I See You(62)

‘I can’t. I’ve got to meet Zoe Walker in Covent Garden at eight in the morning. I’ll need to catch the last train.’ She had hoped Nick would allow her to meet Zoe on her own, thereby avoiding the risk of the DI finding out about Kelly’s call, but he was insisting on accompanying her. Kelly was relying on Zoe to be discreet.

‘Isn’t it – I don’t know – disobeying a lawful order, or something?’ Lexi said, refusing to let the subject drop.

‘Technically, I suppose.’

‘Technically? Kelly!’

Alfie twisted his head round, surprised by his mother’s sharp tone, and Lexi gave him a reassuring kiss. Dropping her voice a notch, she looked at Kelly. ‘Have you got some sort of death wish? Anyone would think you were actively trying to get the sack.’

‘I was doing the right thing.’

‘No, you were doing what you thought was the right thing. It isn’t always the same, Kelly.’

Zoe had arranged to meet Kelly and Nick in a café called Melissa’s Too in a side street near Covent Garden. Despite the early hour the café was already busy, the smell of bacon sandwiches making Kelly’s stomach rumble. A young girl behind the counter was making takeaway coffees with impressive efficiency, and Zoe was sitting at a table in the window. She looked tired; unwashed hair pulled into a hasty ponytail that contrasted sharply with the sleek French plait of the woman sitting next to her.

‘I’m sure something will come up,’ the woman was saying, as Kelly and Nick arrived. She stood to free up the chair. ‘Try not to worry about it.’

‘We were talking about my partner,’ Zoe said, although neither Kelly nor Nick had asked. ‘He’s been made redundant.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Kelly said. Perhaps that explained the tiredness.

‘This is my friend Melissa. It’s her café.’

Kelly stuck out her hand. ‘PC Kelly Swift.’

‘DI Nick Rampello.’

A flicker of recognition passed across Melissa’s face. ‘Rampello? Where have I seen that name recently?’

Nick smiled politely. ‘I’m not sure. My parents run the family Italian restaurant in Clerkenwell – perhaps you saw it there.’

‘That’s where your new café is, isn’t it?’ Zoe said.

‘That must be it. Now, what can I get you all to drink?’ Melissa tugged a small notepad from the breast pocket of her navy blazer and took their order, insisting on serving them all personally, despite the queue that stretched from the counter to the door.

‘Something happened,’ Zoe said, when Melissa had delivered their coffees.

‘What do you mean?’ Nick sipped his espresso, wincing when it burned his tongue.

‘I was followed. On Monday morning on my way to work. I thought I was being paranoid, but saw him again that evening – I tripped and he grabbed me before I fell in front of a train.’ Kelly and Nick exchanged a glance. ‘I put it down to coincidence, but then the next day he was there again.’

‘Did he speak to you?’ Kelly said.

Zoe nodded. ‘He asked me out for a drink. I said no, of course. I still thought it might have been coincidence, but it wasn’t, was it? He knew exactly which way I was going; he was waiting for me. He must have got my details from the website.’ She glanced at Kelly and flushed, and Kelly willed her not to say any more. She sneaked a sidelong look at Nick, but there was nothing about his demeanour which suggested he suspected anything.

‘Did this man give you a name?’ Kelly said.

‘Luke Friedland. I could describe him for you, if that would help.’

Kelly reached for her briefcase and found the paperwork she needed. ‘I’d like to take a statement, if that’s okay? I want everything you can remember about this man, including the route you were travelling, and any times you can be certain of.’

‘I’m going to organise a personal attack alarm,’ Nick said. ‘You’ll have it with you at all times, and if anything happens you can press it. It’ll be monitored 24/7 by our control room and they’ll be able to pinpoint your location.’

‘Do you think I’m in danger?’

Kelly looked at Nick, who didn’t hesitate.

‘I think you could be.’

‘You told her.’

It wasn’t a question.

They were heading towards Old Gloucester Road, to the address provided for them by the London Gazette; the address of the person responsible for placing the adverts in the classifieds. Nick was driving, spinning the steering wheel to switch lanes with the dexterity that came from years of practice. Kelly could imagine him in uniform, racing down Oxford Street on blues and twos.

‘Yes.’

She jumped as Nick slammed the heel of his palm against the horn as a cyclist cut across in front of him, bowling through a set of red lights.

‘I specifically said you were not to inform Zoe Walker about the developments in this case. Which bit of that was so hard to understand?’

‘I wasn’t comfortable with that decision.’

‘To hell with whether you’re comfortable, Kelly, it wasn’t your call to make.’ They turned right on to Shaftesbury Avenue, an ambulance screaming past in the opposite direction. ‘We’re dealing with a complex and wide-ranging investigation, with multiple offenders, multiple victims and God knows how many witnesses. There are more important matters than the way Zoe Walker feels.’