Devil in Disguise

ossibly he had a change of heart and opted to stay at home and wallow in alcohol and remorse.’

‘He doesn’t sound to me like the sort of man who would be prey to conscience,’ Juliet objected. ‘Besides, he’d got away with it, hadn’t he? He would never have been locked up for killing Luke. Why not just do a flit?’

‘Perhaps he couldn’t think of anywhere worth flitting to. The police can’t be certain, but they think he was alone in the flat that evening and that I was the first person to turn up the day after. The fact that I found the door and gate locked suggests that.’

Juliet’s eyes began to gleam. ‘Don’t tell me we’re confronted by a locked studio flat mystery? A mystery buff’s dream!’

‘I hate to disappoint you, but round here the bad guys don’t bother with icicles kept in vacuum flasks or blowpipes containing a poison unknown to Western science. When they want to settle a little difference of opinion about drugs or women, they rely on a Stanley knife in the ribs or a few rounds from a submachine-gun. Subtlety isn’t their strong point.’

‘This could be the exception that proves the rule,’ she insisted. ‘You’ve told me yourself that half your clients are out of work and claiming benefit. But every once in a while you act for someone different like the Kavanaugh trustees.’

‘Yeah, and look what’s been happening to them.’

She sighed. ‘Inge is heartbroken about Matthew.’

‘You said on the phone that she stayed with you for a couple of nights after Gary Cullinan was exposed.’

‘Yes. It seemed sensible f

story fan. Personally, I prefer poetry. I think Sylvia Plath is marvellous.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Harry decided that Melissa wouldn’t be an ideal choice as a fun companion on a desert island. Maybe Roy hadn’t simply been jealous of Ashley when he’d described her as being as neurotic as hell. ‘Can I interest you in an exchange of murders?’ he asked, nodding at the Highsmith book.

She glanced in Ashley’s direction and gave a high-pitched laugh. ‘There are times when I might be tempted. He lives in a world of his own, frankly. Do you know, he spent the whole of yesterday evening on the phone to some crime nut in Milwaukee, having promised faithfully to take me out for a slap-up meal? He’s obsessed. I don’t think anyone could blame me if I a

Whilst he was waiting, Harry mooched around the reception area. Glancing through the door into the Herman Melville Bar, he noticed Don Ragovoy talking to a young man who was polishing glasses, the one who had accompanied him to Luke’s funeral. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted a small swarthy man in a porter’s uniform carrying a couple of heavy suitcases. The badge on the man’s lapel said Julio. Moving as swiftly, for once, as in his footballing days, Harry intercepted the porter on his way to the goods lift.

‘Excuse me. I believe you spoke to a friend of mine, a Mr Whitaker, about the man who died here recently – Luke Dessaur.’

The man gave him a sullen look. ‘Listen, mister, I don’t want any more trouble. I had the police round asking questions after your friend came here.’

‘There’s not going to be any trouble. You gave my friend a lot of help. I simply wonder if you can remember anything else about the argument you overheard.’

The man shook his head vigorously. ‘Not a thing, mister. Not a thing.’

‘Was it a woman in Mr Dessaur’s room or another man?’

‘Listen, I tell your friend, I dunno.’

‘What time was it?’

‘Oh sure,’ Roy said lazily. ‘And don’t be fooled by that vague manner of his. Take it from me, he was always at least as horny as yours truly – but he always tended to fantasise rather than do anything about it. Not like me at all in that respect. I suppose you could say he’s much more patient. Married to Melissa, I bet he’s had to be.’

‘Tell me more about Luke. Did he ever live with Mrs Whitaker?’

Roy shook his head. ‘Not likely. You knew the Dinosaur. Talk about Victorian values – but he was more strait-laced than most Victorians, if you ask me. He was just as bad as Melissa, he never subscribed to the permissive society. He would never have countenanced living in sin. Not even with Mrs Whitaker, much as he cared for her.’

‘Why didn’t they marry?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. My bet is that she wouldn’t have been averse to tying the knot again. She’d been devoted to Ashley’s father, but after a decent interval there was no reason why she shouldn’t try to find happiness elsewhere. The Dinosaur was a handsome devil in those days. She was a shade on the plump side, maybe, but that’s not the end of the world, is it?’ He grinned. ‘As a matter of fact, I quite fancied her myself. I was going through an older-woman phase at the time. Thank God it wore off, otherwise, I’d be necking with pensioners whilst I was still in my prime.’

The waiter took their orders for dessert and Harry found himself unable to resist a Rip Van Winkle mousse. In the conversational lull, an outlandish idea occurred to him.

‘I must admit I’m intrigued by the tie-up between Luke and Ashley. Frankly, if either of my godfathers was sitting in this restaurant, I wouldn’t recognise him. Yet Luke and Ashley saw a great deal of each other. I was wondering if the relationship might have been closer than anyone ever admitted. Is it possible’ – he paused – ‘is it possible that Luke was Ashley’s father?’

Roy stared at him. ‘Now you really are in the land of make-believe. Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘Just a thought. Do I gather that you’re not convinced? I realise there is no physical resemblance…’

‘Whereas, to judge from one or two photographs I’ve seen over the years, Ashley is the spitting image of his dad.’

‘Maybe I’m wrong, then.’

Roy grinned. ‘Detective fever. You’re trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t exist. Luke carried a torch for Ashley’s mum. He became genuinely fond of his godson. Their friendship was strong enough to survive the death of Mrs Whitaker. My guess is that, if anything, it brought them together. The Dinosaur found it hard to get close to people. Maybe he leaned on Ashley more than any of us realised.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I don’t suppose it’s a coincidence that when Luke finally snapped, Ashley was in Canada

Harry noticed Kim blush again and as Quentin made his way towards the exit, he asked, ‘What was all that about?’

‘Any chance of that drink?’

‘My God, is it as bad as that?’

She gave him a thin smile. ‘Not really.’

A couple of minutes later they had found the quietest corner of the room and Harry was savouring a pint of best. In the background, he could hear people grumbling about court delays and the cost of professional indemnity insurance. He said, ‘This is the last place I e

This eminently reasonable sentiment received loud applause, but Harry kept his hands upon his knees. The man who was complaining possessed a Jaguar, a house on the Wirral and a mistress with a taste for designer clothes. Harry did not doubt that the fellow was strapped for cash, but reckoned that neither the Lord Chancellor nor the clients were likely to shed any tears for him.

nnection with the meeting tonight.’

‘It is. You see, Luke’s told me that he’s unable to come. The first time he’s ever missed since he became chairman. I’m worried about him, Harry.’

He stared. ‘Why’s that?’

‘I think – he’s afraid of something.’

‘Afraid?’

Harry did not try to hide his incredulity. Could she be joking? Her earnest face gave no hint of it: no smile, no twinkle in the deep-set eyes. She was leaning forward, chin cradled in her hands, elbows touching her overflowing in-tray. Her whole body was rigid and he could sense the tension in her shoulder blades, almost taste the dryness of her lips.

Yet the thought of the chairman of the Kavanaugh Trust experiencing fear was comic in its absurdity. In Luke’s presence, Harry always found himself fretting about the shine on his shoes or the length of his hair. Luke was the sort who had a fetish about punctuality and never took the minutes of the last trustees’ meeting as read. He was capable of great personal kindness, but Harry had never heard him split an infinitive and suspected that he would rather face torture than surrender the crease in his trousers. What could perturb such a man – other than, perhaps, the prospect of having to act on Harry’s advice?

‘What exactly is the problem?’

Harry noticed a tear in the corner of Frances’s eye. Hot with embarrassment, he studied his palms whilst she dabbed at her face with a tissue.

‘I wish I knew. Last week he and I went to a rehearsal of a musical the Trust is subsidising. He seemed preoccupied, but then, he’s hardly an extrovert. After a quick drink, I left him in the bar having a chat with the producer. I had to be up early for a train trip to Londo