threw at me: ‘What did you come here for, anyway? To buy a dozen red roses?’
I groaned. I was losing my grip. ‘To ask if you know someone called Jonathan Lamb.’
‘Yes. Not well though. House designer. Did some work for a chum of ours.’
‘He was in Carlos’s band, I’m told. Does the name Neil Watson mean anything to you?’
‘No – wait a bit. There was some story about a lad in that band who killed himself.’
‘That’s it. What’s Jonathan Lamb like? I’m going to see him on Monday.’
‘Successful, smooth, likeable, clever, introverted, sharp – how much more do you want?’
‘That’s enough. Thanks, Liz.’
Once again I was already at the door when she called out: ‘Jonathan Lamb, Jack. He and this Neil Watson were an item. That’s why I remembered it. Jonathan’s gay.’
So the reason for the annual lunch was established. Was it the reason for murder too?
By the time I reached Frogs Hill I was in control again. Brandon first. Result? DCI Brandon was not available, I was told. It was his weekend off. I told the sergeant that DCI Brandon
was
available this weekend and that the true answer was that he didn’t fancy talking to Jack Colby. Try again. This time Brandon was there, a bad sign in itself, and I prepared myself for the worst.
He sounded remarkably human, however, and didn’t try any of this ‘can’t discuss it’ stuff. Well, not much. ‘Early days,’ he trotted out as usual. ‘But I’m afraid it’s true that Eva Mendez has been arrested.’
‘Enough evidence to charge her with?’
‘Waiting on the CPS.’ Fair enough. The Crown Prosecution Service is there to give guidance over charging. Then Brandon added, ‘Afraid there’s not much chance we won’t go ahead though.’
I thanked him – genuinely. Presumably, I had been and still might be on the suspect list and at the very least I was an interested party, and so Brandon was unlikely to keep me abreast of events from now on. Dave was another matter, however. Brandon could talk to him as a colleague in the Car Crime Unit, and Dave
might
talk to me. He knows by now that I can respect boundaries.
Dave and I get on well – and never had that been as important as now. He might know what was going on, espe-cially as they work out of the same HQ at Charing. Not for the first time Dave was on voicemail. He, too, tries to guard his weekends like most of us, but he rang back quickly.
‘Sorry, Jack. I know this must be a major headache for you. I’ve checked into it and at least Brandon isn’t after you as a co-conspirator. Where were you on Monday night, incidentally? Joke,’ he added hastily.
‘What’s he got on Eva?’ I asked. ‘He can’t seriously be thinking Eva got it into her head to rush out of the hotel to Allington Lock and murder her husband.’
‘Actually yes, Jack. He does. Your wife—’
‘No longer my wife,’ I replied automatically.
‘Don’t quibble,’ Dave said dismissively. ‘Mendez went out in his car that evening just before nine and the car was duly found parked near where he was found. Your former wife lied about not leaving the hotel. They’ve tracked down the taxi that dropped her at the lock itself at about ten fifteen. I gather that was on the other side of the river from the crime scene. Hotel reports they’d had a flaming row during dinner, loud enough to disturb the other customers and be heard by the staff. Another taxi picked her up on the crime-scene side of the river near the Kent Life museum at about eleven p.m. Hotel reports her return there at about eleven thirty. Estimated time of death for Carlos Mendez between nine and eleven p.m. Not too bright, your Eva.’
I thought furiously. There must be a flaw in this. Dave was right. It was a crazy story. For a start if Eva had been dropped at Allington Lock itself she would not have thought about crossing the river unless Carlos had specifically told her where he was due to transact his ‘business’. Then my
I groaned. I was losing my grip. ‘To ask if you know someone called Jonathan Lamb.’
‘Yes. Not well though. House designer. Did some work for a chum of ours.’
‘He was in Carlos’s band, I’m told. Does the name Neil Watson mean anything to you?’
‘No – wait a bit. There was some story about a lad in that band who killed himself.’
‘That’s it. What’s Jonathan Lamb like? I’m going to see him on Monday.’
‘Successful, smooth, likeable, clever, introverted, sharp – how much more do you want?’
‘That’s enough. Thanks, Liz.’
Once again I was already at the door when she called out: ‘Jonathan Lamb, Jack. He and this Neil Watson were an item. That’s why I remembered it. Jonathan’s gay.’
So the reason for the annual lunch was established. Was it the reason for murder too?
By the time I reached Frogs Hill I was in control again. Brandon first. Result? DCI Brandon was not available, I was told. It was his weekend off. I told the sergeant that DCI Brandon
was
available this weekend and that the true answer was that he didn’t fancy talking to Jack Colby. Try again. This time Brandon was there, a bad sign in itself, and I prepared myself for the worst.
He sounded remarkably human, however, and didn’t try any of this ‘can’t discuss it’ stuff. Well, not much. ‘Early days,’ he trotted out as usual. ‘But I’m afraid it’s true that Eva Mendez has been arrested.’
‘Enough evidence to charge her with?’
‘Waiting on the CPS.’ Fair enough. The Crown Prosecution Service is there to give guidance over charging. Then Brandon added, ‘Afraid there’s not much chance we won’t go ahead though.’
I thanked him – genuinely. Presumably, I had been and still might be on the suspect list and at the very least I was an interested party, and so Brandon was unlikely to keep me abreast of events from now on. Dave was another matter, however. Brandon could talk to him as a colleague in the Car Crime Unit, and Dave
might
talk to me. He knows by now that I can respect boundaries.
Dave and I get on well – and never had that been as important as now. He might know what was going on, espe-cially as they work out of the same HQ at Charing. Not for the first time Dave was on voicemail. He, too, tries to guard his weekends like most of us, but he rang back quickly.
‘Sorry, Jack. I know this must be a major headache for you. I’ve checked into it and at least Brandon isn’t after you as a co-conspirator. Where were you on Monday night, incidentally? Joke,’ he added hastily.
‘What’s he got on Eva?’ I asked. ‘He can’t seriously be thinking Eva got it into her head to rush out of the hotel to Allington Lock and murder her husband.’
‘Actually yes, Jack. He does. Your wife—’
‘No longer my wife,’ I replied automatically.
‘Don’t quibble,’ Dave said dismissively. ‘Mendez went out in his car that evening just before nine and the car was duly found parked near where he was found. Your former wife lied about not leaving the hotel. They’ve tracked down the taxi that dropped her at the lock itself at about ten fifteen. I gather that was on the other side of the river from the crime scene. Hotel reports they’d had a flaming row during dinner, loud enough to disturb the other customers and be heard by the staff. Another taxi picked her up on the crime-scene side of the river near the Kent Life museum at about eleven p.m. Hotel reports her return there at about eleven thirty. Estimated time of death for Carlos Mendez between nine and eleven p.m. Not too bright, your Eva.’
I thought furiously. There must be a flaw in this. Dave was right. It was a crazy story. For a start if Eva had been dropped at Allington Lock itself she would not have thought about crossing the river unless Carlos had specifically told her where he was due to transact his ‘business’. Then my
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