‘So might I,’ Isaac said.
Ignoring Isaac’s flippancy, Ashley continued, ‘I’ve not got anything. I was dangling the bait, seeing if I could get a nibble.’
‘Did you?’
‘Jaden brushed me off, treated me as a junior.’
‘A hit to your ego?’
‘You’re trying to rile me. It’s not going to work. Get me another glass of wine, assuming your sixty-five thousand can afford it, and I’ll tell you what I know.’
‘Expenses,’ Isaac said, and the two of them laughed.
Ashley drank from her second glass of wine; Isaac sipped at his first. Around them, the diners were coming and going, while outside, the weather looked gloomier by the minute.
A waiter came over. ‘Dessert?’ he said.
Isaac flashed his warrant card. He knew the waiter was trying to hurry them up, get them out, and lay the table for the next diners.
Taking the hint, the waiter said nothing, only moved away. Ashley caught his eye. ‘Ice cream, a glass of cognac.’
‘I didn’t know you were a drinker,’ Isaac said.
‘I’m not, but you’re on expenses. No point holding back.’
Isaac couldn’t remember her as a drinker back when they had dated, but then she had been idealistic, conscious of her figure, uncorrupted by life. She had changed, more than he had. If his memory was correct, he preferred the younger Ashley to the woman sitting across from him.
‘What do you know?’ Isaac asked after she had her ice cream and cognac.
‘Not sure it’s going to help your enquiries, but Bob Babbage has another job offer, just in case.’
‘Seems logical, protecting himself if the new programme doesn’t work out.’
‘It won’t.’
‘How can you be so certain?’
‘It may be everything that Jaden says, and Tricia a surprise to all of us if she makes a good job of it, the ratings shoot up, and it’s a spectacular success. But it won’t make a difference, not in the long run, not even in the short.’
‘Why?’
‘When was the last time you watched television?’
‘I never did, not even as a child.’
‘You’re the exception. It’s to do with the numbers. Fewer viewers, less advertising revenue, more money spent on promoting the programmes. Television stations are passé, the same as newspapers. Either they find a way to make a profit, or they’re dead in the water, and Jaden knows this, the last throw of the dice for a desperate man.’
‘How do you know this?’
‘A little sniffing around, contacts of mine.’
‘Tom Taylor?’
‘Smart, fancies himself and anything in a skirt. He’s currently squiring Jaden’s niece, and he’s got another on the side, not that she’d know about it. Pretty little thing, not much between the ears, although that’s not where his interest in her lies. No different to you in that respect.’
Isaac remembered their last conversation before they broke up, a phone call late at night, her accusing him of playing the field, sleeping with her friend. Much to his chagrin, she had been right. In his twenties, a young man, athletic, strong and muscular, attractive to women, he had misbehaved, the prerogative of youth.
And now, he had changed, changed for the better, but had she? He wasn’t so sure, but whether she had or not, it didn’t concern him. The past was where it belonged; the present was better.
‘This other woman? Important?’
‘Taylor’s got no power, too young to tie his shoelaces, let alone put one over on Jaden. The sweet Alison may be in love, but she’s not that bright, and if Jaden finds out that her boyfriend is putting it about, he’ll be for the chop.’
‘Babbage, any dirt on him?’
‘Not that I’ve heard. He’s a bastard, but then lawyers are.’
‘What about you, married, living with someone?’ Isaac asked.
‘No one serious. Don’t say you still fancy me?’
‘My days of chasing wanton females are over.’
‘And I was wanton?’
‘Ashley, you were, and you know it.’
‘It was fun. Not like now, not with murder and Jerome Jaden, newspaper editors and sleazy politicians.’
‘Welcome to the human race, warts and all,’ Isaac said.
Chapter 13
Kate Hampton’s increasingly close involvement with some of the investigation's key players warranted her being called into Challis Street Police Station. Distinctly irritated, angry that the focus was on her, she sat in the interview room, a sullen look on her face.
‘Mrs Hampton,’ Isaac said, ‘we need to know the relationship between you and your husband.’
‘Is this important? Neither of us was there when Angus died, and my husband’s hardly Mr Action Man.’
‘We’re not accusing,’ Wendy said. ‘Just trying to get to the truth, to find out who would have had a motive, nothing more.’
‘Well, it wasn’t me.’
‘We’ve not said it was. There’s no need for hostility,’ Isaac said.
‘Very well, what do you want? I don’t have all day.’
‘Where do you have to be, that’s so important?’ Wendy asked.
‘I don’t see that it’s any of your business, so why should I tell you?’
‘Mrs Hampton, this attitude of yours is counter-productive and raises suspicion,’ Isaac said.
‘We have reason to believe that your husband’s accusation that Angus Simmons was having an affair with you at the time of his accident was incorrect,’ Wendy said.
‘I’ve already stated that.’
‘And that,’ Wendy continued, ‘you were sleeping with Justin Skinner.’
‘Who said this? Justin? I wouldn’t be surprised if it were, but I wouldn’t.’
‘Wouldn’t you? Why not?’ Isaac said.
Kate Hampton was fidgeting on her seat, rubbing her right forearm with her left hand. Her body language was not right, and her eyes were moving around the room, not looking directly across the table.
‘Because I wouldn’t. Isn’t that good enough?’
‘Unfortunately, it’s not. If your husband believed it was Angus you were sleeping with, that would explain your husband’s behaviour in Patagonia, the reason he quarrelled with Simmons. Your lies could
