I See You(79)

‘Same shit, different day; you know how it is,’ Brian said cheerfully. ‘How’s the secondment going?’

‘Loving it.’

‘What can I do you for?’

‘Tuesday twenty-fourth November, Crystal Palace, second barrier from the left, 1837. If it helps, the system should show a Mrs Zoe Walker immediately preceding it.’

‘Give me a tick.’

Kelly heard the tapping of Brian’s keyboard. He was singing under his breath, and Kelly recognised the same tuneless refrain he’d been humming ever since she had known him. Brian had done his thirty years in the job, kick-started his pension then returned the next day to a new job with London Underground.

‘I’d be bored at home,’ he’d told Kelly, when she’d questioned why he wasn’t off enjoying his retirement. After thirty years working in London there was nothing Brian didn’t know about the city; when he finally retired he’d be hard to replace.

‘Any idea who you’re after, Kelly?’

‘Definitely a man,’ she said, ‘possibly a Luke Friedland.’

Another pause, then Brian chuckled; a throaty, phlegmy sound fuelled by coffee and Benson & Hedges. ‘Not very imaginative, your chap. His Oyster’s registered to a Luke Harris. Want to have a stab at what street he lives on?’

‘Friedland Street?’

‘Got it in one.’

They were waiting for him when he got home from work, stepping out of the car as he paused to enter his door code.

‘Could we have a quick word?’ Kelly said, showing her warrant card and watching Harris intently. Was she imagining it, or was there a flash of panic in his eyes?

‘What about?’

‘Shall we go up?’

‘It’s not terribly convenient; I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight. Perhaps you could leave a number …’

‘We can take you down the station, if you’d prefer?’ Nick said, moving from behind Kelly to stand next to her. Harris looked from one to the other.

‘You’d better come in.’

Luke Harris lived in a penthouse apartment in W1, the highest of six floors housing more modest flats. They stepped out of the lift into a vast open-plan space, the gleaming white surfaces of a rarely used kitchen to their left.

‘Very nice,’ Nick said, walking across the living room and looking out at the city. To the right the BT Tower loomed over its neighbours, and Kelly could see the Shard and Heron Tower in the distance. In the centre of the room two overstuffed sofas sat facing each other, separated by a huge glass coffee table; its surfaces piled with glossy travel books. ‘Read all these, have you?’

Harris was nervous, tugging at his tie and looking first at Kelly, then at Nick. ‘What’s all this about?’

‘Does the name Zoe Walker mean anything to you?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘You asked her out for a drink last week, outside Crystal Palace station.’

‘Ah! Yes, of course. Zoe. She said no.’ Kelly detected a note of indignation which didn’t match the careless shrug Harris had given.

‘Unusual for a woman to resist your charms?’ Kelly said, her voice thick with sarcasm. Harris had the grace to blush slightly.

‘Not at all. It’s only that we’d got on rather well, I thought, in the short time we’d spent together. And although she was attractive she must have been pushing forty, so …’ he tailed off under Kelly’s withering stare.

‘And you thought she might be a bit more grateful?’

Harris said nothing.

‘How did you meet Zoe Walker?’ Nick turned away from the floor-to-ceiling windows and walked to the middle of the room. Harris hadn’t invited her to take a seat, and had remained standing himself, so Kelly had done the same. The DI had no such reservations. He sat heavily on one of the sofas, the cushion billowing out either side of him. Kelly followed his lead. Reluctantly, as though he had up to that point hoped they wouldn’t be staying long, Harris sat down opposite them.

‘We got chatting on the Underground on Monday. Then we bumped into each other again and seemed to hit it off.’ He shrugged again, but there was something forced about it. ‘It’s not a crime to ask someone out, is it?’

‘You met on the Tube?’ Kelly said.

‘Yes.’

‘Completely by chance?’

Harris paused. ‘Yes. Look, this is all quite absurd. I’ve got work to do, so if you don’t mind—’ He began to stand up.

‘You didn’t buy her commute details on a website called find the one?’ Kelly kept her tone casual, enjoying the look on Harris’s face, which oscillated between shock and fear. He sat down, and Kelly waited for him to speak.

The pause seemed to go on for ever.

‘Are you arresting me?’

‘Should I be?’

Kelly let the silence answer for her. Had he committed an offence? It wasn’t a crime to ask Zoe Walker out for a drink, but if he’d been following her …

Gordon Tillman had been charged with rape, remanded and put before a Saturday morning magistrates court. On his solicitor’s advice Tillman had gone no comment to all the questions put to him, despite Kelly’s suggestion that he was only making the situation worse.