‘I wouldn’t expect it to,’ Tony said gently. ‘And I’m sorry to intrude at a time when the last thing you want is strangers in your living room.’
Rachel relaxed slightly, her shoulders dropping and her arms loosening. ‘It fills some of the time,’ she said. ‘Nobody talks about that, do they? They all talk about the grief and the tears and the despair, but they don’t talk about the emptiness of your hours, the way the time stretches out.’ She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘I even thought about going into the office, just for something to do. But Lev’s home from school, I need to be here for him.’ She sighed. ‘Lev’s my little boy. He’s only six. He doesn’t understand dead. He doesn’t grasp that it’s permanent. He thinks Daddy’s going to be like Aslan, coming back to life, and everything as it was before.’
Her grief, he thought, was almost tangible. It seemed to flow from her in waves, lapping around him as it filled the room. ‘There are some things I need to ask you,’ he said.
Rachel pressed her hands together as if in prayer, elbows on the chair arm, cheek against the back of one hand. ‘Ask what you like. But I don’t see how it can help you do whatever it is you do.’
There was no way to come at this question delicately. ‘Mrs Diamond, did you know Yousef Aziz?’
She looked startled, as if this was a name she never expected to hear in this house. ‘The bomber?’ She gagged, as if she was going to be sick.
‘Yes,’ Tony said.
‘How would I know some fundamentalist Islamic suicide bomber?’ Each word spilled out as if it took a huge effort. ‘We are Jewish. We go to temple, not to the mosque.’ She sat up convulsively, her hands jerking in irregular, spastic movements.
‘His family’s garment business traded with B&R,’ Paula said, her voice as gentle as Tony’s. ‘You are a director of B&R, Mrs Diamond.’
She looked hunted, an animal at bay. ‘I work in the office. Benjamin, he did all the…He was the one with the…I never heard this name before he blew up my husband.’
‘Is there anybody else at work he might have mentioned Aziz to?’ Paula asked.
‘There’s only us. It’s not a labour-intensive business, our part of it. We did it together. No secretaries, no sales team.’ She smiled, a sad, wistful affair.
‘Are you sure? It’s been in all the papers, Rachel,’ Tony said. ‘His name. The family firm, First Fabrics. You didn’t recognize it?’
Rachel was rocking in her chair, her eyes flickering from one to the other. ‘I recognize the name. I see it in the B&R accounts. But I haven’t been reading the papers. Why would I want to read about this thing? Why would I want to read about how my husband died? You think I’ve been poring over the newspapers?’
‘Of course not,’ Tony said, trying to soothe her agitation. ‘I just thought you might have noticed it. But the thing is, B&R has been dealing directly with First Fabrics. Cutting out the middleman. So I’m thinking that Benjamin must have known Yousef Aziz. They must have spoken on the phone. They must have met. You see, it’s very unusual for there to be any relationship between a bomber and his victims.’
‘Relationship?’ Rachel made it sound as if she’d never heard the word before. ‘What do you mean, “relationship”? What are you suggesting about my husband?’
‘Nothing beyond the fact that they knew each other,’ Tony said hastily. This was not going well. ‘Generally, you see, one of the things that makes it possible for a bomber to carry out his mission is that he can depersonalize his victims. They’re not real people, they’re the enemy, they’re corrupt, whatever. If they have any personal connection to the potential victims, it makes it much harder for them to do what they’ve set their heart on. That’s why I’m curious to know how well Benjamin knew his killer.’ He spread his hands, beseeching. ‘That’s all, Rachel.’
‘How do you know that this, this piece of…this bomber had any idea Benjamin was going to be there? Why would he research which individuals he might kill? He just wanted to make his filthy, stupid point.’ She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. ‘This is just a horrible coincidence.’
She might be right, Tony thought. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Or it would be if the target had profiled right. He clung on to his theory, unwilling to concede that he was wrong when it came to understanding the patterns of human behaviour. ‘It’s possible,’ he said.
She shuddered again, covering her face with her hands. She looked up at him piteously. ‘We paid them money. We have their…In our warehouse, we have things their hands have touched. It disgusts me. What kind of people are they, to do a thing like this to us?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Tony said. ‘So very sorry. But I have to be sure. Your husband never spoke about who he dealt with at First Fabrics? He never discussed his meetings with them?’
‘You’re welcome to look at his diary. It’s at the office. But this is all I know. Benjamin was supposed to meet with a Greek Cypriot we buy from, but the man had been delayed. While he was waiting, he met someone from a company whose work we’d bought before, via the middleman. We liked their work, it was good quality, reliable. Which is more than you can say for a lot of them.’ It was an acid little aside. ‘Benjamin told me they’d got talking and they’d ended up doing a deal on some exclusive designs that First Fabrics had worked up themselves. It was an arrangement that worked for both of us. And it was working out.’
‘There was no question of you pulling out of the arrangement? No bad feeling for any reason?’ Paula came in with the detective’s question.
Rachel pushed her hair back from her face, looking suddenly weary. ‘Nothing like that, no. If anything, we were happy to do more business with them. Because of the way we’d set it up, there was a better profit margin for us. Detective, there was no possible business reason for this person to attack Benjamin. As I said before, it can only be some horrible coincidence.’
Before either of them could press further, the door opened and a small boy came in. Slender and dark, he looked as if he still had to grow into his features. He shuffled from foot to foot, fiddling with the fringe on a throw. ‘Mum, I need you to come and help me with my Lego,’ he said, ignoring the strangers in his house.
‘In a minute, darling.’ She turned back to Tony. ‘This is our son, Lev.’ She stood up. ‘I think we’re finished here. There’s truly nothing more I can help you with. Please, let me show you out.’
They followed her to the door, Tony struggling to keep up. Lev walked with them. ‘Do you know my dad?’ he said abruptly to Tony.
