Her words triggered a chain reaction in Tony’s brain. He gazed at Paula in appalled wonder. ‘Paula, Tom Cross lived on Dunelm Drive. Danny Wade won the lottery; he was a millionaire by age thirty. He’s killing people who went to his school who have achieved his goals.’
Paula took her foot off the accelerator in surprise. The jolt as the gears protested made Tony yelp. ‘That’s crazy,’ she said. ‘Even for you, that’s pretty wild. You’re saying he’s killing people out of envy? Because they’ve got what he wanted?’
Tony’s hands made incoherent shapes in the air. ‘There’s more to it than that…It’s something to do with having his dreams taken away from him, so he’s taking their lives from them. But in essence, yes. His goal list is also his murder list. I bet you that “playing for Bradfield Victoria” or at the very least, “playing premiership football” was on that list too.’
‘You really think that’s it?’ Paula sounded incredulous.
‘It makes sense.’
‘That’s your idea of sense?’
‘Paula, in the world I work in, that’s not just sense, it’s celestial logic.’ He fell silent, holding up a finger to hush her when she tried to speak. He rubbed his eyelids with finger and thumb then turned in his seat to face her. ‘Kevin went to the Double Aitch,’ he said slowly.
‘Kevin? You don’t think-’
‘He drives a Ferrari. He’s Bradfield born, bred and buttered.’ Tony was already struggling to get his phone out of the pocket of his waxed jacket.
‘What are you doing?’ Paula asked.
‘I’m warning him.’ The phone was free and clear, Tony’s index finger poised to strike.
‘You can’t go off on one like that. You’ve got no evidence,’ Paula protested.
‘I’ve got about as much as I usually have when I draw up a profile,’ Tony said. ‘You lot are generally happy enough to act on that.’
Paula bit her lip. ‘Shouldn’t you talk to the chief first? See if she thinks there’s anything to it?’
‘Paula, I’m not asking Kevin to do anything operational. How would you feel if I didn’t say anything and…’ His voice trailed off. He knew exactly how she would feel. He’d listened to her enough to know the answer.
‘Phone him,’ she snapped. ‘You’re right, damn it. You’ve been the only one who’s had a fucking clue on this case. Do it.’
Tony dialled the number and waited. No ring tone, just a straight transfer to voicemail. ‘Shit, his phone’s off… Kevin, this is Tony. This is going to sound crazy, and I’ll explain it all later. I want you to avoid eating or drinking anything that could have been tampered with. Things in tins and bottles and vacuum packs are fine as long as the seals are intact. Or if you’re cooking with fresh ingredients, probably. Because I think there’s a chance you might be next on the poisoner’s list. I can’t go into it now, Paula and I are about to interview someone about Saturday. But…’ He heard a beep in his ear, indicating his time was up. ‘Voicemail,’ he said. ‘I hope he picks it up.’
Paula turned into a driveway. The house, he knew, must have cost the thick end of a couple of million, given its location, its acreage and its size. It was a beautifully proportioned manor house in mellow Victorian brick. Long herbaceous borders flanked the drive. Water features sparkled in the middle distance. It reeked of opulence and good taste.
Paula whistled. ‘Makes you wonder how all those crappy clothes get into the shops. Benjamin Diamond must have used up all his taste on the house.’
‘It’s very choice,’ Tony said. ‘But I don’t suppose any of it makes much difference to his widow right now.’
Paula looked chastened. She pulled up by a row of garages which had obviously started their working lives as stables. ‘Do you need a hand?’ she asked.
‘I think it’s better if I just struggle,’ Tony said, doing just that. Everything hurt today. Mrs Chakrabarti was right. He was in hospital for a reason. Unfortunately, killers never took things like that into consideration.
Rachel Diamond answered the door, introducing herself before Paula had the chance to speak. She wore a charcoal silk shirt tucked into a black skirt that swirled and flowed as she walked. Tony didn’t know much about clothes, but he felt pretty sure Rachel’s mourning outfit didn’t come from any of the chain stores B&R supplied. She ushered them into a large sitting room with a deep pentagonal bay window on one corner, giving on to a vista of shrubbery and trees. In a gap between foliage, there was a turquoise sliver of swimming pool. The room itself was furnished and decorated in a toned-down contemporary version of Victorian domestic style. It had the slightly scuffed air of a room that was used rather than displayed. A touch of vivid colour came from half a dozen bright, warm paintings of desert landscapes.
Rachel fussed over Tony, bringing him a couple of footstools and various cushions so they could establish the most comfortable position for his leg. She knelt by his feet, shifting and adjusting things till he was comfortable. Her dark hair was glossy and thick, but he could see some tiny flecks of silver at the roots. Then she looked up and he had the chance to look at her properly for the first time, free from the distraction of managing leg and crutches.
She had good skin, creamy and faintly olive tinted. He knew she was thirty-four, but if he hadn’t known, he would have placed her in her late twenties. Her well-shaped brows followed the high arch of her eye sockets perfectly, drawing attention to almond-shaped hazel eyes rimmed with red and sporting a fan of faint lines at the corners. Plump cheeks, a nose like the inverted prow of a ship, a lean-lipped mouth bracketed by a pair of lines that gave the impression she smiled a lot. She was striking rather than beautiful, but she looked combatively intelligent and good fun. ‘How’s that?’ she said.
‘As comfortable as it’s been in a week,’ Tony said. ‘Thank you.’
Rachel got to her feet and curled her legs under her in a squashy chintz armchair. Paula was off to one side, happy to look like part of the furniture until she felt the need to make a contribution.
Now there was nothing practical to occupy her, Rachel looked sad and lost. She folded her arms across her chest as if she was hugging herself. The room was warm, but she gave a little shiver. ‘I’m not really clear why you wanted to see me,’ she said. ‘That’s probably me. Nothing’s really making much sense right now.’
