‘Depends on how old the people involved are,’ Annie said.
‘And how willing,’ Gerry added.
‘Are you saying the girls were underage?’
‘Some of them look that way,’ said Gerry. ‘Didn’t you notice? Didn’t you think so at the time?’
‘Like I said, I wasn’t there often. And when I was, I hardly paid them any attention. They were just decoration. I had other things to think about.’
‘Of course,’ said Annie. ‘Like making sure everyone’s glass was full.’
Charlotte stood up. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I think you should go now.’
‘I must say,’ Annie went on, ‘this seems rather naive of you, assuming they were wives and girlfriends. You don’t strike me as a particularly naive woman. Didn’t you feel uncomfortable, being involved with all those orgies? It wasn’t what you signed up for, was it?’
‘I told you, I wasn’t around for any orgies. Maybe I was burying my head in the sand, not wanting to know why the women were there, or where they came from. But things changed, slowly, subtly. I was starting to feel uncomfortable with Connor’s new friends and ways. When I first started three years ago, things were far more civilised, before Gashi and Tadić appeared on the scene. In fact, I left at the end of April, before... before Connor died. I had the opportunity to return to my old line of work in partnership with a friend.’
‘Mrs. Westlake,’ said Annie, ‘Connor Blaydon was murdered. He didn’t just die. Someone helped him on his way. Let’s call a spade a spade.’
‘Gashi.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘He seems like the sort of man who would do... that.’
‘Kill someone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you ever hear him talk about killing people?’
‘Good Lord, no. He wouldn’t talk like that in front of me. But I’ll bet you he was involved. Either him or one of his little gofers.’
‘Can you help us prove it?’
‘No. I told you, I was involved in getting back into events planning. I didn’t like the company Connor was keeping, the way things were going. There seemed no more... moral centre, for want of a better term. Things were spiralling into chaos.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Annie. ‘Please sit down again. We’ve got a few more questions.’
Charlotte sat down slowly but remained on the edge of her seat, as if she were going to get up and leave the room at any moment.
Gerry consulted her notebook. ‘There was a party at Mr. Blaydon’s house on 13 April, this year,’ she said. ‘Were you present?’
‘It’s highly unlikely. As I said, I rarely attended. Let me consult my diary.’
‘Would you do that, please? And while you’re at it, perhaps you could also let us know where you were on 22 May.’
Charlotte left the room for a couple of minutes and returned with a large desk diary. ‘No,’ she said, holding it open for them to see. ‘I thought so. I was out of the country the week of 13 April.’
‘Where were you?’
‘Costa Rica.’
‘Costa Rica,’ said Annie. ‘Very nice. Why were you there?’
‘Connor sent me. I was organising an international business conference.’
‘Was that normal?’
‘Perfectly. I told you my job involved a certain amount of travel. Connor was a partner in a new hotel complex development there, and he wanted to bring the investors together with the ideas men and the architects. They all needed to be wined and dined.’
‘Naturally,’ said Annie. ‘Would you have any idea at all who might have been at that party?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Who might know?’
‘Someone who was there, I imagine. Maybe Gashi?’
‘He was there?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Ever heard of someone called Phil Keane? Might have been a friend of Blaydon and Tadić.’
‘It doesn’t ring any bells.’
‘Hugh Foley?’ Annie said, remembering what Banks had told her about Keane’s relationship with the murdered Faye Butler.
‘No. Sorry.’
‘And the 22 May?’
‘Nothing specific,’ said Charlotte. ‘Though I think we had a book award dinner to organise in Bradford. I remember it was towards the end of last month.’
‘Would anyone be able to corroborate that?’
Charlotte gave her a puzzled glance. ‘Corroborate? Why?’
‘Would anyone?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. I’d have been back and forth, setting things up. Someone might have seen me.’
Annie took the enhanced photo of the girl from the SD out of her briefcase and passed it to Charlotte. ‘Do you recognise her?’
Charlotte examined the photo through narrowed eyes and passed it back. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. Though I’m not sure I’d recognise my best friend from that. She looks rather the worse for wear.’
‘We think the girl was drunk and possibly drugged,’ Annie said. ‘And though the images are hard to distinguish, the video clearly shows that she was raped.’
‘Raped!’ Charlotte repeated. ‘I don’t know what to say. What video is this?’
‘It appears that Blaydon’s right-hand man Neville Roberts left a small collection of X-rated movies behind.’
‘From the parties?’
‘Mini spy-cams in the bedrooms.’
‘My God. I had no idea that Connor filmed his guests without their permission.’
‘Not Blaydon,’ Annie said. ‘Neville Roberts. Do you know anything about him?’
‘Not much. He was a bit of a dark horse, clearly. I hardly ever talked to him. He was around often, yes, but he was a rather taciturn person, quite surly, and our worlds rarely crossed. He was more of a manservant, really, a sort of butler. Connor liked the luxury. But Roberts had nothing to do with Connor’s business dealings.’ She tapped the photograph. ‘I have to say I’ve never seen anyone in that state at Connor’s house. Not while I’ve been there.’
‘But you’re so rarely there,’ Gerry reminded her.
‘Yes. Even so. I always thought that whatever went on, they still remained fairly wholesome and civilised.’
‘A sort of Playboy Mansion thing?’
‘If you like. Not that I’ve ever been to a Playboy mansion.’
‘You’re doing it again. Pardon me, but isn’t that a little naive? Especially as you mentioned things spiralling into chaos.’
‘Perhaps. As I said, I was fast becoming disillusioned. Even so, I’m honestly shocked by that picture. This is appalling.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ said Annie. ‘As I said, she’d just been raped. We have the whole thing on a MiniSD card.’
‘No,’ Charlotte whispered, hand at her throat. ‘I still don’t believe it. Did Connor do this?’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I don’t know... I... you said it was one of his parties, you’re asking me about it... I don’t know... I just...’
‘Unfortunately,’ Gerry said, ‘this is the closest we can get to a likeness of the victim. As you say, it’s not very good. And there are no usable facial images of the man involved. Was this an ordinary party or a themed one?’
‘Ordinary, I think. At least I don’t remember any mention of a theme.’
‘You’re sure you don’t recognise her?’
‘I’d tell you if I did.’
‘She didn’t work for you behind the scenes or anything?’
‘I honestly can’t tell from that photo.’