‘How did you get on with Lena Fulford?’ he asked quietly.
‘Well I honestly felt that old Marcus had got lucky – not only was she a beauty but a very keen businesswoman. I mean, he’s hopeless, one job after another. I know he had a sort of goodish job when they married, designer for a wealthy boat yard, or let’s say the customers were wealthy. He would design very elegant interiors, but then I think he sort of had his work cut out as Lovely Lena was quite a handful. I know she never liked me, in many ways she was jealous of our friendship, but it turned out to be more of a mental thing.’ He twisted a finger at his temple.
‘You met them in Antigua?’ Reid asked.
‘Good God, yes I did, two or more years ago, I think. I was on the yacht and visiting friends who were staying at the wonderful Carlisle Hotel. They don’t have water-skiing facilities, and my chaps and I were told not to use their bay, so we were going to move further along the coast and ski there. The yacht had a speedboat on board with jet skis, plus staff, chef and crew.’
‘Did you know the Fulfords were staying at the hotel?’
‘I think I had it lodged somewhere in the brain cells, but it was sort of a coincidence really.’
‘You met Amy there?’
‘Yes I did; we all had lunch and Lena was a bit tetchy as usual. Thing is, you never know with her – sometimes she’s all warmth and smiles, next minute she’s quite nasty, and she refused to allow Amy to come on board the speedboat when I offered to take her water-skiing.’
‘How did Amy react?’
‘Just accepted it, no argument. I think she knew not to start one up with Lena – she’s a very intelligent girl, quiet, sort of watchful, as if she’s an arbitrator between them; anyway, I rejoined my pals and left. I think that is possibly the last time I saw Amy.’
‘She’s never been in touch with you?’
‘Heavens no, and when Marcus mentioned he needed a place it coincided with me getting the photo gig abroad, so I let him rent my old pad.’
‘You were never there when Amy spent the weekend with her father?’
‘Not that I recall; I’ve been skipping all over the place and the rent and stuff is handled by my lawyers. I think he’s a bit behind actually, but it doesn’t really worry me. I have this place for when I’m back in the country.’
Reid spoke quietly as he explained that he was concerned about the amount of pornography discovered in the Green Street flat. Boatly shrugged.
‘Well it could be my old magazines and videos? As I said, I was a bit of a lad. My parents died in a plane crash when I was fifteen and my aunt was my guardian. She was my father’s sister and not like some old doddery spinster but at one time had been a great beauty, married a couple of times, and was rather naughty, very theatrical. I doubt she had ever cooked a meal in her life, but she could drink, she had hollow legs as the expression goes. The reality was the flat originally belonged to my grandmother, who left it to Aunt Katherine with the stipulation that it passed to me eventually. Poor Katherine ploughed through her own inheritance and I think she even gambled away any money left by her husbands. I would say that she was not the most reliable person to act as a guardian – in fact some of her conquests were not that much older than myself; she’d never use the expression “toy boys”, but she had quite a sexual appetite for virile young men. I was still at boarding school so only came under her unwatchful eyes during the holidays.’
Reid was becoming impatient, and not quite sure why Boatly had gone into such detail regarding his aunt. He was about to ask more questions about the pornography when Boatly swung his legs down from the sofa and laughed.
‘I admit I was going through all the teenage sexual fantasies, but what happened was not intentional,’ he said and laughed again before continuing. ‘I was hammering in a nail to hang up a framed picture of some bimbo or other and it went straight through the plaster wall. It’s not obviously something I like to admit but it became my peephole into Aunt Katherine’s bedroom. I’d wank myself stupid watching her with legs akimbo being screwed by some waiter or other young man she’d picked up. Sadly her prowess with them didn’t last as she became such an alcoholic that the trustees felt her to be unsuitable as my guardian. They wanted to get some other distant relative to monitor me, but I’d just turned eighteen and had access to my inheritance, so I refused to accept anyone else and she was carted off to some hospice where she eventually died.’
‘Did Marcus Fulford stay with you at your flat in Green Street on a regular basis?’
‘Yes, very often, but that was before he married Lena. The place was only used infrequently as I went to Oxford and then would live here during my vacations.’
‘Did Amy stay here?’
Boatly frowned, and said she had on a couple of occasions as she used to ride at the local stables.
‘Who was the girl riding the horse when I arrived?’
‘Oh, she’s my neighbour’s daughter; they use one of the outbuildings to stable her horse, and she’s quite a little madam. They also look after Wally – well, he’s more their pet than mine, but when I’m here he stays with me.’
There was a pause as Reid made a couple of notes before closing his notebook. Boatly, thinking the interview was over, stood up, but Reid asked if he could recall the dates when Amy stayed.
‘Christ, I don’t know off-hand, but it would have been a good few years ago. Perhaps Marcus could give you a better time frame. She was always very quiet and well behaved and a very accomplished rider – and I think did some equestrian shows.’
Reid detected that Boatly was becoming irritated; his right foot tapped the floor and he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.
‘Look, Detective Reid, I am obviously intelligent enough to know where your questions are leading. My neighbours’ daughter is eleven, and very annoying, I have no interaction with her. Amy was my best friend’s daughter, and I have not and never had any interest in pubescent females. As you know, I was abroad when Amy went missing, and I have been open and honest about my relationship with her and her mother, but Marcus was my only reason for knowing them. We have been friends for many years, dating back to our Oxford days, though Marcus was at the polytechnic. He was from a middle-class family without much money, and I had my inheritance, but it never created any friction between us. He eventually married Lena, but I still care for him and enjoy meeting up with him occasionally, on a one-to-one basis. I don’t like his wife and she has made it obvious that she does not like me and I think she was always envious of our friendship. I thought his daughter was lovely, but the undercurrent of your implications that there could have been anything more between us is abhorrent and distressing to me. I feel great compassion for what Marcus and Lena must be going through and hope their daughter will be found; at the same time I am aware of how long she’s been missing and I realize the outcome may be tragic. As a friend I will endeavour to be supportive because I know how much Marcus loves Amy and what a good father he is.’
Driving back to London, Reid mulled over the interview. Although he had no evidence to suggest the handsome and suntanned Simon Boatly was involved in Amy’s disappearance, he could not allay his suspicions. He wondered if the nail-causing-the-peephole story was a lie fabricated in collusion with Marcus to cover up something more sinister. However, the look of gratification on Boatly’s face as he spoke about it suggested there was some substance behind the admission. Although he knew Boatly was not even in the country when Amy disappeared, he could have been involved in some previous sexual abuse of Amy, maybe even with Marcus present.