‘That still doesn’t answer my question. How do you know that O’Reilly is involved in the murder, or was this anonymous caller also a psychic? We’ve had him in our sights from day one, but he has an alibi we haven’t been able to break.’ He was about to continue when Collingwood’s mobile rang. Morrison paused, grinding his teeth, forced to listen to the one-sided call.
Collingwood spoke briefly to the caller and congratulated them before ending the call. ‘That was DC Harrow, he’s at O’Reilly’s flat. He wasn’t there, but they found a carrier bag stuffed full of bloodstained clothing in a dog kennel. Ester Langton identified the body, Sir. I also have an all-ports alert out for O’Reilly, so hopefully, we’ll nab him soon.’
Morrison knew he had to step up fast and take over. He was about to suggest their priority was to issue a press release Collingwood continued.
‘Another thing, Sir. We may need to involve the fraud squad.’
‘What are you bloody talking about now?’
‘Well, it’s on the cards that Detmar Steinburg was involved in the sale of fake paintings.’
Morrison cracked his knuckles then leaned forward so Collingwood was forced to back away. ‘As from this moment, I am taking over, and it will be my decision to bring in the fraud squad if necessary. Right now, we have to clear up last night’s debacle before it gets splattered over the front pages. I want the gallery’s CCTV footage, and I will put out a press release when requesting anyone present who has information or mobile footage to contact us immediately.’ He shook his head. ‘The media are going to be on this like a pack of dogs. If we don’t tie things up quickly, we’re going to be bloody crucified.’
Jack was on the sofa, having drunk too much brandy the night before. He was still in his evening suit and had a terrible hangover. Maggie brought him a mug of coffee. She had her hair in rollers and was wearing her dressing gown. He struggled to sit up.
‘So how did James Bond do last night?’
‘He did good, Mags, but your tip-off was brilliant... if you hadn’t brought it up... Christ I’ve got one hell of a headache, didn’t want to wake you when I got back.’
‘So, were you right?’
‘Yeah, the victim was Detmar Steinburg and... I really need something for my headache.’
‘Tell me all about it later. Come up to the bedroom and I’ll get you some painkillers, because you need to get ready for church.’
‘Church? What are you talking about?
‘We have to go to the morning service. It’s to do with Charlie’s christening.’
Jack was aghast. ‘You mean we all have to go?’ He carefully stood up and followed her up the stairs and into the bedroom.
She explained as they went. ‘You and I, and Penny, Hannah and Charlie are all going. The vicar has agreed to meet us after the service so we can discuss the christening. I mean, he was very pleasant, but we are obviously not regular churchgoers, so we are going to have to put in a few appearances before the christening.’
Maggie went into the bathroom and came out with a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol. Jack was now sitting on the bed, his bow tie hanging loose and his shirt unbuttoned. He decided not to elaborate on what had taken place at the gallery. Instead, he watched Maggie looking through her wardrobe.
She turned to him with a straw hat perched on her head. ‘What about a hat? I want to make a good impression.’
‘That looks like you’re going to the beach. Haven’t you got anything a bit more churchy? He went into the bathroom to get more water. ‘What do you think I should wear?’
‘Not jeans or that old leather jacket,’ Maggie said firmly. ‘I’d suggest the tweed jacket, your grey trousers and a white shirt, but you will have to get a move on. We need to leave at ten forty-five.’
It was fortunate that she had walked out of the bedroom then, so didn’t hear him throwing up in the sink.
Half an hour later he had managed to straighten himself out. He had taken some Andrews Liver Salts, another three paracetamols, showered, shaved and put on one of his best suits. Although his head was still throbbing, he no longer felt nauseous; in fact, seeing the whole family gathered in the hall, he almost started to feel good.
Maggie was looking as stunning as ever, Penny was in her favourite felt hat with a turned-up brim. Hannah was in a smart new coat and her best patent leather shoes. Even Charlie was looking spiffy dressed in a new padded coat with a hood. Jack insisted on taking a snap of them grouped in the hallway on his mobile. ‘My family,’ he said with pride before Maggie had to check that he hadn’t cropped their heads off. Jack then stood by Maggie’s side and they all bunched up for a selfie.
At the church, they waited in the vestry after the morning service. The vicar was young and fresh-faced with thinning blond hair. He took them into a private room to discuss possible dates and what would happen at the christening. Maggie was not keen to have a group christening with other families. She wanted Charlie’s day to be very special, with just their chosen godparents present and a few family friends. Through it all, Charlie behaved like a little angel, quietly sleeping; Hannah was not quite so well behaved, however, and was asked to sit still and be quiet a few times when she said she wanted to hold Charlie. Jack whispered to her that they would all go to McDonalds’ afterwards if she behaved, which did the trick.
Forty-five minutes later, as they sat munching their burgers and fries, Maggie proposed that since they would all be going to Church more often before the christening, they could make this a routine. Hannah clapped her hands. ‘Mother of God, that would be so good!’
Maggie warned Jack not to laugh. ‘You can say grace next time we come,’ he said, managing to keep a straight face.
‘Who’s Grace?’ Hannah asked. ‘Does she live in the church with that vicar man?’
Charlie had been well behaved, sucking on a chip, but now he became very restless and started crying, so Jack scooped him up in his arms and they all got ready to leave. As Jack carried his son back to the car, it began to feel like the calm before the storm.
Chapter 28
Jack was in his office surfing the internet for news coverage of the gallery incident when Maggie started shouting for him to come downstairs.
‘It’s the news,’ she declared. ‘It just started a second ago.’
‘Christ, I thought something was wrong.’ He moved to her side in front of their latest purchase, a wall-mounted TV. On screen, a senior Scotland Yard officer was standing with DCI Mark Morrison at a press conference. Jack just caught the last few moments as they announced that they had identified the framer’s shop victim as the art dealer Detmar Steinburg. A suspect had been charged and was due before the magistrates’ court, where he would be remanded in custody pending trial. DCI Morrison then said that anyone who had been at Steinburg’s Bond Street gallery the previous evening should contact Fulham police station if they had any mobile phone footage that might assist in their enquiry.
The programme then continued with news of further rail strikes before Maggie turned the sound down. ‘You haven’t told me what happened there last night. Who’s their suspect?’
‘He was Steinburg’s partner, Kurt Neilson, a real nutcase who’d taken over the gallery for a private showing of his own paintings. I have to say, if you saw it, you’d understand why it had never been exhibited before. It was all truly awful. But the last one was really sick... he’d painted his lover on the cross.’
‘What?’
‘You’ve never seen anything like it. It caused pandemonium, and things got worse when he pulled a gun. I think he was about to shoot himself rather than anyone else. Anyway, he was arrested and carted out.’