In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner (Inspector Lynley, #10)(118)

“Right. And I've got what you know. I want to hear what you think this time round.”

Upman took up the plastic brush from the floor. “About what?” he asked.

“The Maiden girl moved house in London four months ago. She left law college round the same time, and she had no plans to return to her studies. She had, in fact, taken up an entirely new line of work. What do you know about that?”

“About the new line of work? Nothing, I'm afraid.”

“So why was she spending the summer doing the sort of job a law student takes in between terms for work experience? It wasn't going to get her anywhere, was it?”

“I don't know. I didn't ask her those questions.” Upman applied the brush to the bicycle chain, meticulous with his cleaning efforts.

“Did you know she'd left college?” Hanken asked. And when Upman nodded, he said, exasperated, “God's teeth, man. What's the matter with you? Why didn't you tell us when we spoke to you yesterday?”

Upman glanced his way. “You didn't ask outright,” he said dryly. And the implication was clear: A man in his right mind never gave answers to questions that the police didn't ask.

“All right. My mistake. I'm asking now. Did she tell you she'd left college? Did she tell you why? And when did she tell you?”

Upman scrutinised the bike chain as he worked upon it, one inch at a time. The grime that resulted from the marriage of off-road dust, dirt, and bicycle lubricant began to liquefy into soapy brown globs, some of which plopped to the floor beneath the bike. “She phoned me in April,” Upman said. “Her dad and I had arranged her summer job last year. In December, this was. I let her know then that I was selecting her on the strength of my friendship—well, acquaintance, really—with her father, and I asked her to let me know at once if something more to her taste came along, so I could offer the job to some other student. I'd meant more to her taste in law, but when she phoned in April, she told me she was giving up the practise of law entirely. She'd got another job that she liked better, she said. More money, less hours. Well, don't we all want that?”

“She didn't say what it was?”

“She named a firm in London. I don't remember what she called it. We didn't dwell much on the subject. Just spoke for a few minutes, mostly about the fact that she wouldn't be working for me in the summer.”

“But she ended up here anyway. Why? Did you talk her into it?”

“Not at all. She phoned again a few weeks later and said she'd changed her mind about the job and could she work for me as previously arranged if I hadn't got anyone yet.”

“She'd changed her mind about college?”

“No. She was still leaving college. I asked her that and she told me as much. But I don't think she was ready to tell her parents. They set a lot of store by her achievements. Well, what parent doesn't? And, after all, her dad had gone out of his way to arrange a job for her, and she knew that. The two of them were close, and I think she'd had second thoughts about letting him down when he was getting so much mileage from bragging about her. My daughter the lawyer. You know what I mean.”

“So why did you employ her? If she'd already left college, if she'd made it clear that she wouldn't be returning … She wasn't a law student any longer. Why hire her?”

“As I know her dad, I wasn't averse to going along with a little deception to spare his feelings, if only for the time being.”

“Why does that sound like pure cock to me, Upman? You had something going with the Maiden girl, didn't you? This summer-job rubbish was nothing but a blind. And you damn well know what she was up to in London.”

Upman withdrew the crescent end of the brush from the bicycle chain. It bled slick soapy residue onto the floor. He looked at Hanken. “I told you the truth yesterday, Inspector. All right, she was attractive. And she was intelligent. And the thought of having an attractive and intelligent young woman picking up the slack round the office from June till September didn't exactly set my teeth on edge. She would be a visual diversion, I thought. And I'm not a man who's distracted from his own work by a pleasant visual diversion. So when she wanted back in, I was happy to have her. As were my partners, by the way.”

“Have her, did you say?”

“Hell. Come on. We aren't playing at examine-the-hostile-witness. There's no point to your trying to trap me with slips, because I'm not hiding anything. You're wasting your time.”

“Where were you on the ninth of May?” Hanken persisted.

Upman's forehead furrowed. “The ninth? I'd have to check my diary, but I expect I had meetings with clients, as usual. Why?” He looked over at Hanken and appeared to take an accurate reading from the DFs face. “Ah. Someone must have gone to London to see Nicola. Is that right? To talk her into—perhaps even to force her into—a scintillating summer in Derbyshire taking depositions from housewives estranged from their husbands. Is that what you think?” He got to his feet and went for the hose pipe. He turned on the tap and brought the nozzle back. He directed a gentle spray at the bike chain, moving it along and watching the muck wash away.

“Perhaps that was you,” Hanken told him. “Perhaps you wanted to keep her from her ‘other employment.’ Perhaps you wanted to make sure you got the”—he felt his lip curl—“‘visual diversion’ you were looking for. Since she was so attractive and intelligent, as you say.”