voices, those nagging doubts about whether you could have done more.

All the same, she preferred to be here rather than at home. The atmosphere at the flat was fraught, with Tash and Hannah barely talking to each other. The relationship was on its knees, slowly disintegrating, and it was only a matter of time before it all fell apart. And that, of course, wasn’t the only thing she had to worry about. A man she didn’t know had called out her name as he lay dying.
Ava, Ava.
What the hell was she supposed to do about that?

Suddenly, above the sound of the rain, she heard the front door slam and seconds later Chris was climbing into the car.

‘Morning,’ he said. ‘Still at liberty, then? I thought you might be running errands for some fat dyke in Holloway by now.’

She gave him a cool look. ‘Ha, ha. I’m glad you find it all so amusing.’

‘Still got Old Bill on your back?’

‘Yes. They’re convinced, unsurprisingly, that I must have something to do with Squires. Did you manage to find out anything from Danny?’

Chris pulled his seat belt across, shaking his head at the same time. ‘Sorry, he disappeared before I got the chance to have a proper talk. But he said he’d meet us in the Fox at lunchtime. You can ask him all you want then.’

‘Oh, okay,’ she said, not entirely looking forward to the rendezvous. Danny Street freaked her out and she didn’t relish the prospect of having to be closer than a few feet from him or to ask him anything face to face. She’d been hoping that Chris would ask the difficult questions for her. ‘So where to? Where do you want to go?’

‘Shoreditch.’

‘Belles? Isn’t it closed? I thought the cops would still be crawling all over the place.’

‘They are. I want to go to Maple Street. You know where that is?’

Ava breathed out a sigh as she drove the Merc through the gates and on to Walpole Close. ‘Why do you always ask me if I know where places are? I’ve been driving round London for years.’

‘Are we a touch irritable this morning?’

‘Yeah, well, you’d be irritable if…’

Chris Street glanced at her, raised his hand and rubbed at his chin. ‘Oh, shit, sorry. I should have thought. Was that girl – Lydia is it? – was she… was she a good friend of yours?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I hardly knew her, but that’s half the problem.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

And then, before she knew it, Ava was telling him all about Tash’s infatuation and how she’d had to cover when Hannah started asking questions. ‘So you see, the cops now think that I was the one who was close to Lydia and even if Tash tells them the truth, they’re not going to believe her. They’re just going to think that she’s covering because we’re mates.’

‘My, those lesbians have mighty complicated love lives.’

Ava snorted. ‘Well, I don’t think you need to be lesbian to have complications in that department. If I remember rightly it wasn’t that long since you were rushing round to Wilder’s with —’

‘Yeah, yeah, no need to remind me. I get it. We all make mistakes, huh?’

She gazed through the rain-soaked windscreen as the wipers flipped back and forth. ‘Anyway, none of that explains why Jeremy Squires was calling out my name.’

‘The guy had just been shot. He was probably delirious.’

‘But why Ava, for God’s sake? Why, of all the names in the world, did he have to pick on mine?’ She tapped the wheel in frustration. ‘You’re sure Danny didn’t say anything after the shooting? I mean, he was there with Squires. He must know something.’

‘He says they were chatting about cars.’ Chris gave her a sideways glance. ‘What do you reckon, then? Was Lydia the one? Did she do it?’

‘I’ve no idea. There’s nothing to suggest that she was actually involved with Squires, but then there’s nothing to say she wasn’t either. And she was upset,
really
upset, on Saturday night. But… I don’t know… It’s all a damn mess.’

‘Maybe Lydia mentioned your name to him and it just kind of stuck in his head.’

‘So much so that he’s calling it out on his deathbed?’

‘Well…’

‘Exactly. It doesn’t make a blind bit of sense.’

By the time they reached the border of Shoreditch, Ava hadn’t gleaned any more information than she’d had on waking up that morning. She felt frustrated and anxious, scared that her life was about to spiral out of control. Although she kept telling herself that the police couldn’t prove anything – there was nothing to prove – the tightness in her chest remained.

She manoeuvred the Mercedes carefully through the line of traffic until they arrived at Maple Street. When they reached a wide office block covered in scaffolding and tarpaulins, Chris told her to pull in beside it. He sat and stared at the building for a minute or two.

‘Not much work going on,’ he said eventually.

‘It’s not really the weather for it.’

‘But not inside either. Look, it’s all locked up.’

Ava peered through the rain. ‘What is this place?’

‘It’s supposed to be Borovski’s new casino. But I heard a rumour that he’s pulled out, that he’s decided to open up in Whitechapel instead. Seems like that rumour could be true.’

‘And that matters because?’

‘Because we’ve got a deal with him. Or at least, we thought we had. And now he’s pissing off somewhere else.’

‘And hasn’t told you.’

‘Not a word. He was trying for that place in Whitechapel for ages, but couldn’t get the planning permission. That’s why he decided to come here.’

‘Must have twisted someone’s arm. Maybe he’s got a friend on the council.’

‘Bunged them a fortune, more like.’ Chris raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Shit, this is all I need.’ He opened the door to the car. ‘There must be someone about. I’m going to have a butcher’s.’

As soon as Chris had left, Ava got out her mobile and called her father. His voice, when he answered, sounded strained and hoarse.

‘Are you okay, Dad?’

‘It’s just a bit of flu, love. Nothing to worry about. I’ll be right as rain in a couple of days. How are you? No more trouble from the law, I hope.’

‘Nothing serious,’ she said, not wanting to burden him with her concerns when he was ill. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You sound terrible.’

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘And no problems with, you know, what we were talking about…’ She didn’t want to mention the robbery. Ava doubted if the police had a tap on his landline phone, but you could never be sure. If they suspected her of murder, they could probably do anything they liked. And what about her own phone? She knew that it was possible to place a tap inside it, but were there other ways of listening in?

‘No, love. No problems at all.’

‘Good,’ she said, relieved that she had one less thing to worry about. At least for the moment. ‘Why don’t I call by after I’ve finished work? I can bring some food over, save you cooking for yourself.’

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Chris came hurrying back through the rain just as she was hanging up. ‘Any joy?’ she asked as he got into the car, but one look at his face told her everything she needed to know. ‘Bad news, I take it.’

‘It’s that all right. I found a security guy who said work stopped a week ago. And he doesn’t reckon it’s going to start again anytime soon. Place is up for sale again.’

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Well, I hope you haven’t sent your Russian friend the falcon yet. Maybe Carlisle will give you a refund.’

‘I’ll shove that fuckin’ falcon up Borovski’s arse! Jesus, I bet this is down to Wilder.’

‘You can’t be sure of that.’

‘No, but I can take a bloody good guess.’

Fearing that he might be about to do something rash, she said, ‘Just promise me that you’re not going to go over there and start waving that gun about.’

‘I couldn’t if I wanted to.’

‘Huh?’

Chris, as if he’d said more than he intended to, quickly looked away from her.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

Slowly, he turned his face to meet her gaze again. He hesitated, but then decided to come clean. ‘It’s missing. I don’t know where it is.’

‘What? How can it be missing?’

He gave a shrug. ‘It was in the pocket of my other overcoat. I meant to take it out, put it somewhere safe, but then I forgot all about it. And then this morning… I was going to lock it in the safe, but…’

‘Jesus, how long has it been missing for?’

‘How the hell would I know? One day, three days? I haven’t seen it since Friday. Danny says he hasn’t taken it. The old man says the same. Course either of them could be lying. And Dad can’t remember what he was doing yesterday, never mind a few days ago.’

‘So who else has been to the house?’

‘Only Silver. Oh, and the cleaning woman, Mrs Phillips, but somehow I can’t see her as an avid arms collector.’

Ava thought about the gun that had been used to kill Squires. Could it have been the same one? Perhaps Silver had taken it, but she’d hardly try and shoot her own boyfriend. Unless Danny had persuaded her to kill Squires, his perfect alibi being that he was standing right beside the guy when he was shot. ‘Silver, then. Have you asked her?’

‘She denies it, but she’s mad enough. Come to that, she’s nuts enough to take a shot at Danny. Those two are…’ He pulled a face. ‘They’re both crazy. They’re as mad as each other and off their heads most of the time.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘What can I do? It might turn up again. It might not. I’ll just have to wait and see.’

Ava gazed up towards the dark, cloud-filled sky. This wasn’t good news, not good at all. Could it really be a coincidence that the gun had disappeared at the same time as the fatal shooting of Squires? Somehow she doubted it.