‘She says nobody knows much about Wylie though. Hardly ever saw him.’
They arrived at last at Northcote Square, to find it jammed with media and police vehicles.
‘It didn’t take them long to find out, did it?’ Kathy said.
‘It was on the eight o’clock news this morning,’ the driver said.‘They quoted a spokesman for the gallery.’
Fergus Tait, Kathy thought, he never misses a trick.
She thanked them and ran across to 53 Urma Street and rang the bell. It was some time before the intercom beside the door crackled and a cautious female voice asked,‘Yes?’
‘It’s me, Poppy, Kathy Kolla from the police.’
‘I’ll come down and let you in,’ the voice whispered. ‘Wait a minute.’
She opened the door with a furtive look around the square, then led Kathy to the big living area upstairs where Gabe was sprawled out on one of the sofas, white curls against white leather. He lifted a hand in a lazy greeting and rearranged his long limbs to let Poppy sit by his side.
‘It was my idea to come here,’Poppy said.‘Gabe thinks I’m overreacting, but I’m not. He’s in danger, Kathy, I’m sure of it now, after what happened to Stan.’
‘What makes you think that?’ Kathy took a seat facing them. The room had a musty, unaired smell, and there was a pile of unwashed dishes on the kitchen bench top.
‘Stan was killed more or less in front of Gabe. It’s a warning that he’s next.’
‘Come on, Poppy,’ Gabe said.‘That doesn’t follow.’
‘Whoever’s doing this is insane,’ Poppy insisted, becoming more agitated. ‘They hate you-they took Tracey, didn’t they? I think they hate all of us here in the square. I think it’s a deliberate campaign against us, and you’re the most famous, the most obvious target.’
‘You mean it’s an art critic?’ Gabe laughed, but there was no humour in his voice.
‘In a way, yes!’ Poppy grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, sounding shrill. ‘You can laugh, but you know there are thousands of people who hate what we do and the publicity we get for it. They say we just rip the public off, playing with pretentious ideas about life and death that we’ve got no right to. Well I think one of them’s decided to make us face life and death for real, just like those messages on the walls say.’
Gabe looked at her with concern. ‘But what about Betty?’ he said soothingly.‘She wasn’t one of us.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Poppy hesitated, pulling away from his attempt to stroke her hair. ‘But there is somebody who hates us and Betty.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Think about it, Gabe.’
He did, but clearly had no idea what she was talking about. She shot a quick glance at Kathy who also looked blank, then she said fiercely,‘Reg Gilbey.’
‘Old Reg!’ Gabe burst out laughing.
‘You know Reg detests what we do! He says we’re self-indulgent children who make a mockery of everything he loves and has devoted his life to-he used those very words to me once. He said we’re poisoning the well that artists have been drinking from for thousands of years.’
‘Did he really say that? That’s rather good.’ Gabe smiled to himself, turning the phrase over in his mind.
‘He meant it, too. And he also got seriously mad with Betty. I don’t know why she couldn’t stand him, but she did everything she could to get up his nose. She used to call him “the monster next door”.’
‘Yes, granted…’ Gabe frowned, more serious now as he considered it.‘But still, old Reg? Anyway, how could he have tracked Stan down when nobody else could find him?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding him all this time.’She turned to Kathy.‘Did you lot search Reg’s house after Stan disappeared?’
‘No, we had no reason to. But were they friends?’
‘Not friends, no, but they did drink together sometimes in The Daughters of Albion. After he’d had a few Reg’d tease Stan, call him “my friend, Auguste” after Rodin, or “my old mate, Benvenuto”-as in Cellini, you know-or one of the other great sculptors. Stan would just take the joke and say “all right, Pablo” and let Reg buy him another drink. I used to wonder about it.’
‘Look,’ Kathy said,‘this really is just guesswork, isn’t it? You don’t have anything solid against Reg Gilbey, do you?’
‘Maybe not,’ Poppy conceded, ‘but I still say Gabe’s in danger.’
‘Okay, I don’t rule that out, or that you could be too, Poppy, come to that. Look at it another way. If Betty’s and Stan’s deaths are related to Tracey’s abduction, could it be because they knew something that the abductor is trying to hide?’
‘But you’ve caught him, haven’t you?’
‘We don’t have any direct proof that the man we arrested, Robert Wylie, took Tracey.’
‘And maybe there are others you haven’t caught yet,’ Gabe said, voice flat and forlorn. Poppy instinctively put out a hand to clutch his arm.
‘That’s right,’Kathy said.‘You told me, Poppy, that Stan had hinted to you that the people who took Tracey had a friend in the square, do you remember?’
Poppy nodded.
‘Is there anything else that Stan or Betty said to either of you that could help us? I want you to think back over your conversations with them, especially in the last couple of months. Do it carefully, remembering each time, and writing down as much as you can remember. Will you do that? It could be important.’
Poppy nodded but Gabe looked doubtful.
‘Yes, we will,’ Poppy said. ‘Won’t we, Gabe?’ She got a half-hearted nod. ‘And in return, will you give us protection? I’ve tried to persuade Gabe to leave London, but he says he has to stay for the work.’
‘You know I do, babe,’ he murmured.‘This is the most important thing I’ve ever done.’
‘I’ll talk to my boss and see what can be arranged,’ Kathy said. ‘There is one other thing. It may not mean anything… Do you have a book about Henry Fuseli’s work here, Gabe?’
He looked startled.‘What do you know about him?’
‘Only that you used one of his paintings as inspiration for The Night-Mare.’
‘You have been doing your homework, haven’t you, Sergeant Kolla?’
There was something about the playful way he said this, almost flirtatious, that registered in Poppy’s eyes. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said sharply, and got to her feet. She pulled a thick volume from the bookshelves and brought it to Kathy, letting it drop on her lap. It wasn’t the same book that Kathy had been looking at the previous night but if anything it seemed more comprehensive. She turned the pages of the early chapters until she found the picture, and was aware of Gabe’s eyes on her all the time.
‘There…’ She handed the open book across to him. ‘You see the two figures in the background, Justice and Liberty? Both have their hands tied behind their backs, and one is blindfolded. Like Betty and Stan.’
Gabe took a long look, then gave a low whistle. ‘I’d forgotten this one. How did you find it?’ He stared at Kathy.
‘Just looking for clues.’
‘Well, I’m amazed, Kathy, really,’ Gabe said. ‘That’s inspired, it really is. But I always knew you were the bright one, didn’t I? Do you remember, that first time we met? I told you the others were hopeless.’The respect and interest in Gabe’s voice, together with what now looked like jealousy on Poppy’s face, caught Kathy unawares, and she felt an embarrassing blush grow in her cheek.
‘But how could this have anything to do with what happened?’ Poppy’s voice cut in.‘I mean, it’s odd I suppose, but so what?’
‘Don’t be dumb, love.’ Now it was Poppy’s pale face that flushed at Gabe’s words. ‘You think someone might have arranged things as a message to me, Kathy?’
‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’
‘Assuming that I’d be bright enough to remember my own sources, which it so happens I wasn’t. Well, that is intriguing, isn’t it? In fact it’s bloody scary when you think about it, because frankly, I’m the only one around who’s quoting from Fuseli. I should have spotted it straight away. I do thank you, Kathy. I really do.’
Kathy shrugged, avoiding his eyes. He was playing some game with Poppy, she felt sure, deliberately provoking her, and doing it very successfully.
