Body Line

other qualities he married her for.’ She sipped her water. ‘But still, I was surprised that he messed about with Mrs Lescroit like that. He wasn’t a bottom-pincher, in the usual way of things. At least, Eunice and Anthea, his secretary, had no complaints about him. Mr Webber was the one you didn’t want to get in a lift with on your own. He was one of those people who always managed to accidentally brush against you as you passed, you know what I mean?’

‘All that sort of thing’s illegal now,’ Emily pointed out.

‘Oh, I know, but consultants are different. They’re so powerful, and they all stick together like one big club. You’d have to be very brave to stand up to one of them, if you’re just a lowly nurse or secretary.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, it was a bit ironic, really, for Mr Rogers to get caught like that on the very day his wife’s in the building.’

‘She was?’ Emily said in surprise.

‘Yes, she’d come to see Mr Webber about some charity thing she was involved with. Stephanie told me. Hoping to touch him for some money for it, apparently. I saw her go up just before it happened.’

‘So she was with Mr Webber when it started?’

‘She was waiting for him in his office – or in Stephanie’s room, rather. Mr Webber had gone to the gents or something. He was on his way back when the fuss started.’ She sighed. ‘Poor Mr Rogers. His wife divorced him not long after that, and I suppose that was what triggered it. I know it was a terrible thing for him to do, and that he was lucky not to have been struck off, but I must say, I’ve always wondered whether Mrs Lescroit made a mistake – she was only half awake, and a bit dopey from the Valium. Maybe she saw him leaning over her and just imagined the touching. And because of her Mr Rogers lost pretty much everything, his wife, his house, his career, everything.’

‘And now his life,’ Emily murmured.

‘You don’t think that could have had anything to do with the Mrs Lescroit thing, surely?’ Ros looked startled. ‘It was so long ago.’

‘No, I don’t suppose a vengeful husband would wait ten years to make the point,’ Emily said.

‘And as I remember, Mrs Lescroit was a divorcee, anyway,’ said Ros.

‘So, if you were all sworn to secrecy,’ Emily asked, ‘how did it get into the papers?’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ Ros said stoutly. ‘If Mrs Lescroit had accepted money, I didn’t see it was anyone else’s business to blow the whistle. I suppose she might have talked, even so – told her best friend or something.’ She thought a moment. ‘Or maybe it was Eunice. I know she wasn’t happy about it being hushed up. Mr Webber had her in his office for ages, according to Stephanie, talking to her a like a Dutch uncle. And soon afterwards she left – got a more senior position at some private hospital, according to Anthea, with much better pay. Stephanie always reckoned Mr Webber got her the job to shut her up.’

‘It was a lot of trouble to go to for Mr Rogers.’

‘Well, they were friends from way back. And, like I said, he was a man’s man.’

‘Do you know what hospital it was?’

‘That Eunice went to? No, not offhand. I didn’t really see her after that day. Well, Mr Rogers wasn’t seeing any more patients so he didn’t need a nurse. And she had holiday entitlement to use up, so she took that instead of notice.’

‘I wonder if Stephanie would know.’

‘I shouldn’t think she knew any more than me. But in any case, you can’t ask her,’ Ros said, ‘because she’s not around any more. She was in an accident. She got knocked down and killed on her way home late one night.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ said Emily.

‘It was an awful thing,’ Ros said, staring at her hands. Here at last was something that could disturb her professional composure. ‘It was a hit-and-run driver, so they never even found out who did it. Not that that would have brought her back, but at least it gives you a sense of—’

She paused so long that Emily felt obliged to suggest, ‘Closure?’

She looked up. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s what it is. It doesn’t make the thing right, but it allows you to move on.’

‘What about Anthea? Would she know anything more?’

‘I don’t know. She emigrated to Australia soon afterwards, and I’ve never heard anything from her since. So what’s your interest in this old story? It isn’t much of one, really. Is it just because poor Mr Rogers is dead?’

‘That’s right,’ Emily said. ‘I thought there might be something I could work up – not straight away, of course – that would be in bad taste – but eventually. Something about the playboy doctor brought low by a single fleeting impulse. But I’m not sure, now, that there’s really an angle to work from.’

‘No, it’s all rather sad and sordid,’ Ros agreed. ‘I feel a bit guilty now for wasting your time.’

‘On the contrary, I feel I’ve wasted yours,’ Emily said, not to be outdone in gallantry.

Ros smiled. ‘Oh, I’ve enjoyed it. It’s nice to get out for lunch once in a while. I usually just have a yogurt and an apple at my desk. Very dull. It’s nice to have someone to talk to for a change. I googled you, after you telephoned me, you know,’ she confessed, ‘and read a couple of your pieces. You’re quite a writer! I always wanted to write. I think I could have been good at it if I’d ever had the chance.’

So for the sake of the cover story, Emily let her wander down that byway, talked about a journalist’s life, and encouraged her to start jotting down ‘some of the funny things I’ve seen’ that would ‘make a terrific novel’; and this beguiled the time until suddenly Ros looked at her watch and jumped up and said, ‘Oh, my God, I shall have to dash! There are very old-fashioned looks given if one dares to be even a minute late. Thank you so much for lunch. It’s been lovely meeting you. And if you do decide to write the story, I’d love to see a copy.’

‘I’ll send it to you first, to check the facts,’ Emily promised her solemnly.

She told her story to a small audience over tea and buns back at the station.

‘She was there at the time?’ Swilley exclaimed. ‘Amanda Whatserface? And she never said a word about it?’

‘Maybe she’s just too ashamed,’ Emily said. ‘Can’t bear talking about it. It needn’t be anything sinister.’

‘Maybe she’s just too arrogant to talk about it,’ Connolly suggested. ‘People like her don’t like talking about their private lives.’

‘It all sounds a bit strange to me,’ Slider said thoughtfully. ‘Why would Rogers suddenly turn into a groper?’

‘You don’t know it was sudden,’ Swilley said. ‘Only that he hadn’t got into trouble for it before. He was a ladies’ man, everyone says so. Maybe he just couldn’t resist it whenever he saw it.’

‘Well, I don’t know that it’s got us any further forward,’ Slider said, dissatisfied. ‘Except for knowing that Amanda was right there on the spot – which must have made the shock and anger greater.’

‘And this Mr Webber comes out as the good guy,’ Swilley said. ‘Helping his mate out of a jam.’

‘Maybe he was just trying to save the reputation of the practice,’ Connolly said. ‘Doesn’t mean he’s a heart of gold.’

‘But still, there’s something odd about it,’ Slider murmured, deep in thought. He roused himself to praise Emily. ‘You did a good job.’

‘Thanks.’ Emily looked pleased. ‘I’d better get off, now. I have to get on with my Irish story for the Sundays. But I’ll get these notes written up this afternoon and email them to you straight away. And, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll look into these other two women who were on the spot – Eunice and Anthea. Maybe they’d have a different take on it, if I could track them down.’

ELEVEN

Penguin Gavotte

Frith was looking troubled and anxious, but as soon as Slider appeared he chose indignant as his motif du jour.

‘Look, what the hell’s going on? I’ve got a business to run. I can’t keep running back and forth to Shepherd’s Bush. What is it you want that’s so urgent?’

Slider tried direct for his. ‘Your fingerprints.’