Ghigau 11

Tench pulled in to the semi-circular drive of Hermione Patterson’s house and cut the engine. Sam had elected to interview Exa, the artist woman, so he had this one. 

    “Fuck me, where does she think she is Dallas?” He muttered to himself, staring up the semi-circular steps to the pink marble columns, glazed double front-doors, with white, wrought-iron shutters, flanked by ceramic planters filled with swaying pampas grass.  He stepped out of the air-conditioned Ford into a muggy, airless day, immediately feeling the sweat prickling his back. It’s fucking hotter than Dallas, he thought.

    Before he could ring the bell, both doors swung open at once, and a tall, attractive woman looked out at him expectantly. She was a well preserved fifty something, Tench guessed, and wore a figure-hugging, white dress, that set off her tanned legs, gold sandals and white toenails. Tench thought she’d gone to a lot of trouble to look sophisticated, but it came off a bit Beverly Hills.

    “Detective Tench?” She raised her perfectly stencilled eyebrows.

    “Yes ma’am,” he said. “And you are Hermione Patterson?” He proffered a meaty hand.

    “I am indeed.” Hermione shook hands briefly, managing to grasp only his fingertips, and then stood aside, “Please.” She waved him in.

    The interior of the house lived up to its outside promise. ’Liberace would have found this over top’.  Tench scoffed internally.  He wasn’t the sort of man to be impressed by a place like this. In fact he saw it as a weakness. The more you had to shout, the bigger your insecurity in his opinion.

    Hermione led him through to a kitchen so bright he wished he’d worn sunglasses. As she walked ahead of him, her bottom swayed appealingly under her fitted dress. She offered him a drink, which he declined, and then seated herself on a bar stool on the far side of a marble topped island, initially leaving him to stand somewhat awkwardly, his belly up against the edge of the cool stone. He felt conscious of his bulk. 

    “Please take a seat won’t you?” Hermione said coyly. She had left it just a little longer than was polite. Tench knew this was a tactic, a little power play. He wasn’t bothered. He pulled out a stool, purposely letting its metal feet scrape across the floor, watching Hermione flinch.

     Taking his time, he laboriously took out a notepad and pen followed by a small, digital recorder, making a show of being a little clumsy with his hands. He placed the device on the counter top. “Do you have any objection if I record our conversation?” He pointed at the machine. “This is just for convenience. I will take notes also, but the recorder makes it easier.”

    “Not at all,” Hermione said, waving away any doubt with a well manicured hand.

    “Firstly I’d like to run through Monday’s events as far as I understand them and then perhaps you could fill in the blanks for me?” Tench said.

    Hermione nodded. “Of course. I’m not sure what more I can tell you though. I didn’t hear from Nikki after she left the office and…”  Her sentence went unfinished.

    Tench smiled. “We appreciate your time Ms Patterson, really. But it’s possible that what might seem insignificant to you could turn out to be an important detail.” He had used ‘We’ on purpose. It reminded the interviewee they were dealing with a collective force not just an individual detective. He pressed a red button on the recorder and stated details of time, place, and those present, before addressing Hermione again.

    “So Mrs Talbot arrived at work at around 8.45am is that about right?”

    Hermione nodded. “Yes, she is very punctual, always gets there at a quarter-to or just after.”

    “And would you say she was in a normal frame of mind? Was there anything you noticed about her behaviour that was unusual, or out of place?” Tench continued, making notes as he spoke.

    “Nothing at all, it seemed a perfectly normal morning to me. If anything, she was in an even better mood than usual.” Hermione shrugged.

    Tench looked up, “Oh?”

    “I’d arranged a meeting with a new client and she was quite excited about it.” Hermione explained.

    Tench flipped back through his notepad. “That would be this ‘X-A’ person?”

    “She goes by Exa - as in ‘Alexa’, explained Hermione.

    Tench scribbled a note. “Thanks. So tell me, what would be the normal routine for a Monday morning?

    Hermione thought for a second. “Well, firstly I generally make the coffee. Then we sit and discuss any meetings or appointments we have for the week ahead. I basically take care of… I suppose you would say, the business side of things?” 

    Tench interjected, “And that would be?”    

    She tipped her head to one side, and pursed her lips. “Accounts, banking, contracts, that kind of thing.  Nikki handles creative and presentation, so she would be the one organising shows and booking artists. But any decisions that affect the business globally, like say for instance…” Hermione hesitated, trying to think of an example. “Let’s say we had to replace the gallery windows or something like that, we would obviously both need to agree any large expenditure like that.” She arched a hand, fingers pressed on to the counter for emphasis, making her gold bangles clink. 

    “When it comes to finance,” Tench said, choosing his words carefully, “Can I ask whether all withdrawals require joint signatures?”

    Hermione’s expression didn’t change. “No, it’s just not practical in a small company like ours.”

    “So either of you can move money around or withdraw it?” Tench clarified.

    “Yes, why? Hermione frowned.

    “It might be advisable to inform your bank and have that arrangement temporarily suspended.” Said Tench.

    Realisation dawned on Hermione’s face. “Oh, I see, you mean if someones got Nikki’s information and tries to steal from us?” She had another thought, “Or you think someone’s abducted her?” Her mouth fell open. “Oh—my—God,” She fanned herself with her hand, as if she might faint.

    “It’s a precaution, that’s all.” Tench said calmly.

    Hermione was visibly shaken. “Yes, I understand. I’ll call the bank this morning.”

    Tench consulted his notes, “So, where were we?” Flipping pages. “Yes, you were saying, were there any big decisions to be made that day?”

    Hermione shook her head. “No, nothing, we have an exhibition coming up and Bella had the proofs from the printers; I think they’d made some kind of mistake but Nikki sorted that out. It wasn’t a big deal”

    “And Bella is your assistant?” Tench said.

    “Well, she’s more Nikki’s assistant really, she deals with day-to-day gallery matters. A fierce little thing she is too.” Hermione added.

    Tench raised an eyebrow, “Fierce?”

    “She’s one of those terrier-like girls, great when you want to get a better price out of a supplier but a little abrasive for the customers sometimes.” Hermione said primly.

    Tench noted this in his pad. “Ok, and Mrs Talbot left around 3pm for her meeting?”

    “Yes,” said Hermione.

    “Did she walk, or take a cab? Tench said.

    “She walked, it wasn’t far. It would have taken her about twenty minutes I suppose.” Hermione said.

    “And did you speak to her again that day, after she left for her appointment?” Tench asked.

    “No, but then I wasn’t expecting her to call. We would have caught up the next day on how her meeting went. I worked until the afternoon, I had paperwork to do, then I left and drove home.”

    “And what time did you leave the gallery?” Tench asked.

    “About 4.30 I think. Bella has keys so she locked and alarmed.”

    “And you went straight home?” Tench said.

    “Yes, well I went to Waitrose actually, on the Harrow Road, and did a small shop and then came home.”

    “And did you go out again that evening?” Tench said.

    “No” Hermione was looking a little peeved. “Is this an interrogation Detective Tench? I feel as if I’m being accused of something.”

    “Not at all, Ma’am, we just need to establish everyone’s movements that evening. We’ll be asking everyone who saw Mrs Talbot that day the same questions I can assure you.” He smiled his best friendly copper smile. Hermione’s expression softened.

    Tench consulted his notepad again. “And Mr Talbot called you at around 6pm is that correct?”

    “Yes, I am sure about the time because I checked it when he told me Nikki wasn’t home yet.”

    Tench was perspiring in the heat and the light reflecting off the bright surfaces in the room was hurting his eyes. He loosened his tie. Hermione looked at her watch for the second time.

    “Do you have to be somewhere Miss Patterson?” Tench asked.

    “No, no, I’m sorry, I’m just worried I suppose. It’s all very unsettling and strange. I mean what could have happened to Nikki? She’s such a reliable person normally. I can’t imagine what would possess her to just go off like this.” She frowned and bit her lower lip  anxiously. It made her look vulnerable, Tench thought. She carried on,  “Do you have any idea at all what’s happened? I mean the police, do you have any theory?”

    “It’s too early to say.” Said Tench.  “But I can say that these things usually work themselves out. There’s normally a rational explanation, even if it’s not apparent at first.” He paused. “So as far as you are concerned, nothing unusual or out of the ordinary happened that day?”

    “No, nothing, at least, nothing significant,” she paused. “There was a phone call, after she left, but it was probably nothing.” Hermione sounded dubious as to whether it was a detail worth mentioning.

    “Phone call? For Mrs Talbot?” Tench asked, opening his pad up again.

    “Yes, it was from a woman. She asked for Nichola Talbot which made me think it was one of those cold canvassing calls as they always get the details from companies house and so use the wrong name — nobody calls her Nichola.” Hermione explained.

    “And what did the caller want?”

    “Just to speak to Nikki — or ‘Nichola’ — When I offered to take a message they said it was about the new contact lenses she ordered.

    “And that seems strange?”

    “Only because Nikki doesn’t wear them as far as I know, but then perhaps she’s changing glasses to lenses.” Said Hermione.

    “I see. And did the caller leave a name and number?” Tench enquired.

    “Yes, but it was a mobile number and I remember thinking wouldn’t an optician have a landline sort of number?” Hermione laughed. “I mean my optician doesn’t ring me from her mobile, but who knows these days? Anyway I wrote down the name, which was Sharon I think, and the number and that was that. Obviously I haven’t been able to give it to Nikki.” Her smile faded.

    “Do you have the number here?” Tench asked.

    “It’s at the gallery, but I can find it and call you. I’ll be going there as soon as we’re finished.” Hermione said.

    “Anything about the voice you can recall? Was it a young or old person would you say? Any accent to speak of?” Tench pressed.

    “I would say young ‘ish. No accent that I can recall. Just one of those generic ‘I want to sell you something’ voices, all bright and positive, you know?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

    “I think I do.” Tench nodded. A bead of sweat dropped from his temple onto the counter.

    “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink? Perhaps a cold one?” Hermione ran a hand through her hair, flicking it away from her face, as if to acknowledge how warm it was. The movement made her dress tighten across her breasts.

    ‘Are you flirting with me?’, Tench thought. “No, thank-you very much” He said. “I’ll be on my way, I think we’ve covered everything for now. But I’d like to talk to your assistant, Bella, and I’d be grateful if she could call me. Perhaps you’d give her this?” He handed his card to Hermione. 

    As she took it, the sleeve of her jacket rode up and revealed a yellow bruise on her right wrist. The kind you might get from being held too tightly or even tied up.  He added. “If you think of anything that you haven’t mentioned, you have my number, please let me know as soon as you can.” He slid from the stool, glad to be on two feet. His frame wasn’t made for minimalist furniture. 

    They walked to the front door. He offered his left hand as he said goodbye, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hermione’s other wrist, but she was already turning away and had either avoided it or perhaps hadn’t seen the gesture, he couldn’t be sure. She was hiding something, that much was clear, but whether it was to do with Nikki’s disappearance he couldn’t say.