around.’
Sandro said nothing. Turned away from her once more.
She followed him, not letting him alone. She tried to drop her voice, sound reasonable. ‘So now I’m here. And I’m asking for your help. Please.’
Another snort. ‘Please? Begging now? So you need my help and I’ve got to fuckin’ jump? Is that it? Click your fuckin’ fingers and I come runnin’? Yeah? Fuck you.’
She stared him down, eye to eye. ‘You sound just like Dad.’
He raised his arm, pulled it back. ‘I should give you the flat of my hand … ’
‘And now you are him. Just like Dad.’
She looked at him with undisguised contempt.
Something cracked behind Sandro’s eyes. ‘No I’m not. I’m not … ’ His voice wavered, like he was trying to convince himself. ‘I’m nothing like Dad … ’
She moved right up close to him. Almost whispering. ‘Then prove it. Prove you’re not.’
‘Shut up.’ He looked at her. Eyes soft, wet, like broken eggs.
‘Prove you’re not by helping me find my daughter.’
He tried to meet her gaze. Couldn’t. Turned away. ‘Just leave,’ he said. ‘Get out.’
Marina stayed where she was.
‘I said leave … ’ Sandro was almost snarling with anger.
‘Fine,’ she said, moving towards the door. ‘I’ll go. And you can stay here and live with yourself. Just like Dad and proud of it.’
‘Shut up … ’
She reached the door, turned. ‘I’m just glad our mother isn’t alive to see you do this.’
‘What?’ Sandro recoiled like he had been slapped.
‘You heard.’ She turned the handle.
Behind her, he sighed. It was like the last breath of a dying man. Or the first breath of a newborn. ‘OK.’
She turned. ‘Does that mean you’ll help?’
His hands went to his eyes. He couldn’t look at her.
‘What d’you want me to do?’
64
Jessie was just starting to question Dee Sloane. Deepak was next to her.
‘Do you drive a Fiat Punto?’
Dee Sloane’s eyes widened at the question. She hesitated. ‘No … What has this to do with the death of one of our ex-employees?’
Jessie ignored the question. ‘Does your brother Michael drive a Fiat Punto?’
‘No he doesn’t.’ She didn’t ask a question this time, just waited.
Jessie nodded. ‘Right.’ She said nothing more, appeared to be thinking. In reality, she was waiting.
‘Can I ask what this is about?’ Dee Sloane was starting to look tense.
Jessie kept her voice, her movements as languid as possible. ‘It’s just that a Fiat Punto was found burned out at the scene of an arson attack in Aldeburgh a couple of days ago.’
‘And you think … what? That Michael or myself was responsible for the attack? That’s ridiculous.’
‘Were you?’ Jessie tried to keep the question light, even allowing a smile to play at the corners of her mouth.
Dee Sloane didn’t answer. Just regarded Jessie with haughty contempt, as if the question was beneath her.
Jessie dropped the smile as she spoke. ‘We checked, and the car is registered to your brother. Was your brother in Aldeburgh two days ago?’
‘No. He wasn’t.’
‘Were you?’
‘No.’
‘Someone was,’ said Deepak. ‘And they were driving your brother’s car.’
Dee Sloane said nothing.
‘Was it stolen?’ asked Jessie.
‘No,’ said Dee. ‘We have a car for the staff to use. It may have been that one.’
‘But registered in your brother’s name.’
‘Yes.’
‘Not your company’s.’
Dee Sloane hesitated. ‘No.’
‘Why?’
Dee moved around on the sofa as if she couldn’t get comfortable. ‘It’s … something to do with tax. I think. Our accountant proposed it.’
‘Right.’ Jessie nodded as if that was cleared up. She saw Dee begin to relax. Keep going, she thought. ‘D’you have many staff?’ The question almost chatty.
‘Two housekeepers. Two kitchen staff.’
Jessie sat back, eyes widening. ‘Just like Downton. D’you watch that? I love it.’
Dee said nothing, but seemed to bask in Jessie’s words.
‘So which servant had the car?’
Dee looked thrown. ‘What?’
‘Which servant had the car? Who took it to Aldeburgh? When it got burnt out.’
‘I … I’d have to check. I don’t know.’ Dee was back to finding the sofa uncomfortable again.
‘And they never mentioned it?’ asked Deepak.
‘Something like that would be pretty major,’ said Jessie. ‘Losing a car. Especially when it’s in your boss’s name. Bet he wasn’t happy about that.’
Dee was beginning to look trapped. Jessie smiled inwardly. Then stopped herself. Just because she’d taken an instant dislike to the woman didn’t mean Dee was bad. Then she thought back to the others she had taken instant dislikes to and what they had been responsible for. No, she thought again. Trust your instincts.
‘So you don’t know who had the car?’ she said.
‘No.’
‘And you don’t know what they were doing in Aldeburgh?’
‘No,’ said Dee, clearly rattled. ‘I don’t know what they get up to on their days off.’
‘So you don’t know who it was or what they were doing but you know it was their day off. Could you find out for us, please?’
‘Why?’
‘We’d like to speak to whoever it was.’
‘They were present at a crime scene,’ said Deepak. ‘Might be a witness.’
Dee leaned forward, fire in her eyes. ‘I’m going to ask you to leave. You said you wanted to speak to me about the death of an ex-employee. And you haven’t done. So please go.’
Jessie didn’t respond, just nodded. ‘Oh, what did Helen Hibbert want?’ Again she made the question sound like a casual enquiry. She had no intention of leaving, not until she had asked the questions she wanted to ask. And she would use all of her tricks and techniques to make sure she did so.
‘Sorry?’ Again Dee looked rattled.
‘She left just before we came in. What did she want?’
Dee looked between the two of them. Like a trapped animal, thought Jessie.
‘She … wanted to talk about her husband.’
‘Who used to work for you.’
