‘When Michael Solomon was in bed with Mavis?’
‘Wild days.’ Ger O’Loughlin managed a thin smile.
‘And you didn’t object?’
‘We were young. It was the age of free love and permissiveness. Mind you, Garry went crazy with hitting Mavis. It took all my strength to pull him off.’
‘Were you a strong man?’
‘I used to work out at the gym.’
‘What can you tell me about the structure around the fireplace in Bellevue Street?’ Wendy asked.
‘Nothing. I never went around to the house after that day.’
‘When she caught you in bed with Gertrude?’
‘You’ve done your homework. Who told you?’
‘Mavis. So why was she upset if you had both been indulging in wife swapping?’
‘As she saw it, a wife-swapping party was by mutual consent of all parties, whereas my sleeping with her sister was a private agreement.’
‘How did you see it?’ Wendy asked.
‘An afternoon screw, nothing more. It was not the first time that I had slept with her.’
‘Mavis kicks the two of you out, subsequently forgives the sister, but not you.’
‘She forgave me, but the trust that Mavis had for me was broken. We both moved on.’
At that point, the young daughter came in and asked Wendy to leave as her father needed to rest. There seemed no reason for her to stay longer in Ireland. There was a late-night flight; she intended to catch it.
Chapter 15
Larry decided to focus on Garry Solomon. His whereabouts between 1984 and 1987 were still vague, apart from the times he visited the clothing shop to buy some hand-made shirts and trousers. Solomon’s last visit had been in 1986, approximately one year before his murder.
There were no criminal activities registered against either of the two names he had been using, which meant he was either honestly employed or out of the country. Or, possibly, he had managed to evade the long arm of the law. Larry saw that option as remote, as Garry Solomon had shown himself to be a small-time criminal of limited abilities. The man had received a good education, was apparently articulate and intelligent, yet he remained a petty criminal. It all seemed incongruous to Larry, who was a strong believer that a person should make the best of what was given at birth and in their life, and should always strive for more.
It was a philosophy that drove him on in his career within the London Metropolitan Police. He was aiming to make detective chief inspector within a year, superintendent in three, and chief superintendent in five. He knew that he needed one or two university degrees to achieve his final goal, but working with Homicide was demanding and he knew he was not keeping up with his studies.
The only way to achieve the degrees was to take six months off work and to study to exhaustion, sleep and study again. However, he had a family and another child on the way. It would be another five years before he could see any financial relief.
Montague Grenfell, when questioned, had offered no information as to where Solomon had gone, but Larry and Isaac had regarded that as further obstructive behaviour.
Bridget had managed to find records of a driving licence issued to Garry Solomon, the address in Knightsbridge. It seemed an upmarket location after Greenwich.
Larry saw it as a long shot, but there were no other leads. He made his way out to the property in Montpelier Square. The house was as opulent as the house in Greenwich had been rundown. He knocked on the door. A woman in her sixties answered.
‘Detective Inspector Larry Hill, Challis Street Police Station.’
‘What can I do for you?’
‘I need to ask you some questions.’ Larry showed his ID badge. The door opened fully to let him in. He observed that the house was beautifully decorated, and the woman was very attractive.
‘Your name?’ Larry asked once he was seated in the main room of the house.
‘Barbara Ecclestone.’
‘Have you lived here long?’
‘It was my parents’ house. I grew up here.’
‘I’m looking for a Garry Solomon, or as he was also known, Solly Michaels.’
‘So was I, for a long time.’
‘You knew him?’
‘We lived together.’
‘What can you tell me about him?’
‘Is he dead?’
‘I’m sorry.’
The woman, obviously distraught, sat down to compose herself.
‘I’m not surprised,’ she said.
‘Are you alright?’ Larry asked.
‘He walked out on me a long time in the past. I was upset back then. Now, it’s just the shock of facing reality.’
‘Did you look for him?’
‘Everywhere I could think of.’
‘Did he have many friends?’
‘Not in the two years that he was here with me. We spent most of the time here, occasionally walking up to Harrods to buy the groceries.’
‘What do you know about his past life?’
‘He became involved with a criminal element, started trafficking drugs. He did time for that on a couple of occasions.’
‘Were you involved with him then?’
‘On and off. I went through a wild period, but, as with Garry, I settled down. Got older, I suppose.’
‘What do you know about his family life?’
‘He mentioned his father once or twice, although I never met him. Any mention of his mother and he would get upset. No idea why. My mother was a bitch, but I still miss her. Are they still alive?’
‘The father died some years ago; the mother, recently.’
‘Did she know that her son had died?’
‘She did. She died soon after.’
‘How sad.’
‘Do you know the date when he disappeared?’
‘January 21st, 1987.’
‘Good memory.’
‘It was my birthday. I had made a special meal, bought some champagne, but he goes out for a couple of hours and never comes back. In the end, I threw the meal in the bin
