Nicci French - Until it's Over

‘What about you, Dario?’ said Leah, triumphantly.

The scene would have been comic if it hadn’t been so horribly embarrassing, with Leah turning the screw of humiliation tighter and tighter. Dario’s face had gone a fierce red. ‘Leah, I dunno, I…’ He stammered to a halt.

‘Dario, what’s the problem?’ asked Leah, brightly.

Miles flicked me an anxious glance, then flicked it away when he saw the expression on my face.

‘I need to be given a bit of time,’ Dario said. ‘It’s complicated. I’ve got to -’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ said Leah, got up and walked out of the room. We heard the sound of footsteps making their way loudly up the stairs. People exchanged puzzled glances around the table.

‘This isn’t typical,’ said Davy to Kamsky. ‘We usually get on quite well. There’ve been some personality clashes.’

‘You can say that again,’ said Dario.

There was another rattle of footsteps on the stairs, and a visible flinching as everyone waited for the tornado to arrive. Leah strode in. ‘This is from Dario’s room,’ she said, tossing something on to the middle of the table.

You could see the blood leaving Dario’s face, as if someone had pulled a plug. On the table was a small transparent polythene bag with something brown inside.

‘Dario has gone all shy,’ said Leah, ‘because shortly before Margaret Farrell died – very shortly – he was out on the front step with someone as yet to be contacted, doing one of his little dope deals.’

There was a terrible, terrible silence around the table. I’d already called her a cunt, so there was nothing left to say to her. I might have been tempted to hit her but a detective was present. I looked around the table at the shocked faces. I have a phobia about silences. Whenever one occurs, I have to break it. I looked at Leah. ‘Is that your plan?’ I said. ‘If you can get Dario arrested, you won’t have to pay him off?’

‘Grow up, Astrid,’ she said.

‘What did you say?’

Kamsky leaned over, picked up the bag and tossed it to Dario. ‘Try not to use too much of this stuff,’ he said. ‘It’s not just that it’s bad for you. People who smoke it become so boring. Look, I’m conducting a murder inquiry. If you’re dealing a bit of cannabis, I don’t care.’ He looked at Pippa. ‘If you’re sleeping with your best friend’s husband, I don’t care. What you need to do is come forward. If you know any witnesses, tell them to come forward as well.’ Kamsky stood up. ‘But not to me. This isn’t my inquiry. Tell them to contact DI Mitchell.’ He looked at me with a smile. ‘I suppose Miss Bell can give you his number.’

‘Won’t you stay for dinner?’ asked Pippa.

Was Pippa going to start hitting on him as well? Was there no limit? Was nothing sacred? But he smiled and shook his head. ‘You’re a lawyer?’ he said to Pippa.

‘That’s right.’

‘It sounds like this household could do with one.’

And with that he went and left us to it.

No one spoke. I could hear the cars in the street outside, the house’s ancient pipes grumbling, a blackbird chirruping in the garden. I could hear Dario breathing heavily. Leah’s painted nails tapped rhythmically on the table. I looked up at her: her face was smooth, unconcerned. I looked at Miles, but he was staring down at his hands, which were plaited together on his lap, and I couldn’t make out his expression.

At last Davy coughed nervously and spoke. ‘That was pretty clear,’ he said, ‘and no real harm done, eh, Dario?’ His voice trailed away.

Dario twisted his head. ‘What?’ he said. He sounded dazed. ‘No harm?’

‘I mean -’

‘Shut up, will you, Davy?’ interrupted Pippa. She put a hand on Dario’s shoulder and looked across at Leah. Even I was alarmed at the icy rage in her eyes. Leah, however, didn’t flinch. ‘It’s pretty clear, don’t you think,’ Pippa continued, ‘that Leah’s behaviour was unacceptable to the entire household?’

‘Who wants some whisky?’ asked Owen. ‘I do. Or I could do with some of Dario’s dope. Do you want to roll a joint, Dario?’

‘Unacceptable?’ said Dario, finding his voice. ‘That’s not the word I’d use. I’d say -’

‘I don’t think I should be here for this,’ said Mel, in a small voice. ‘It’s private, between you lot.’

‘Stay.’ Davy wrapped his arm round her to prevent her moving.

‘I’d say,’ went on Dario, his voice growing stronger, ‘that she’s poison. Poison. Everything was all right before she came. We were happy. She’s like a nasty, toxic stain seeping over everything.’

‘Miles?’ said Pippa. ‘Are you going to say anything?’

Miles shifted uncomfortably, still not lifting his head. ‘What do you want me to say? It’s very unfortunate but -’

‘Do you really think everything was all right before I came on the scene?’ said Leah. Her eyes were bright. I wondered if she was almost enjoying herself.

‘Don’t ask her what she means,’ I was starting to say, but Davy got there first.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘Well, look at you all,’ said Leah. ‘There’s you, Dario. How old are you? Thirty? Older? You don’t have a job. You don’t have a relationship. You don’t have any ambitions. As far as I know, you have no real qualifications, except for being a petty criminal, and you’re not even very good at that.’

Dario spluttered and his freckled face turned an unlovely red.

‘Then there’s Mick.’ She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Would you describe him as a fully functional member of society?’

‘Leave Mick out of it,’ said Davy, unexpectedly assertive. ‘He’s not here to answer back.’

You, then, Davy. What’s the point of you?’

‘That’s not fair,’ said Mel, her face flushing.

‘And look at Astrid.’

‘Look at me instead,’ said Owen, and she swung her gaze to him. I saw their eyes locked and for a moment her expression grew speculative. Leah loved beautiful things. ‘And now listen,’ he continued.

‘I’m listening.’ She folded her arms.

‘You’re a bully and you’re not welcome here.’

‘I don’t think that’s for you to say, is it?’

‘You’re not welcome.’

‘Miles?’ said Pippa. ‘Are you just going to sit there?’

‘I only want…’ he started miserably, but stopped as Mick came into the room, still in his jacket, eating fish and chips out of a brown-paper bag.

‘You are, aren’t you?’ Pippa continued. ‘Right, speaking as a lawyer, I’d like to say this first. Negotiations are off.’

‘What?’ asked Mick, a chip half-way to his open mouth, his eyes bulging.

‘Off,’ said Dario, banging his fist on the table. ‘Yup. Off.’

‘Have I missed something?’ said Mick.

‘Pippa,’ said Miles, pleadingly, ‘don’t react like this. We had an agreement and it was in everyone’s interests.’

‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about,’ said Leah, calmly. ‘I told the detective chief inspector what he needed to know. This is a murder inquiry, you know, and you’re all behaving as if you’re sitting at the back of a classroom. You’re not at school, guys – this is real life.’

This was uncomfortably close to my own attitude. And she wasn’t entirely wrong about Dario. And I sometimes felt as if Mick and Davy were people I’d run into on a railway platform while they were waiting to change trains. I thought I ought to say something but couldn’t think exactly what. My contribution wasn’t missed, though. Dario was angrily shouting that he wouldn’t continue with his work on the house.

‘I don’t think that’s a great loss,’ said Leah.