Then she stuck the same hand out to Lucy. Firm grip. Direct eye contact. No curtsey.
Interesting...
Allegra pulled her chin up. ‘It’s simple neuro-linguistic programming.’ Sounding less saccharine and more strychnine. ‘Your colleague now feels that he holds a degree of patriarchal power, which means he’ll underestimate me in any business dealings. While you know that we are equals and will afford me due respect, during our interactions.’
Mr Marlins, back at Bellside School, had been right about her personality, anyway.
Lucy pressed the button that set her phone’s voice memo recording. ‘Allegra, we’re here because you bought a coat for a homeless man, four and a bit weeks ago.’
‘Did I?’
Lucy pointed at printout number one: the security camera shot of Allegra handing the bag over.
‘I’m not trying to be arch, Detective Sergeant McVeigh, it’s just that my charitable works all tend to bleed into each other. I’ve lost track of the number of coats I’ve been able to supply for poor, unfortunate, cold souls like that.’
Since when did eleven-year-olds talk like that? As if they were mini-grown-up people with mortgages and stock portfolios and dinner parties, instead of pre-hormonal monsters about to be unleashed upon the world...
‘Do you recognize this man?’ Lucy poked the close-up of Malcolm Louden.
‘I think it’s important to give back to the community, don’t you, Detective Sergeant McVeigh? Those of us born with a certain degree of... let’s call it “privilege”, have a responsibility to help out members of society less fortunate than ourselves.’
‘I notice you’re not answering my question, Allegra.’
A little girl shouldn’t have a smile as cold as that. ‘Am I in trouble for helping a homeless man stay warm and dry?’
‘You’re not in any trouble. We’re trying to piece together this man’s movements and we think you can help.’
‘So is he in trouble?’
‘No, he’s dead.’
The smile got even colder. ‘That sounds like a great deal of trouble to me.’ She picked up Malcolm Louden’s picture, little creases forming between her pale eyebrows. ‘I’m sorry to hear that he died, but I don’t see how I can possibly help you. I bought him a coat, because he looked cold. My allowance is generous enough that I can do good deeds like that on a fairly regular basis. I also volunteer at a soup kitchen once a month, help with fundraising for an outreach programme, and support my local art gallery.’
Lucy matched the arctic smile. ‘This isn’t a competition, Allegra.’
‘Everything is a competition, Detective Sergeant McVeigh. Everything is a test. And I intend to pass with flying colours.’
Argyll raised his eyebrows, rocking on the balls of his feet — setting his academic robes swaying.
OK...
‘Let me give you some unsolicited advice, Allegra. Something that’ll stand you in good stead for the rest of your life.’ Lucy sat forward and gave her a good dose of the evil eye. ‘When you evade a police officer’s questions like that, it doesn’t make us think, “Gosh, isn’t this little girl smart and self-assured!” It makes us think, “This one’s got something to hide. I’d better keep an eye on her. Maybe take a much closer look and see what I can find out.”’
Those creases between Allegra’s eyebrows deepened. ‘I see.’
‘It doesn’t make you clever, it makes you a person of interest.’
The only sound was the Dunk’s wheezing breath.
Then Allegra nodded, and the frown was gone. ‘Thank you for the advice, Detective Sergeant McVeigh.’ The smile defrosted too. ‘I always value the opportunity to learn new things, and grow as an individual.’
Because that didn’t sound at all creepy.
‘Good. Now, tell me about—’ Lucy’s phone buzzzzzzz-dinged at her — incoming text message. The preview appeared on the screen, hiding the recorder.
DI TUDOR:
I was wondering
Maybe it would be a good idea if you spoke to your therapist about what happened this morning with S Black?!?
Oh shut up, you condescending—
Buzzzzzzz-ding.
DI TUDOR:
I’m worried about her upsetting you Lucy
I’m trying to help
We’re all here to support you
If you need to take some time off for your mental health that’s OK!!!
God’s sake, could the bloody man not leave her alone for five minutes?
DISMISS.
Shame there wasn’t a button for SOD OFF.
‘Sorry: work.’ Lucy made sure the app was still recording. ‘Tell me about Malcolm Louden.’ A short pause. ‘Please.’
Allegra swished her academic gown out of the way and perched on the edge of the sofa opposite. ‘I’d seen him outside the train station a number of times, wearing this grubby thin jacket, covered in stains. He looked colder than usual that day, so I bought him a new coat.’
‘Just like that?’
‘I’m planning on going to Oxford to study Philosophy, Politics, and Economics. Then a DPhil in either Politics or International Relations. It’s not like it was in the old days, when you could simply waltz into Oxbridge with a good family name and a crate of Dom Pérignon; now you need top marks in every subject. Except everyone applying to Oxbridge has top marks, or they wouldn’t be applying.’
‘Your old teacher, Mr Marlins, says Oxford and Cambridge don’t care about extra-curricular activities.’
‘If you have two identical candidates, with the same academic scores, who are you going to pick: the one who’s done nothing, or the one who’s done everything?’
Suppose she had a point. ‘OK.’
‘It’s a war, Detective Sergeant McVeigh, and whatever gives you an edge against the enemy is a weapon to be wielded.’ Allegra shrugged. She probably meant it to come across as self-deprecating, but it looked artificial. Forced. As if she’d practised it in front of the mirror. ‘I think a summer job helping underprivileged children in Africa, or South America, for UNICEF or Oxfam will seal the deal.’
‘So, you don’t actually care about the homeless, you’re just using them to climb the ladder.’
‘Does the starving man care why you feed him, or does he only care that he’s got enough food in his belly to live another day?’
Oh yeah, this one was definitely destined for a job in politics.
‘And you thought buying Malcolm Louden a jacket would help get you into Oxford?’
‘Helping him helps me, what’s wrong with that?’ She placed the photo back on the coffee table. ‘I bought him the coat: he was very grateful. He was happy because unlike everyone else who’d marched past that morning, not looking at him, pretending he wasn’t there, I actually stopped and helped.’
Suppose she had a point.
‘Did Malcolm Louden say anything about what he was going to do later? Was he planning to meet someone, or go somewhere?’
‘No. To be honest, I got the impression he was mostly trying not to cry. Some people do that when no one’s been kind to them for a long, long time.’
‘And did you see anyone hanging around when you gave him the coat? Anyone suspicious? Anyone paying a bit too much attention to him?’
‘Hmmm...’ The frown was back. She chewed on her bottom lip for a bit. Then shook her head. ‘No one that comes to mind. But I was a little preoccupied with preparing for my final assessment for St Nicholas College.’ Allegra shared a bright smile with the assistant headmaster. ‘Wanted to do my best.’
Argyll doffed an imaginary cap. ‘Flying colours.’