Peter Lovesey - The Headhunters

‘That’s a fact.’

As if she’d won the point, Gemma said, ‘But you haven’t even met her. You can call the police and they’ll accept it for what it is, a chance discovery.’

Jo wasn’t swallowing that. ‘What-and tell them I was here all the time when they checked the house? Tell them I left my work and drove you here? Does that sound like a chance discovery? To the police it’s going to smell like a set-up. I’m sorry, but I’m not doing it, Gem. After going through Saturday’s line-up, I’ve done more than my share of public duty.’

‘Line-up?’

‘The ID parade.’

Gemma frowned. ‘You didn’t say anything about an ID parade.’

‘Didn’t I? I was trying to forget, standing in front of strange blokes and being expected to pick one of them out.’

‘What for?’

‘The murder of the woman at Selsey. I’m supposed to be a witness. They think I could have seen the killer when I was walking along the beach.’

‘And did you? Did you spot him?’

‘Of course not. Look, this isn’t helping us now. We’ve found a body. I don’t want to report it and neither do you.’

Their presence on the bank and facing the water was starting to attract the swans. Some were swimming across from the opposite side expecting to be fed.

‘We can’t leave her here,’ Gemma said. ‘How would you like that if it was you?’

‘I wouldn’t know anything about it. I’d be dead.’ Jo took a deep breath and made an effort to sound calm. ‘I think we should get back in the car and drive off. Someone else is going to find her soon. People are always walking round this place. I’m surprised she wasn’t found already.’

‘You don’t know how long she’s been in the water.’

‘Agreed.’

‘It could have happened this afternoon.’

‘Even more reason why we don’t want anything to do with it.’

Then Gemma came up with her most stupid suggestion yet. ‘I could tell Francisco and ask him to call the police and leave us out of it.’

‘That’s dumb. You don’t even know him that well.’

‘He’s really helpful.’

‘Have you thought why? He could have done it.’

‘Francisco?’ Gemma pulled an appalled expression.

‘He’s the neighbour. He was on the spot. We don’t know if he had a relationship with her, or if he wanted one and was given the elbow.’

‘You’re making this up.’

Rich, coming from the queen of make-believe.

‘I’m trying to make you see sense. It’s stupid asking Francisco or anyone else to report what we found. It throws suspicion on us. He’ll think we’re hiding something. He could get the idea we killed her.’

‘I don’t buy this, Jo. I don’t buy it at all.’

‘But you don’t want to get involved, right?’

‘Only because it would look so bad for me.’

‘Me, too.’

The first swans arrived and glided between the body and the bank, ignoring the grim presence of death, intent only on getting fed. Others were converging fast.

Jo said, ‘Do you want out, or are we staying here in full view of all the curtain-twitchers?’

Without more being said, they turned from the scene and walked briskly back to the car. Jo started up and drove the short distance to the turning point at the sailing club. They were soon back on the A259 heading for Chichester.

Conscience was a third passenger sitting between them.

‘What about your boss?’ Jo said, trying to shake off the guilt. ‘Where does he fit into this?’

‘Mr Cartwright?’

‘He was last seen going off with Fiona on Friday and he hasn’t been at work since. Don’t you think he might have something to do with it?’

Gemma took a sharp breath. ‘Wow! You’re way ahead of me.’

For once, Jo was, and it gave satisfaction. ‘He’s the one with questions to answer, isn’t he?’

The accident theory slipped out of the reckoning and Gemma was only too ready to speculate. ‘Maybe she overplayed her hand with him and demanded too much, like… like a share of the firm’s profits. He wasn’t having it and got rid of her.’

‘Is he the violent type?’

‘I’ve never thought of him like that.’

‘I know. You said he was nice, but there’s obviously a selfish side to him. Even the so-called nice ones have a snapping point.’

‘Dead right. All his schmoozing never impressed me. I’ve often wondered what would happen if push came to shove.’

‘Ho-hum.’

‘It’s an expression.’

‘I know. Fiona got the push.’

‘Don’t! I’m starting to believe this. Where is he now?’

‘Gone abroad, I should think.’ For a change it was Jo who embroidered the theory. ‘He’d want to put some distance between himself and the crime. He knows she’ll be found in the Mill Pond and he’ll hope it’s seen as an accident, something like we assumed when we saw her. He’ll have kidded himself nobody knows about the affair with her.’

‘He’s wrong about that.’

‘Yes, but we’re not saying anything yet.’ She was surprising herself by finding extra strength while Gemma’s confidence ebbed. ‘Let’s see how this pans out. Soon enough you’ll have the fuzz crawling all over your office. When they start asking questions that’s the time to let them know what you noticed. Not before. Don’t volunteer anything.’

‘You’re bloody good in a crisis.’

‘Trying to be sensible, that’s all. Do you want me to drop you at the print works?’

‘I need a drink to steady me.’

‘All right. Let’s find a quiet pub.’

They called at the Cricketers on the Chichester Road and had the public bar all to themselves. Gemma ordered a gin and tonic. Jo was content with a lemonade and lime. She wanted to think straight.

‘Are you still seeing Rick?’

‘On and off. Well, yes, actually,’ Gemma said.

‘It wouldn’t be such a good idea to tell him-or anyone else- about this afternoon. Let’s have a pact, shall we? What we saw in the Mill Pond is strictly between ourselves.’

‘It didn’t happen,’ Gemma said. ‘Erased, deleted, wiped.’ She took a gulp of her gin and tonic as if to speed the process. ‘Have you been out with Jake yet?’

‘I had a drink with him Saturday night.’

‘I don’t get it-you and him. You’re poles apart.’

‘Attraction of opposites.’

‘If you say so.’ Gemma rotated the lemon and ice in her drink. ‘Not like Rick and me. We’re two of a kind, really. Funny.’

‘What is?’

‘Remember when the four of us were talking in Chicago Rock about my boss, dreaming up ways to get rid of him? The Headhunters. Wasn’t it Rick who suggested the best way was to get him a life sentence?’

‘No,’ Jo said. ‘It was you.’

‘Me?’

‘Rick was going on about gruesome methods of making people disappear altogether.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘The idea of stitching up Mr Cartwright was yours. You thought of it in Starbucks. There were just the two of us. I distinctly remember you saying it.’

Gemma’s eyes widened. ‘With a memory like that, you should be on Mastermind. And now you’ve said it, I can remember something else. It was you who said we’d need a body to get a conviction.’

Jo cast her thoughts back. ‘True. And now we’ve got one.’

‘Weird.’

‘Bit of a coincidence, certainly.’

‘I’d say it’s creepy. The stitch-up could really happen if Mr Cartwright gets pulled in for murdering Fiona. He could be banged up for life.’ Her mouth curved upward. ‘I’ll be leading the cheers.’

‘Hold on,’ Jo said. ‘You’re racing ahead again. We don’t have any reason to think she was murdered. I thought we decided it was an accident.’