“Should I feel insulted? Or perhaps jealous of Wally?”
“Insulted, no. Jealous of Wally? Well, do just look at him, Tommy. Who could help telling him all one’s secrets?”
Wally raised his head, favoured them with a blank expression, and returned to his food.
Lynley chuckled. “He’s certain to be a dispassionate listener, isn’t he.”
“He’s no bleeding heart, that’s true enough. But really, when it comes to speaking of one’s troubles, is a bleeding heart actually necessary?”
Lynley kissed her. He brought his car keys from his trouser pocket. “I’m not foolish enough to answer that,” he told her.
WESTMINSTER
CENTRAL LONDON
He arrived at New Scotland Yard shortly after six, having showered, shaved, and changed his clothes at home as planned. He was at Barbara’s desk when she arrived at seven, followed closely by Winston. She, as usual, was dressed in the height of Havers Fashion: striped drawstring trousers, red high-top trainers, a T-shirt whose slogan was mercifully covered by the pink hoodie she wore. Nkata, as usual, was dressed to impress: blindingly white shirt and tie, suit coat held over his shoulder by his thumb.
Havers carried a Pop-Tart with several bites missing. She saw Lynley clock this over the tops of his reading specs. She also saw Nkata do likewise. She said, “Say nothing, you lot. Especially you, Winnie. I don’t have a mum whipping up . . . whatever your mum whips up in the morning cos I expect it’s extra-nutritious, perfectly balanced, and packed with vitamins. And you,” to Lynley, “what time did you roll in here?”
“Since I wasn’t sleeping it was a choice: walking the floor or coming in. Let’s have a look at her final days. I’ve been noodling over some information from her mobile.”
“And?” Havers leaned her hip against her desk, where Lynley still sat.
Nkata rolled out his desk chair and offered it to her. “I’m good, Winnie. Ta, though,” she said.
“Multiple calls and voice messages from her sister,” Lynley said. He rose from her desk chair, gesturing for her to sit. “Only a few returned. Multiple calls to her parents, one voice message from them.”
“Wha’s the nature of the messages?” Nkata said.
“From her parents, just of the sorry-we-missed-your-call variety. From her sister, it’s a bit different.”
“Meaning what?” Havers brought a packet of tissues from her large and lumpy shoulder bag. She used one as a napkin, wiping the remains of the Pop-Tart from her fingers and her lips.
“I’ve only listened to the most recent ones,” Lynley told them. “They’re messages asking to meet, wanting to talk, urging her—urging Teo, I mean—to tell him the truth.”
“Him being Ross Carver?” Havers asked.
“Could be. There’re four calls to him in the week before she was attacked.”
“He tol’ Barb she wanted him to come to her for a chat, innit?” Nkata said.
“She texted him, was what he said. Is there a record of that?”
“This corroborates it, yes. But it doesn’t eliminate him, as we all know. We’ve only his word that he found her, helped her to bed, and stayed with her till early morning.”
“Other calls?” Havers asked.
“To and from Orchid House, same from someone called Narissa Cameron.”
“She’s the woman making the documentary film at Orchid House,” Havers put in. “She showed me footage she’d taken of Teo as Adaku. She seemed fine to me, Narissa did. And Adaku—Teo, sorry—helped her with the girls, making them more comfortable with talking to the camera. Can’t think Narissa would’ve coshed her for that.”
“We got anything from Phinney?” Nkata asked.
Lynley said, “He did tell me to expect to see his relationship with Teo play out on her mobile. He wasn’t stretching the truth, by any means. Texts, calls, voice messages, videos, photos. He was besotted. So was she.”
“The usual I’ve-found-my-soul-mate bit?” Havers asked.
“More or less.”
“Such tosh,” she groused.
“Your day will come,” Lynley told her, and Nkata added, “？’Specially ’f Dee has anything to do with it.”
“Aside from the this-is-bigger-than-both-of-us rubbish,” Havers persisted, “？’s there anything interesting?”
“He continued to send her text messages after she went into hospital—”