Frowning, he gestured to one of the two chairs in front of the desk. He would, Barbara knew, never take a seat himself while she was standing. His sodding lordship was too infinitely well bred for that. If he sat, he’d be struck by lightning. A meteor would fly through the office window and obliterate him. The hand of God would pinch off his head. Not that she would mind that last one. Or, really, any of the others.
He said, “I’m not certain what you’re talking about, Barbara.”
“Bugger that for a lark. You’re not only ‘certain,’ you’re about to be chuffed straight out of your mind. And that’s what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?”
He said nothing. She wanted to pull out his eyeballs with her fingernails.
“Stupid me,” she said. “I took it seriously. I actually thought . . . But we both know I’ve got bubbles for brains, eh? And you . . . You couldn’t stay out of my life, could you? You couldn’t stand to pass by a chance to play me for the complete fool that I am.”
He cocked his head and Barbara saw his eyes go quite dark. His lips parted, he let out a breath upon which she thought she heard him say, “Good Christ.”
So she said, “Yeah. That’s it. Good Christ. And let me tell you, it worked such a trick it would’ve got him down off the Cross just to listen in. You understand that?”
“Listen in to what? Barbara, I’m—”
“I rang him, all right? I thanked him. I made a loon-job of myself and it’s down to you that I did it. It’s. Down. To. You. The note? Oh, that was a brilliant touch. And you knew just enough—didn’t you—to use the right words.”
He lowered his head. He put the tips of his fingers on his desk. He said, “You might want to close the door, Barbara, if we’re going to have this conversation.”
“Oh, we’re bloody well having this conversation, Inspector Lynley, and I don’t care who hears what I’ve got to say. Because if you think from your high, mighty, and silver-spooned mouth you can possibly produce words to excuse yourself for invading other people’s lives and playing puppet master to watch everyone—like me, like miserable little me—dance to your tune, you’re—”
“Mixing your metaphors,” he said.
“Shut up! I don’t care! I’ll mix my metaphors and be happy as the dickens to shove them straight up your—”
“Guv?”
Barbara swung round. Nkata stood there. “Leave us alone!” she shrieked. “If you’re trying to make all of this go away, try something else. It’s not going away. It’s never going away. This isn’t the first time but I swear to God it’s going to be the last because—”
“Not that.” Nkata held up his hands—palms towards her—to stop her words. “We finally got it on film,” he said. And then to Lynley, “We got Mercy and Teo Bontempi on CCTV footage, guv. Not jus’ once but twice. In Kingsland High Street. She’s in African dress like before, Teo is, so there’s no doubting it’s Teo.”
_
CHELSEA
CENTRAL LONDON
Sophie made good time to Chelsea. And unlike him, she didn’t walk into the house with eyes the size of Frisbees. She probably knew baskets of people who lived in houses like this one, Tani reckoned. Her parents’ lives were way far different to the lives of his own parents, different to his life as well, so when Mr. Cotter opened the door to her, what she said had to do with the dog who dashed out on the front step doing what she apparently always did: barking, sniffing, barking, and turning circles until Sophie finally took note of her.
“What’s your name?” she asked Peach, quite as if the dog could answer her. “You rule the roost here, I expect.”
“She does, that.” Joseph Cotter was the one to answer. He’d not been willing to open the door until Simi had dashed above stairs and Tani ducked into the study, determined to stay out of sight. But Tani came out at once when he heard Sophie’s voice.
She was extending her hand to Mr. Cotter, and she gave her name and identified herself as “Tani’s friend Sophie Franklin.”
Hearing her voice, Simi dashed down the stairs, crying out, “It’s Sophie! Sophie!” as she ran to her and threw her arms round her waist.
Mr. Cotter said, “Best come in,” as Tani reached her side and kissed her. Then he did that English white person thing, did Cotter. He offered tea.
So far the day was working out.