Gemma spent the first part of Thursday morning reviewing the reports that had come back from computer forensics. There was no evidence, either in E-mail or personal files, that Karl Arrowood had intended to murder his wife- or that he had suspected her affair or her pregnancy.
Nor was there any evidence that Dawn had used the computer at all, which Gemma found interesting, but not surprising, considering Dawn's carefulness in other matters.
Unfortunately, they had not begun the investigation looking for financial discrepancies in Karl Arrowood's accounts, and she would now have to ask the computer team to go over everything once again. They would also have to look at his business computers, which she expected he would not take kindly.
'If what Otto says is true, that Arrowood sells drugs,' Melody said thoughtfully, 'mightn't Dawn's death be a professional matter? An irate customer? A dissatisfied partner?'
Gemma had requested that Melody go to Arrowood's shop with her as backup, first having made sure that Sergeant Franks was well buried in paperwork. 'But in that case, where does Marianne Hoffman come in?' she countered.
'There is that,' Melody agreed. 'What about the blood work, then? Any progress there?'
'Not yet. Christmas slowdown at the Home Office. I've nagged them again.' Gemma found a parking spot on Kensington Park Road, across the street from Arrowood Antiques. The shop was unobtrusively elegant, blending easily into the residences situated opposite the classical town houses of Stanley Gardens.
From the window dressing alone it was apparent the shop served an equally elegant clientele. As they entered, the door chimed melodiously and Gemma's feet sank into the plush pile of a Wilton carpet. The front room was small, holding a few choice pieces of antique furniture, objets d'art, lamps, and ornately framed watercolors, but other equally rich rooms opened out from it.
A woman- blond, middle-aged, perfectly coiffed and manicured- sat at a writing desk in view of the door. She gave Gemma a half-wattage smile. 'May I help you?' she asked, and Gemma heard the unvoiced 'Not that's there's anything here you can afford.'
Gemma had to agree- if the lack of price tags was any indication. 'Is Mr. Arrowood in?' she asked, and saw the flick of the woman's glance towards the back of the shop.
'He's just stepped ou-'
'I think he'll see us.'
The woman's smile disappeared altogether at the sight of Gemma's identification. 'Just a moment, please.'
They waited only a few minutes before Karl Arrowood appeared, as immaculately groomed and suited as she had seen him at his wife's funeral. 'Inspector James, and Constable Talbot, is it? What can I do for you?'
'We'd like a word with you, Mr. Arrowood. Your office?'
He took them into the back without demur, seating himself behind a polished, claw-footed desk and motioning them to plush-covered chairs. 'I take it you haven't come to tell me you've found my wife's murderer?'
Gemma ignored the question. 'Since we spoke last, Mr. Arrowood, it's come to our attention that some of your profits may come from areas other than antiques.'
His gaze remained unwavering, slightly amused; his hands rested casually on his blotter. 'I've no idea what you're talking about, Inspector.'
'Drugs. According to our sources, you've long-standing connections with drug trafficking in the area.'
The amusement grew stronger. 'Sources? And what exactly are these sources? Comic books? I might be angry if I could take you seriously, Inspector.' The gray eyes now held an unmistakable glint of steel. 'However, I would remind you that I have a successful business here, and I would not appreciate having my reputation damaged among my customers.'
'Good.' Gemma smiled. 'Then you have everything to gain by cooperating fully. It's not my job to follow up these allegations. I'm only interested in what bearing this new information may have on your wife's death. Could one of your customers, or your suppliers, have attacked her because of some grudge against you?'
'This is an absurd fantasy.' His hands tightened, and Gemma saw him make an effort to relax them. 'Which you are obviously indulging to mask your own incompetence. I'm not going to continue this discussion without a solicitor.'
'You don't have to. I do have a warrant for our technicians to have a look at your office computers, however- I hope that won't be too much of an inconvenience.' She glanced at her watch. 'They should be here any minute.'
'You can't do that!' He gripped his desk, no longer bothering to control his anger.
'I'm afraid I can.' Gemma stood, followed by Melody. 'Mr. Arrowood, did your wife know about your activities?'
'I've told you, there was nothing for her to know.'
'And your sons, do they know? Surely you don't supply your own son with cocaine?' she asked. Kincaid had told her what he suspected about Richard Arrowood's drug habit, and she was inclined to agree.
'My son? What the devil are you talking about?'
'Didn't Richard come to you for a loan to pay off his drug debts?'
'Richard? Yes, he came to me for money, but he always needs money. I don't believe-'
'What did he tell you, when he came to you a few weeks ago?'
'Investments. He said he'd made a bad investment at work. He needed to recover the damages before it came to light.'
'And you refused him?'
'Of course I refused him. He'll never make anything of himself if he doesn't learn to deal with his own mistakes.'
A good theory, thought Gemma. Unfortunately, she suspected Richard Arrowood was long past benefiting from it.
Kincaid had left several messages on Eliza Goddard's answering machine, asking her to ring him back, but she had not. He urgently needed to see Marianne Hoffman's papers again, and he hoped that persuasion would be enough to convince Eliza to turn over her mother's things. If his attempt failed, however, he'd have to issue a warrant for the collection of the items.
But first, he had one more avenue to explore. He drove to Islington, leaving the car near the twisting alleyways of Camden Passage. Here, Marianne Hoffman's body had been found slumped against the door of her shop, two months earlier.
They had interviewed all the nearby shopkeepers and residents, but Kincaid remembered that the man who owned the shop next door to Hoffman's had been a particular friend. It took him a moment to pinpoint the exact
