you’ll be safe.’
Wylie chewed his lip.‘All right. Do it straight away. My brief’ll contact you after that.’
The girl at the entrance desk of the gallery was distracted by the winding snake of school students when Kathy arrived.‘Sorry,’Kathy said.‘I can see you’ve got your hands full. I want to see Mr Tait.’
‘He’s in his office, I think. Do you want me to ring…’
‘Don’t worry, I know where it is.’ Kathy smiled brightly and continued past the scrum in the hall down the corridor that led to Fergus Tait’s office. She knocked at the door, and Tait opened it.‘Ah, Sergeant, what can I do for you?’
‘I’d like to have another look in Stan Dodworth’s room, if that’s all right.’
‘Again? Your people were there yesterday. They have the key.’
‘Oh, of course. I should have realised.’
‘Not to worry. If you won’t get me into trouble, I’ll confess that I have a spare. You can use that.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Are you any closer to some answers, might I ask?’
‘There’s not a lot I can tell you.’
‘Ah, only I paid a visit to Gabe this morning and he’s in a bad way. He’s worked himself up to such a pitch. I’ve never seen him so frayed, coming apart at the seams, pale as a ghost. Poppy’s very worried about him.’
‘I’ll go and see them when I’ve finished here.’
‘Today’s will be the sixteenth banner. We’re running out of space. Don’t call me a cynical businessman if I say that it would be a great relief to everyone concerned if you could wind this thing up before too long.’
‘We’re doing our best.’
‘Of course. I’ll get you that key.’
While he searched in a drawer of his desk, Kathy said, ‘I spoke to Sir Jack Beaufort just now. I believe he was in here earlier, wasn’t he? Did you manage to sell him something?’
Tait raised his eyebrows.‘No chance of that. He was mad because I told you about selling him that painting of Betty’s. Goodness knows why he was so upset. Told me in no uncertain terms not to gossip about him. Gossip! I ask you.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever come across a little oil painting that Tracey Rudd did, have you? A self- portrait.’
Tait looked at her in surprise. ‘Tracey? No, I’ve never heard of that.’
In Stan Dodworth’s room she found that the gruesome contents that would be of interest to the coroner had been removed. There seemed little chance that the searchers would have overlooked a painting of a child’s face, but Kathy searched anyway, without result. Later, she would check the inventory of items the police had removed, again without finding any reference to it.
23
He’s on something, no doubt about it. I’m Colin, by the way.’ The officer closed the front door behind Kathy and turned to face her, speaking with voice lowered. He was wearing a protective vest over his uniform shirt and tie, and a 9-mm Browning was holstered on his right hip, yet he looked like a boy, barely old enough to be out of school. ‘Doesn’t look as if he’s slept for days, and he’s getting to the jumpy stage, I reckon. I told the lady we should get a doctor to check him, but she said he won’t hear of it.’ ‘Has he been giving you any trouble?’
‘No. He stays up on the top floor most of the time, working. At least he’s safe up there.’
They climbed up the stairs to the main living floor, where Poppy was sitting by the big windows overlooking the square. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I saw you coming.’ Her voice sounded distant and vague.
‘How are you?’ Kathy asked.
‘Oh… not bad. Bit tired.’ She gazed blankly out at the skeletal branches in the gardens silhouetted against the grey sky.
Kathy wondered if this distraction was the result of a night in bed with Gabe, but then noticed the slightly uncoordinated hand movement as the magazine on Poppy’s lap slid to the floor. ‘Have you been taking medication, Poppy?’
‘What?’Poppy slowly turned her head.‘Oh, Gabe gave me something to relax me, that’s all. He says I’m too wound up after what’s happened. God, you should see him! He’s on three packs of fags a day now.’
‘Has he been taking pills too?’
‘I don’t know. Probably. Can’t blame him, can you? Poor Stan. Poor Betty. Poor Tracey.’ A tear began to trickle down Poppy’s pale cheek.‘Gabe says it’s finished now, but it isn’t, is it?’
‘Why don’t you lie down and get a bit of sleep?’
‘Yes, I might do that.’
‘Colin here will help you down the stairs while I talk to Gabe.’
‘Right… Don’t be cross with him about the pills, Kathy. He’s doing the best he can. He doesn’t show it much, about Trace and everything, but that’s just his act.’
‘Don’t worry.’
Kathy watched the young constable take hold of Poppy’s arm and help her to her feet. Her legs seemed rubbery and he had to support her to the stairs.
‘Can you manage there, Colin?’ Kathy asked, and he grinned and nodded. They disappeared and she took the stairs up to the studio. As she pushed open the door a cloud of cigarette smoke billowed out to meet her. Gabe was on his hands and knees on the floor. He was wearing a stained T-shirt and boxer shorts, bare feet, white curls all over his face, and looked like a shipwrecked soul crawling out of the sea. He lifted his head towards her and stared through red-rimmed eyes without a glimmer of recognition.
‘Gabe? It’s me, Kathy Kolla, from the police.’
‘Oh… yeah.’ He got laboriously to his feet and pushed the hair out of his eyes. His chest was heaving with quick, shallow breaths.‘Sorry, concentrating.’
Kathy saw that he had been crawling across a long roll of plastic, scribbling red pencil marks on what looked like a draft print of another banner.
‘Yesterday’s number fifteen. Liberty and Justice, remember?’ His words were slightly slurred.
She saw the two figures dangling from a gibbet. ‘Yes, I remember. How are you feeling?’
‘On fire… drowning.’
‘You should get some rest. I’m going to call a doctor to look at you.’
‘NO!’ The sudden violence of his shout made her start. ‘I mean, no, please. Maybe tomorrow, but I haven’t got time just now. When I’ve finished this I’ll be able to sleep, then everything’ll be fine.’
‘You sure?’
‘Really. Absolutely.’ He reached for a mug of something and took a gulp, then for the pack of cigarettes beside it. ‘They never found Dave, you know.’ He blew smoke.
‘Dave?’
‘My little badger friend. He scarpered. Sensible bloke.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘You think I’m paranoid, don’t you? Well, you know what they say-just ’cause you’re paranoid doesn’t mean the bastards aren’t out to get you.’ He chuckled at his own joke.
‘Why would anyone be out to get you?’
‘See! You do think I’m paranoid. They’d be out to get me because I know too much.’
‘What do you know?’
‘Ah, that’s the question.’
‘Look, why don’t I get you some food. I think you’d feel better.’
He waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’ve eaten. Mrs Fikret brought us stuff.’ He glared at an untouched plate of kebabs and vegetables on a table. ‘Look, come over here, I wanna show you something you’ll like. Come on.’
Kathy followed him over to the plastic on the floor and looked where he was pointing. Beneath the hanged figures was some text: The Fate of Justice and Liberty, as revealed by KK.
