Michael Ridpath - Free To Trade

'So, you have lived here with Debbie since you both came to London?' I asked.

'Oh no,' answered Felicity. 'When we first moved down here, we rented a flat in Earls Court. Well, it really wasn't much more than one bedroom. But a couple of years ago, we bought this place jointly. It's a bit noisy, but you get used to it.'

'You and Debbie must have been very close,' I said.

'I suppose we were,' said Felicity. 'She was a very easy person to live with and we had some good laughs together. But in a way she was a very private person. So am I, come to think of it. I think that's why we got on together. We liked living with each other, but respected each other's privacy.'

'I hope you don't mind me asking this,' I said, 'but I think I met someone the other day who might have been a boyfriend of Debbie's. He was thin, mid-thirties, blue eyes, dark hair?'

Felicity thought for a moment. 'Yes, there was one who fits that description. She had an affair with him last year some time. It didn't last long. I really didn't like him at all. I remember the way he used to look at me.' She shuddered.

That must have been the man on the boat. 'What was his name?' I asked.

Felicity screwed up her face in an effort to remember. 'No. Sorry. I know she met him through work somehow or other. He was a nasty piece of work. Charming at first. But very soon he was ordering Debbie about. At breakfast it was embarrassing to watch. And Debbie did everything he asked! It was very odd. You know Debbie, she was hardly your average meek house slave. This man did exude a sort of violent power. Debbie found it fascinating. It scared me.

'Then one evening I came home at about ten o'clock to find Debbie in a terrible state. She had a big bruise on her forehead and her eye was puffed up. She was sobbing quietly, as though she had been crying for a while.

'I asked her what had happened. She said that – oh, I wish I could remember his name. Anyway-whoever the bastard was had beaten her up. She had found out he was married and had confronted him with it. He had hit her and walked out.

'Over the next few days this man would telephone or come round in person. Debbie never talked to him or let him in. She nearly gave in once or twice, but in the end she had too much common sense. We were both scared. I certainly didn't want to have anything to do with him and we were both frightened in case he was waiting outside our flat to follow us when we went out. I think he did once follow Debbie, but she screamed and he slunk off. After a week or so, he gave up calling and we didn't see any more of him.'

Until the other night on the boat, I thought. It seemed to me more likely than ever that this was the man who had pushed Debbie into the river. I wondered how I could find out who he was. 'You can't remember anything more about him. Where he lived, what he did, who he worked for?'

'I'm sorry. That was one of the main areas in which we respected each other's privacy. I would occasionally bump into Debbie's boyfriends, but she rarely talked about them. And I did my best to avoid him.'

'It wasn't the same man you mentioned at the funeral? The one who was bothering her lately.'

'No, no. It wasn't him. He wasn't quite so scary. Although he was a bit weird perhaps. Oh, I've remembered his name, by the way. It was Rob.'

Rob! Incredible! I had never noticed anything between him and Debbie. They seemed to treat each other perfectly naturally. Still, if you thought about it, it wasn't so surprising. In a way, it was inevitable that Rob would make a play for Debbie at some time.

Felicity had noticed my initial surprise. 'Of course, you must know him. You obviously didn't know about it.'

I shook my head.

'Well, they went out together just after Debbie joined De Jong & Co. It only lasted a couple of months or so, and then Debbie called it off. She said it was getting a bit heavy. Rob took it badly for a bit, but after a while Debbie said they could treat each other normally at work.'

Felicity took another sip of wine. 'Then, about a week before Debbie…' Felicity paused, 'fell into the river, this bloke rang up. It was late, just after midnight, I think. He said they should get back together again. He said they should get married. Debbie just told him not to be so silly, but he kept on ringing night after night. It began to get to Debbie. She told him to piss off but it didn't seem to have any effect.'

'But why did he suddenly decide he wanted to marry her?' I asked. 'It sounds a bit odd.'

'Yes. As I said, a bit weird. Debbie said this guy was like that. Isn't he?'

I nodded. I had to admit Rob was like that. 'I still don't quite understand why Rob waited until now.'

'He was jealous. At least that is what Debbie said.'

'Jealous? Of whom?'

'I don't know. Debbie said she was getting interested in someone else at work, and Rob didn't like it. He was getting possessive and it annoyed her.'

For a second I cast around thinking who Debbie could have been talking about. But there could only be one person. Me.

I felt very foolish. The closening of our relationship must have been obvious to Debbie and even to Rob. But it was only just beginning to sink into my thick skull when she died.

The depression which had been stalking me wherever I went since then, enveloped me again. With Debbie had died an opportunity to break out of the strait-jacket of my life, the self-discipline, loneliness, hard work, dedication to a goal. She had offered irresponsibility, fun, easy companionship. And just as all that had been in my grasp, it had been pulled away. Pulled away by the thin man with the dead eyes.

I drained my glass and got up to leave.

'Thank you for bringing her things round,' said Felicity, nodding towards the box, 'I will be sure to pass them on to her parents.'

The box reminded me of Debbie's cluttered desk. And the prospectuses lying on it. I paused at the door. 'You haven't heard of someone called Irwin Piper, have you?'

'Yes, I think I have.' Felicity thought a moment. 'I am pretty sure Denny Clark was involved in defending him a few years ago. Why do you ask?'

'Oh, just something Debbie was working on before she died. I would like to tidy it up. Can you remember anything about the case?'

'No. I had nothing to do with it. But I think Debbie might have done. If it's important I could find out who was involved with it. Debbie must have been working with one of the partners.'

'That would be very helpful,' I said. 'I would love to talk to someone about it. It would make things a lot clearer.' I opened the door. 'Thank you very much for the wine.'

'Not at all. It's nice to have some company. You can spend too much time in this flat, alone.'

I said goodbye and let myself out.

I arrived home with my mind spinning. Part of it was the wine. Most of it was with the whirl of information I had received in the last few days. The last days of Debbie's life had been far from uneventful. Her row with Hamilton, her concerns about Piper and the Tahiti, and Rob of all people pestering her to marry him.

All this mingled with the jumble of feelings I felt towards her myself. It was only since her death that I was really getting to know her. I wished it were possible to talk to her about all I had found out. There was a lot we could talk about. If only that bastard hadn't killed her. I was more and more sure that her death was not an accident.

I pulled on my running kit and set off round the park. The wine in my stomach made it tough going, but I didn't care. I ran fast until it hurt and then I ran a bit more. I made it back to my flat shattered, had a bath and went to bed.

There were things I wanted to do at work the next morning, but it was difficult. With Debbie gone I had enough phone calls for two to answer. The markets were choppy. The Japanese were sellers because the dollar was weakening against the yen, but there had been some big buy programmes overnight from the States. This was the sort of market that presented plenty of opportunities for those who were quick enough on their feet. I found it hard to concentrate and missed all of them.