‘I saw…’ Christine hesitated, trying to come up with a convincing story.
‘What Mrs Mason is trying to say is that she witnessed a traffic accident two weeks ago. A pedestrian was knocked over and subsequently died. She may be asked to give evidence if the driver is charged with manslaughter. Now your payroll, when’s it required?’
‘Not for another day,’ the manager, his nose out of joint, replied.
‘Then I suggest that you leave us alone.’
‘Christine, when you’re finished, could we meet to discuss outstanding work,’ the man said to Christine, looking past Wendy.
‘Any recriminations, any attempt to badger Mrs Mason, and I’ll be back here to discuss that rat dropping under the next table. And while I’m here, the woman sitting near the entrance. Who is she?’
‘I’ve never seen her before.’
‘But you know what she is. She’s a local whore waiting for one of your guests to take her to his room.’
‘That’s not illegal.’
‘I would agree, but it will reflect badly on you now that I’ve told you, won’t it?’
‘Please take your time,’ the manager said as he walked away.
‘There’ll be trouble later on,’ Christine said.
‘You need to stand up to bullies. The man’s a bore. Good at his job?’
‘Not really. The place has gone down since he took over, and the staff turnover is above the average.’
‘Coming back to where we were. The friend of a friend of a friend, prostitution?’
‘Standing in various poses, naked or dressed provocatively, yes.’
‘Men with cameras; if you go a little further, there’ll be some extra money.’
‘I didn’t want to do it. Not that I had any problem with the money, or even selling myself, but some of the men were fat and ugly, one or two even smelt.’
‘When you saw your mother?’
‘As I said, I looked the other way.’
‘Your sister married the man who made you pregnant. Is that correct?’
‘That’s what I told you. Why are you repeating what I’ve already said? And I must go. I do have a lot to do, and my husband’s coming back tonight. No idea why I bother. He’s not overseas doing business all the time. The people he deals with play the game by different rules.’
‘Bribery, corruption, women laid on to sweeten the deal?’
‘You know about this sort of thing?’
‘Christine, when you’ve been a police officer as long as I have, you learn a lot. The minor villains arrested for stealing a car, a dodgy respray, the hoodlum mugging someone for a credit card, a handbag, some cash to feed their drug habit, have nothing on the people your husband comes across. He either plays by their rules, or he gets no business. Coming back to your sister’s husband. You’ve become pregnant by him before they were married, and then you lost the child. Does your sister have children?’
‘No.’
‘Did her husband know about the unborn baby.’
‘Not at the time, but when my sister divorced him, the truth came out. Gwen, before she knew about him and me, had a fertility check, a sperm count for him.’
‘And?’
‘Gwen was fine, but he had a medical condition, low-quality sperm, supposedly. Apparently a genetic or a health problem. I don’t know which, but in his teens, seventeen and at his maximum virility, he had managed the one time to impregnate a woman, and she had miscarried.’
‘Where is he now, the seducer of sisters?’
‘He’s around. Two more wives, two more failed attempts at fatherhood.’
‘He could be bitter towards you. Sees you as the hussy who cheated him out of a son and heir.’
‘It was a daughter, I know that.’
‘Regardless, the man’s bitter, and over the years it festers in him, eventually bursting out in violence, against you, against anyone that you get close to.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Christine said. She was looking at the clock, fretting over work not done, a husband flying in. Wendy wrapped up the interview, thanked the woman and left the hotel.
Chapter 13
Barry and Matilda Montgomery’s father identified his daughter, declined to do the same for his son. Not that there was much that anyone could do about it, though the mother had wanted to see her son, according to Siobhan O’Riley, the junior pathologist who had shown Wendy and Christine Mason the man’s body before.
But with DNA and dental records, Barry had been identified conclusively.
Next day, in the office at Challis Street, the mood was more upbeat, although Wendy, more emotional than the others, was upset by the attitude of parents who should have cared, but didn’t. Amelia Bentham had phoned to let her know that she was with her parents and that she’d stay for a few more days. Christine Mason was busy pandering to her husband, a man she did not love, and the unpleasant manager at the Fitzroy Hotel had not heeded Wendy’s warning, and was becoming a nuisance. Wendy knew she’d have to deal with him in due course.
‘Larry, what do you have?’ Isaac asked. He noticed that his detective inspector had smartened himself up and that he was wearing a new suit. He made no comment, although Wendy and Bridget had. The conversation in his office, Isaac knew, had done the trick. He never felt comfortable giving warnings, preferring the conciliatory approach, the word in the ear, the gentle nudge, but with Larry, he had had to get serious.
‘Matilda Montgomery, late of 55 Pembridge Mews. I’ve checked her out,’ Larry said. ‘There’s a boyfriend from last year, although he said it wasn’t serious, and that he had liked her, but she was emotionally barren.’
‘What does that mean?’ Wendy asked.
‘You’ve been with her parents. I’d say it had something to do with them.’
‘Did he
