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Authors: Michael White
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community. Part of the job description really, isn’t it?’ Price gave the policeman a blank look.
Pendragon was about to respond when his mobile rang. He recognised the number. ‘Turner,’ he said.
‘Guv, you have Jackson Price there?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve just interviewed Selina Carthage. She was one of the last to leave the party on Tuesday evening. You know,one of the guests who stayed a while with Berrick, Price and Hedridge?’
‘Yes.’
‘She confirms that Hedridge and Berrick left together. She then went home. She lives in one of those posh places in Moorgate with a doorman downstairs. He confirms she came in around one-forty-five. Anyway, Ms Carthage reckons there was a bit of scene at the private view.’
‘Can you be a little more specific, Sergeant?’
‘There was a gatecrasher. A guy called Francis Arcade, would you believe?’ Turner sniggered. ‘A bit of a lad, apparently. Well known as a trouble maker.’
‘Okay, thanks, Sergeant. Where are you now?’
‘Off to see the last geezer who hung back at the gallery, a bloke called Chester Gerachi. Why is it all these arty types have such weird names?’
Pendragon ignored the question and closed his phone. ‘That was my sergeant,’ he said, turning a hard gaze on Jackson Price. ‘Tells me there was a gatecrasher at the private view. You failed to mention that.’
Price showed little reaction, simply shrugged. ‘I hardly thought it was important,’ he said evenly. ‘It was just Arcade. He is never welcome, but almost de rigueur , Chief Inspector. A private view would hardly be up to scratch if he didn’t stick his nose in.’
Pendragon gave him a puzzled look.
‘Francis Arcade’s a joke,’ Price went on. ‘I’m surprised he doesn’t hire himself out as a party entertainer, a performance artist.’
‘So, what happened?’
‘What happened? Mr Arcade showed up about ten-thirty.He hadn’t been invited, naturally. He was turned away, but wouldn’t take no for an answer and forced his way into the room. It was dreadfully dull. He should change the script a little.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Oh, he grabbed a drink, threw it over someone. Standard stuff. I was all for letting him stay. In a way, that’s the last thing he would have wanted. Would have defused things. But …’
‘But?’
‘Kingsley wouldn’t have any of it.’ Price’s voice dropped almost to a whisper.
‘Mr Berrick intervened?’
‘Well …’
‘Either he did or he didn’t, Mr Price.’
‘Yes, he intervened. He and Arcade traded insults and then Kingsley took his arm. It looked for a moment as though it might turn really nasty, but then someone else took Arcade’s other arm and the stupid kid just went limp … sort of gave up. Made his point, I suppose. They led him outside, and that was that.’
‘Who was the other person?’
Price stared at the floor unable to look Pendragon in the face. ‘I think you know, Chief Inspector.’
Chapter 14
To Mrs Sonia Thomson
13 October 1888
My mother died after a deliciously protracted illness. I was thirteen. I remember sitting with her in the darkened room directly opposite the top of the stairs in the east wing of the house. I grew fascinated by her physical degeneration. I had no emotional reaction to it whatsoever, but carefully catalogued each increment of her descent into Hell. For I was sure that if there were such a place, she would be heading that way. In fact, I took great pleasure in terrifying her with prophecy when we were alone together in that room. I spun such a tale of her sins … amplifying her every bad deed, convincing her utterly that she was destined for the eternal fires, that the flames would be lapping around her very soon. I recall standing outside the door and listening to my father’s pathetic attempts to calm her down and his lame efforts to make her believe that she would be going to Heaven, that the Lord would forgive her sins. She could never mention to him what
Pendragon was about to respond when his mobile rang. He recognised the number. ‘Turner,’ he said.
‘Guv, you have Jackson Price there?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve just interviewed Selina Carthage. She was one of the last to leave the party on Tuesday evening. You know,one of the guests who stayed a while with Berrick, Price and Hedridge?’
‘Yes.’
‘She confirms that Hedridge and Berrick left together. She then went home. She lives in one of those posh places in Moorgate with a doorman downstairs. He confirms she came in around one-forty-five. Anyway, Ms Carthage reckons there was a bit of scene at the private view.’
‘Can you be a little more specific, Sergeant?’
‘There was a gatecrasher. A guy called Francis Arcade, would you believe?’ Turner sniggered. ‘A bit of a lad, apparently. Well known as a trouble maker.’
‘Okay, thanks, Sergeant. Where are you now?’
‘Off to see the last geezer who hung back at the gallery, a bloke called Chester Gerachi. Why is it all these arty types have such weird names?’
Pendragon ignored the question and closed his phone. ‘That was my sergeant,’ he said, turning a hard gaze on Jackson Price. ‘Tells me there was a gatecrasher at the private view. You failed to mention that.’
Price showed little reaction, simply shrugged. ‘I hardly thought it was important,’ he said evenly. ‘It was just Arcade. He is never welcome, but almost de rigueur , Chief Inspector. A private view would hardly be up to scratch if he didn’t stick his nose in.’
Pendragon gave him a puzzled look.
‘Francis Arcade’s a joke,’ Price went on. ‘I’m surprised he doesn’t hire himself out as a party entertainer, a performance artist.’
‘So, what happened?’
‘What happened? Mr Arcade showed up about ten-thirty.He hadn’t been invited, naturally. He was turned away, but wouldn’t take no for an answer and forced his way into the room. It was dreadfully dull. He should change the script a little.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Oh, he grabbed a drink, threw it over someone. Standard stuff. I was all for letting him stay. In a way, that’s the last thing he would have wanted. Would have defused things. But …’
‘But?’
‘Kingsley wouldn’t have any of it.’ Price’s voice dropped almost to a whisper.
‘Mr Berrick intervened?’
‘Well …’
‘Either he did or he didn’t, Mr Price.’
‘Yes, he intervened. He and Arcade traded insults and then Kingsley took his arm. It looked for a moment as though it might turn really nasty, but then someone else took Arcade’s other arm and the stupid kid just went limp … sort of gave up. Made his point, I suppose. They led him outside, and that was that.’
‘Who was the other person?’
Price stared at the floor unable to look Pendragon in the face. ‘I think you know, Chief Inspector.’
Chapter 14
To Mrs Sonia Thomson
13 October 1888
My mother died after a deliciously protracted illness. I was thirteen. I remember sitting with her in the darkened room directly opposite the top of the stairs in the east wing of the house. I grew fascinated by her physical degeneration. I had no emotional reaction to it whatsoever, but carefully catalogued each increment of her descent into Hell. For I was sure that if there were such a place, she would be heading that way. In fact, I took great pleasure in terrifying her with prophecy when we were alone together in that room. I spun such a tale of her sins … amplifying her every bad deed, convincing her utterly that she was destined for the eternal fires, that the flames would be lapping around her very soon. I recall standing outside the door and listening to my father’s pathetic attempts to calm her down and his lame efforts to make her believe that she would be going to Heaven, that the Lord would forgive her sins. She could never mention to him what
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