There was a long silence. I was steeling myself to ring again when I saw a figure looming through the frosted glass. Then Donovan opened the door. But it was Donovan as I’d never seen him before, swathed in a plum silk kimono that reached just below his knees. A fine sheen of sweat covered his face and he looked extremely embarrassed. “Bah, humbug,” I muttered. He seemed baffled, but what else could I expect from an engineering student?
“Hiya, Kate,” he said.
I pointed to his outfit. “I hope this isn’t what it looks like,” I said drily.
He rolled his eyes heavenwards. “You’re as bad as my mother. Give me some credit. Come on in, let me get this door shut. We’re through the back,” he added, leading the way down the hall. “You think the outside is over the top, wait till you see this.”
I waded after him through shag pile deep enough to conceal a few troops of Boy Scouts. I tried not to look too closely at the impressionistic flower paintings on the walls. At the end of the hall was a solid wooden door. Donovan opened it, then stood back to let me pass.
I walked from winter to tropical summer. Hot, green and steamy as a Hollywood rainforest, the triple-glazed extension must have occupied the same square footage as the house. Ferns and palms pushed against the glass and spilled over in cascades that overhung brick paths. Growing lamps blazed light and warmth everywhere. The air smelt of a curious mixture of humus and chlorine. Sweat popping out on my face like a rash, I followed the path through the dense undergrowth, rounded a curve and found myself facing a vast swimming pool, its shape the free form of a real pond.
“Hiya, chuck,” Gloria screeched, raucous as an Amazonian parrot.
She was stretched out on a cushion on a wooden sunbed, wearing nothing but a swimsuit. Beside her, a younger version reclined on one elbow like a Roman diner, a champagne glass beaded with condensation hanging loosely from her fingers. Gloria beckoned
We nodded to each other and I told a few lies about the house and swimming pool. Sandra looked pleased and Gloria proud, which was the point of the exercise. Donovan reappeared carrying a fourth lounger which he placed a little away from our grouping. Self-consciously, he peeled off the robe, revealing baggy blue trunks, and perched on the edge of the seat, his body gleaming like a Rodin bronze. “No problems today?”
Gloria stretched voluptuously. For a woman who was fast approaching the downhill side of sixty, she was in terrific shape. It was amazing, given what I’d seen of her lifestyle. “Not a one, chuck. Nowt but pleasure all the way. We went to Oldham police station and I spoke to a lovely young inspector who couldn’t see what all the fuss last night had been about. Any road, young Don’s in the clear now, so we don’t have to worry about that. And then we went shopping for Christmas presents for Joanna. We had to get a robe and some trunks for Don and all, because our Keith’s a tiddler next to him. We’ve not seen a journalist all day, and there’s nobody more pleased than me about that. What about you? Any news?”
“I wanted to ask you about something,” I said, side-stepping the question. “You remember when I came to fetch you from Dorothea’s van the night she was killed? Well, I was busy wrestling with the umbrella and keeping an eye out in case anybody jumped us, so I wasn’t really paying attention to individuals. Besides, I don’t really know anybody at NPTV, so even if I had noticed who was around, it wouldn’t mean anything to me. But you …”
“You want me to think about who I saw in the car park?”
“It might be important.”
Gloria leaned back, closing her eyes and massaging her temples. “Let’s see …” she said slowly. “There were two women getting into a car a couple of bays down from Dorothea’s. I don’t know their
I reached for my sweater. “More than you can imagine, Gloria. Much more than you can imagine.”
“So what’s going on?” she demanded. “Do you know who killed Dorothea?”
“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “I don’t want to say too much yet. I’ve got stuff to check out. But if you get Donovan to bring you to the office first thing tomorrow morning, I think I might be able to give you your money’s worth.”
Donovan gave me a look of resignation. “You want me to stick with Gloria?”
“Oh, I think so,” I said. “You make such a lovely pair.”
Chapter 21
SATURN IN PISCES IN THE 11TH HOUSE
She is comfortable with her own company and works best alone. Her friends are valued as much for their experience as for their personal qualities. She has a single-minded concentration on objectives, but has a flexible and sympathetic mind. She is intuitive and imaginative. She can be moody.
From Written in the Stars, by Dorothea Dawson
When Freddie Littlewood got home from work, I was waiting for him. Stacey of the big eyes and trusting soul had made it back fifteen minutes ahead of him and she’d let me in without a moment’s hesitation. She’d shown me into the dining room again, presumably because that was where Freddie and I had spoken before. She’d been back inside five minutes with a tray containing teapot, milk, sugar and a china mug with kittens on it.
“It can’t have been easy for Freddie, the last few days,” I said sympathetically.
She gave me an odd look. “No more than usual,” she said. “Why would it be difficult?”
Until that moment, the idea that Freddie might not have mentioned his mother’s murder to Stacey hadn’t occurred to me. People have called me cold in my time, but I don’t think I could plan to spend the rest of my life with someone I trusted so little. “I meant, with the police everywhere,” I improvised hastily, remembering I was supposed to work for NPTV too. “It’s been really disruptive. They walk around as if they own the place, asking all sorts of questions. And it’s not even as if Dorothea Dawson worked for NPTV.”
Seemingly satisfied, Stacey drifted off, saying she was going to get changed and get the dinner on, if I didn’t mind. I also couldn’t
Freddie stepped into the doorway, looking gray-faced and exhausted. “What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait for work tomorrow?” he asked brusquely. More for Stacey’s benefit than mine, I suspected.
“I needed the answer to a question,” I said. “I won’t be at NPTV first thing in the morning, so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I caught up with you at home.”
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “Have you never heard of the telephone?” he said, exasperation in his voice.
“It’s much harder to tell when people are lying,” I said mildly. “Sorting out the truth is difficult enough as it is.”
Freddie folded his arms over his chest and glared. “Since you’re here, I’ll answer your question. But in future, if you want to talk to me, see me at work or call me on the phone. I don’t want Stacey upset by this, OK?”
“That’s very chivalrous of you,” I said. “There’s not many men who are so concerned for their future wives’ wellbeing that they don’t even tell them their prospective mother-in-law’s just been murdered.”
“What goes on between Stacey and me is none of your business. You said you had a question?”
“You told me that it wasn’t you who leaked the advance storylines to the press, and I believe you,” I said. “But somebody did. I was wondering if Dorothea had ever indicated to you that she knew who the mole was?”