the story about everything being wiped. Who’s going to contradict them? Look, it’s speculation, I admit, but I really think police are involved-criminally. Of course, I could be quite wrong. I’ll have to work harder on my police informant.’
He’d finished his drink and was standing there, all 160 centimetres of him, in his neat suit. I decided I didn’t like him much.
‘Tell me this,’ I said. ‘Is your main interest in who killed Lily, or in your theoretical blackmailing cop?’
‘And in what he had to sell, you should add.’
Still the smartarse. ‘Consider it added.’
‘I’m interested in all of it, Mr Hardy, but it’s complicated and dangerous and difficult. That’s why I need your help.’
I thought about the proposition as I stood there with the party going on noisily behind me and the boats below starting to head for home as dark clouds gathered overhead and the wind sprang up. Lily had advised Tony against building a McMansion somewhere and recommended buying this place instead. We were here because of her in two ways and I was missing her in every way. Finding who had killed her wouldn’t bring her back of course, but looking would keep me in touch with her in a way, while doing what I did best.
‘You’ve got my interest,’ I said.
‘Good. When you think about it, apart from the stuff I’ve told you, is there anything that strikes you as odd about the police behaviour to date?’
‘Yeah. I can account for my movements in the early part of the night but not after that. I thought they might have been a bit tougher on me.’
‘You had someone to alibi you? Did they question him?’
‘Her. A woman I play pool with at my local. I don’t know. I just assumed it.’
‘That’s one starting point, then. You should ask her if they got onto her and how hard they pushed.’
‘Okay. What other starting points are there?’
‘The senior investigator, Inspector Vincent Gregory. Your mate Parker should be able to tell you something about him.’
‘What about your informant of undisclosed gender?’
‘I’m sorry about that. Must’ve sounded like a prick. I didn’t know how much to tell you until I got your reaction. It’s a woman, Constable Jane Farrow-very junior, very concerned.’
‘Why’s she talking to you?’
‘D’you want another drink?’
‘No. C’mon, let’s get this straight.’
‘I met her at a party three weeks ago. Turns out she likes small men. Gregory is also a small man and she liked him, too. Not as much as before.’
‘Before you?’
‘Yeah, but more so since the investigation into Lily’s murder.’
The light dropped as the clouds moved west and blocked out the weakening rays of the sun. In a way, against what I’d been feeling just before this latest titbit of information, I wanted to get clear of Townsend, the house, the city, the country if need be. Use up some frequent flier points and get as far away as… where? Norfolk Island? Lord Howe? Wouldn’t help.
‘Has she told you who the IT guy is?’
‘No, but she might.’
‘What happened to DS Williams? I thought he was in charge. He’s the one who talked to me initially.’
‘Apparently he’s out of the picture. There’s your next starting point.’
I still didn’t like his one-upping style. He was dedicated but quite what to was hard to say. I agreed to work with him as best I could-finding out about Gregory, having a talk to Williams, while he got what he could from Constable Farrow. We exchanged numbers and agreed to stay in touch. I was sure he was holding something back but so was I. Lily had used my computer from time to time, and recently. And she’d always carried a thumb drive with her.
I had a few words with various people as I made my way out and found Tony sitting by himself, staring at his orange juice. He was stone cold sober, so the drink was exactly what it seemed.
‘She was so good to me, Cliff. Always there, even when I was doing fucking stupid things.’
‘I know.’
‘I can’t believe she’s gone. It just doesn’t seem right.’
‘It isn’t.’
‘I’ve been thinking. You’re a detective, right? I’ve phoned the cops a couple of times but they don’t tell me anything. Maybe you can find out
‘I’m on it already, Tony. I’ll let you know how it goes and I know I can call on you if I need any help.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. You bet.’
The party was winding down but a mob of stayers was settling in. Coffee was being served and I stopped to get some and eat two more sandwiches, thinking that after a bit of a walk I’d be okay to drive. As I was finishing the coffee a middle-aged man approached me.
‘Mr Hardy, I’m Patrick Henke.’
We shook hands. ‘I seem to know the name,’ I said.
‘Ms Truscott’s solicitor.’
‘Right.’
‘This is a terrible thing, terrible. Such a… such a very able woman.’
‘Yes, well…’
‘She mentioned you a few times over the past couple of years as I handled some things for her. I’ll be sending you a formal letter, but since you’re here it seems appropriate to tell you now. Ms Truscott’s will divides her estate, which consists of a considerable number of very solid shares and her house in Greenwich, between her brother Anthony and yourself.’
I walked the Hunters Hill streets for over an hour without knowing where I was or where I was going. I was stunned by what Henke had told me. It made me rethink my relationship with Lily. It had seemed to me to be equally loose and open-ended on both sides. But perhaps it wasn’t. I’d never given a thought to leaving anything in my will to anyone other than my daughter Megan. All it’d amount to was the Glebe house. That was worth a fair amount even in its neglected state, but I wasn’t planning to shuffle off for quite some time. Lily would have thought the same, but she’d made a different decision.
I wondered if Henke had told Tony. Probably not, given Tony’s fragile state. I wondered how he’d take it.
Why hadn’t she told me? Was she waiting for me to say something along the lines of putting our relationship on a different footing? It made me wish we’d talked more about ‘us’, something we almost never did, as if we were both afraid that to talk about it would spoil it. And now it was spoilt well and truly. Again, I felt guilty: I hadn’t paid proper attention to her work, and now it seemed I hadn’t paid proper attention to her feelings.
But one thing was for sure: licence or no licence, I was going to give the investigation into who killed her everything I had.
5
I got home late, tired and depressed. There were a few messages on the answering machine-one from the bank about my MasterCard, a couple of condolences. Hilde Stoner had rung to apologise for Frank and her not making it to the funeral. They liked Lily a lot and had wanted to be there, but there was some kind of crisis with their son Peter, who was aid-working in Asia with his wife and their infant twin girls. Hilde and Frank were waiting on a phone call. Understandable.
I went upstairs, looked at the computer but couldn’t find the motivation to turn it on. Not now. I opened the
