False Money (9 page)

‘Your father said the body had been there some time and that there were some suspicious circumstances.'

His eyes flew open. ‘So it wasn't her who texted me.' His eyes flickered around the room. ‘It was from her mobile phone. I recognized the number. I thought . . . hoping against hope.'

Bea cleared her plate. Pushed the orange juice towards him. ‘Extremes of hope and despair can kill you. Let's not jump to conclusions, right?'

He downed the orange juice. Winston leaped on to his lap, and Chris held him close, huffing into his fur.

Maggie broke eggs into a saucepan. Bea pushed the plunger down into the cafetière.

Chris said, ‘Whoever texted me wanted me to rush out to see if Tomi were still alive. It was a trap, wasn't it? I was supposed to be found there by the police, who would jump to the conclusion that I was responsible for . . . Do they think she was murdered? Is that what you meant by saying there were suspicious circumstances?'

‘We don't know anything for certain as yet. Luckily you have the text message as evidence that someone used her phone last night. Do you think you could eat something now?' Bea put four pieces of bread in the toaster.

‘Not after . . .' He shook his head at the packet of muesli, but accepted a mug of strong black coffee instead. He grimaced, trying to smile. ‘What you must have thought when I landed on your doorstep! Oliver's right, and you're the one person we need when the world turns topsy-turvy.' He pulled out his mobile. ‘I'll have to tell the police about the text message, won't I? I wish I could remember who Tomi went off with, the last time I saw her. I must have been one of the last people to talk to her.'

A plateful of crispy bacon and glistening scrambled eggs arrived in front of Bea, and she tackled it with relish. ‘Let's try to reconstruct what happened. Close your eyes, and think back. It was a Saturday. Noontime? You'd been to the pub with Tomi, and then you went across to the library to get out some books. You got out more than you could carry, so she offered to carry some for you. Two, three?'

‘Two, but they were big ones. Coffee table type books.'

‘Someone came up to talk to you. Or was it someone in a car?'

He was impatient. ‘Not in a car. He was walking up from the High Street, had been doing some shopping for the weekend. He lives in a flat just up the road from there.'

‘Let's recreate the scene for you. How was he dressed?'

‘Dressed? How should I remember? He's called—'

‘Of course you can remember how he was dressed. Sit down. Do you want sugar in your coffee? Or perhaps some more orange juice?'

‘What? What does it matter how he – I suppose, yes, brown jacket, grey denims, boots. A scarf. It was a really cold day. We were all huddling up against the wind. He was in a hurry because of it. He'd just come from getting in some food at Marks & Spencers, said there was a party on that night just off the Brompton Road, and was I going, and I said yes, probably, and though the wind was bitter, the sun was bright, and he was wearing these shades, wrap-around, heavy side pieces. I thought they didn't really suit him, but I wouldn't mind a pair. I'd forgotten that.'

‘His name?'

‘Brian. A bit of a bore about . . .' He clicked his fingers. ‘Horse racing. His father owns one leg of a horse. Brian's always on about it. I turned away from the sun – yes, that's right, the sun was in my eyes – and I turned away from Tomi, and she said she'd seen someone across the road and would talk to me later. That's the last I saw of her.'

‘You didn't see her cross the road?'

He shook his head. ‘No, not really. No.'

‘Tomi knew Brian, too?'

A shrug. ‘I can't be sure, but I don't think so. On the other hand, we meet all sorts at parties. It's like we're all in different circles, and some of them intersect.'

‘Yes, I can see that. You may need to find out where Brian lives, to confirm your story. How do you know him?'

‘Someone at the Health Club introduced us. He said his father's horse was running that weekend. We'd nothing much else on so we went to watch and the horse won and there was a party afterwards. The way it is. You know?'

Bea thought of the party at Miss Drobny's house. ‘Are these parties open to everyone?'

‘Not really. People bring their friends, sometimes. If it gets on Facebook then it can get out of hand. When it's at our place Dad goes away for the weekend, but since the last one I've promised him I'll keep the numbers down and pay for the cleaner to come in afterwards.'

‘How did you meet Tomi?'

He was vague. ‘At a party somewhere, about a year ago, I suppose. She wasn't with Harry then, was she? Maggie, you were there, weren't you, with Oliver? Something vaguely theatrical. Can you remember?'

Maggie tried to help. ‘It was at Von and Simone's, wasn't it? There was this leggy blonde you were going out with at the time, who invited you. Oliver and I came along because we were all going on to some crazy comedy show in a pub afterwards. The blonde didn't want to come, so you shed her and invited Tomi instead.'

‘I remember.' Chris pulled his coffee towards him and drank it black. Quiet descended on the room. Winston the cat jumped from Chris's lap to Bea's, to be fed the last scrap of bacon.

Chris said, ‘What do we do now?'

‘We try your father's phone again, and if he's still not in, we contact the police.'

SIX

B
efore Bea could ring CJ, he rang her

‘News,' he said. ‘Not good.'

‘We suspected the worst. We have Chris here. He got a text from Tomi's phone this morning.'

‘What! I'll be right round.'

‘Was that—?' said Chris.

‘Yes. Why don't you wash and brush up before he gets here?'

Chris blundered out while Bea helped Maggie put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Maggie found her big handbag and started to apply make-up. Bea stood at the window overlooking the garden. A few fluffy clots of snow drifted out of the sky, but didn't settle. The sun tried to break through heavy clouds, and the temperature rose. If it got much higher, the snow would vanish.

The bells would be ringing for the church service any minute now, but Bea wasn't going to get there this morning, was she?

Maggie came to stand beside Bea. They put their arms around one another. Maggie sighed. Bea wondered whether at some point in the future it would be Maggie supporting her, and not the other way around.

Maggie said, ‘I keep thinking of Tomi lying out there all by herself. Was she . . . you know?'

‘Raped? I don't know.'

‘Horrible, to happen like that. All alone. Screaming, probably.' She shuddered.

‘I wish Oliver were back.'

‘Wednesday.'

The doorbell rang, announcing CJ's arrival. Chris thundered down the stairs, and Bea ushered them all into the sitting room. ‘Coffee?' Being bright. No one accepted.

CJ glared at his son. ‘Where were you last night?'

Chris's shoulders rose defensively. ‘A party. The usual. I stayed overnight. Yes, I drank too much, I've got a hangover, and before you can say it, yes, it serves me right.'

‘Bea said you'd had a text?'

Chris handed his phone over, and CJ nodded. ‘Not from her, of course. She's been dead for ten to fourteen days – probably died the day you last saw her.'

‘Not raped?' Maggie feared the worst.

‘No. That would have been understandable, I suppose. The police will want to see you, Chris. I'll go with you. Her death's official now, but we'll have to wait for an autopsy. It's not clear how she died.'

Chris straightened his shoulders. ‘I understand. Shall we go now?'

CJ didn't take his eyes off his son. ‘Who in your lot introduced Tomi to drugs?'

Chris was startled. ‘Drugs? Well, I suppose, yes, one or two took this and that, party style, you know. Are you saying that . . . ? But Tomi never—'

‘You've admitted you all experimented.'

‘No! I didn't because it would take the edge off things and—'

‘Doesn't getting drunk do that, too?'

‘Yes, but . . . I don't usually, you know that. As for Tomi, she thought people who took drugs were stupid. There was a row at a party once when someone was handing out pills. She came over to me, asked me to see her home, said she'd slapped a man's face when he'd offered her—'

‘Who was it?'

A shrug. ‘I didn't see. I was in the other room when she stormed in, woman on the war path. I didn't take it seriously. After all, lots of people—'

‘Who? Names!'

‘I can't. None of my friends, except maybe a couple of times to prolong the party spirit, you know. Are you saying that Tomi died from taking drugs? I don't believe it.'

‘The police will need names.'

‘It's that serious? But –' he gestured wildly – ‘this is ridiculous. Tomi did not do drugs.'

‘Just one dose would be enough for someone who hadn't done it before.'

Chris collapsed on to the nearest chair. ‘I've heard that the first time can be fatal. But no, not Tomi.'

‘They all say that,' observed CJ, stone-faced.

Maggie was hugging herself. ‘I second what Chris says. Tomi didn't do drugs. If anything, she was more judgemental than I was about it, talking about slippery slopes and beginning small and ending up dead. She wouldn't do drugs.'

Bea filled in the dots. ‘Was it, perhaps, done to her?'

CJ looked hard at Bea. ‘What makes you think that?'

‘Everything that everyone has said about her. Searching through her belongings, piecing her lifestyle together. There was nothing in her medicine kit. No syringes, no unidentified twists of powder. Nothing. So how did she die?'

He twisted his lips. ‘There'll have to be an autopsy. There was a syringe sticking out of her thigh.'

There was an indrawn breath from Maggie and Chris. Chris shook his head, over and over. ‘No, she wouldn't. She didn't. This is just not right!'

Bea said, ‘If she died a fortnight ago, then who sent the texts from her phone? And where is her phone?'

Silence.

Bea went on, ‘What was she wearing? Were Chris's library books with her?'

CJ shook his head. ‘Pass.'

Maggie put her hand to her head. ‘Why would anyone want to kill Tomi?'

Chris shot out of his chair. ‘Harry! He's the only one who had a motive. He needed to get rid of her, so that he could make up to Hermia.'

‘You've tried that line already,' said Bea. ‘Hermia gave him a sort of alibi.'

‘Yes, well; he laid it on thick, didn't he? To impress her? He could have killed her before the party and dumped her, then cried into his beer to attract Hermia's attention. Why not?'

‘It feels wrong, that's why not,' said Bea. ‘What happened between you and Hermia yesterday?'

‘Hermia had other fish to fry last night, some important charity dinner or other.' He grabbed Bea's handbag, extracted the keys ‘Let's get going. I'll need a witness, so you'd better come, too.'

CJ was, uncharacteristically, dithering. He wanted to get his son to the police, of course, but Chris had forgotten all about that. Bea reached for her big coat. ‘Give me back my keys, Chris. You know perfectly well you're not allowed to drive my car. Come on, CJ, let's see what all the fuss is about. Maggie, do you want to come, too?'

Maggie shook her head. ‘I don't think he would have needed to kill Tomi to shake her off. Whatever he may have thought, she wasn't that keen on him. Look, I've a cracking headache. I'll see you later. Give me a ring when you find out what's happened.'