Deborah Crombie - Where Memories Lie

Oliver righted himself, left the dog, and perched on the edge of a chair with smooth, curving, burnished wooden arms. Furniture design was not Kincaid's forte, but he guessed the chair was expensive, and original. "He'll be all right now," Oliver said, with a look at the dog. "Once he's out, he's out." As if in answer, Mo began to snore, and his owner looked at Gemma and frowned. "I don't understand. What were you doing at the salesroom yesterday, and why do you want to talk to me about Kristin?"

"Giles," said Gemma, "are you sure it was after I was there that Mr. Khan was upset with her?"

His face darkened. "Well, before…all this…I thought it might have been because of the roses. They came just after you left."

"Mrs. March said someone sent her roses. It wasn't you?"

"Are you kidding?" His laugh was bitter. "I just barely manage to pay the rent on this dump. There's no way I could afford flowers like that."

Priorities, Kincaid thought-Oliver apparently managed fine furniture and collector's vinyl on his pittance quite well.

"Do you know who did send the flowers?" asked Gemma.

Giles shook his head, tight lipped. "No."

Kincaid picked up the questioning, changing tack. "Did Kristin talk to you about the brooch?"

"What brooch?" Giles looked from Kincaid to Gemma.

"The Jakob Goldshtein diamond brooch," Gemma answered.

"Oh, that. She helped Mr. Khan catalog it. That's her job." Giles merely looked puzzled.

"She didn't tell you she was getting a bringing-in fee?"

"Kristin? Where would Kristin come across something like that?"

"We thought you might be able to tell us. That Kristin might have talked to you about it." Gemma leaned forward, inviting him to confide in her.

He colored, an ugly flush that brought out splotches on his neck. "No. She never said anything."

"What about when you called her last night?" asked Kincaid, taking the opportunity to play bad cop. At the sharpness in his voice, the dog raised his head and gave a low rumble, and Kincaid suddenly remembered reading that mastiffs were very protective of their owners.

But Giles Oliver seemed unaware of his dog's distress. "What?" he said, staring at them, but the blotches deepened in color.

"We talked to her mum," said Gemma. "What was it that you wanted Kristin to do?"

"I-I just wanted-I thought she might want someone to talk to about Khan giving her such a hard time."

"You asked her out?"

"No, not out, exactly. I thought she might want to come over. Listen to some records. You know, chill a bit. But-" He looked round the flat, as if seeing it through their eyes. "I should have known, shouldn't I?"

"That she'd say no?"

"She said she was going out," he retorted, as if trying to recover a shred of pride. "Meeting someone. At the Gate. That's why she couldn't come over."

"The Gate in Notting Hill?" Kincaid asked, frowning. The Gate was the nightclub in the basement of the cinema of the same name, a Notting Hill landmark.

"Yeah. I guess. I don't go places like that. Can't afford the drinks, and I'd rather make my own music." He gestured at the records and turntable.

"Did she say who she was meeting?"

"No. Maybe the same guy who sent her the roses. She was on her mobile with someone, after she argued with Mr. Khan."

"Or maybe you're making it all up," Kincaid said slowly. "Maybe when she turned you down, let you know you were a stupid git to even think she would consider going out with you, you decided to get even. You drove over and waited for her to come home, then gunned the car at her. Maybe you just thought you'd teach her a lesson."

"What?" Giles stood, and the dog rose onto his massive haunches, growling. "Are you saying someone ran Kristin down on purpose?"

"You had good reason."

"Me? Why would I do that? I loved her!" He began to laugh, with a hint of hysteria. "And I don't have a bloody fucking car."

"Well, that was a great success," Kincaid said as he eased the Rover back into traffic. He'd rung Cullen as soon as they were back in the car, learning that Giles Oliver not only had no car registered in his name, he had no driving license.

"Sarcasm doesn't become you," Gemma replied mildly. "And it wasn't a waste of time. We know where Kristin went-"

"Or at least where she told Giles she was going."

She glanced at him-his lips were set in a straight line. He didn't like feeling a fool. "You're determined to be difficult," she told him. "We at least have a place to start. And we know that there was a bloke in her life who probably sent her roses. Was that what made Khan angry, or was it me asking her about the brooch? And is Giles right? Did she meet the rose sender when she went out?"

"Or maybe Giles borrowed a neighbor's car, license or not."

"Do you really see Giles Oliver running someone down?"

"Vehicular homicide doesn't require getting up close and personal. Although I have to admit I can't see him asking for someone's keys, much less hot-wiring the neighbor's Volvo." His mouth relaxed, quirking into a smile. "Now if it had been accidental assault by dog…"

"I can't blame Kristin for resisting the dog and DJ combo," Gemma said, but the thought made Kristin seem very real. Sobering, Gemma wondered what would have happened if Kristin had accepted Giles's invitation. Would Giles and Mo have seen her home and kept her safe, at least for that night? "We'll have to check with his neighbors. Someone might have seen something, however unlikely."

"Where do you want to go, love?" Kincaid asked as they reached the King's Road again. "We seem to be at a momentary standstill. I can drop you at the Yard, if you want to get the tube to the hospital."

Gemma realized that for the last hour she'd hardly given her mum a thought, and with the prick of guilt all her worries came rushing back, both for her mum and for Erika. Glancing at her watch, she saw that Kit would just be getting home from school. An idea struck her and she said, "Let me make a quick call."

She caught Kit just as he was coming into the house, spoke to him, and was ringing off when Melody beeped in, her voice filled with cat-in-the-cream satisfaction.

"You'll never guess what I found out, boss."

Kit felt rather pleased. He liked Gemma's thinking that he could be helpful, and he wanted to talk to Erika again. He was curious about what had happened to her family, but felt he had put his foot in it a bit yesterday. He would have to bring it up more tactfully. Nor was he quite sure how to talk to Erika about the girl Gemma said had been killed, but he supposed he would think of something.

And, unlike yesterday, this time he had the opportunity to get out of his school clothes. Today was even warmer, so he swapped blazer and tie for jeans and T-shirt, let the dogs out into the garden for a quick pee and gave them biscuits, then set off down Lansdowne Road. When a gaggle of uniformed schoolgirls passed him and gave him the eye, giggling, he grinned at them with an unaccustomed sense of power and quickened his step.

When he rang the bell in Arundel Gardens, Erika answered immediately, and she didn't seem at all surprised to see him.

"I've made lemonade," she said. "Real lemonade, the way we used to make it in the summers in Germany when I was a child, not the fizzy stuff from a bottle."