Nine Elms (Kate Marshall #1)(44)

Kate and Tristan had expected her to describe Peter Conway, and then it had veered off in another direction.

“You know this Paul Adler?” asked Kate, unable to hide her disbelief.

“Yes, well, I knew of him. He owned Adler’s, the chemist two doors down from the Hollywood Nights where myself and Caitlyn worked. He took the compensation he got from the accident and opened up the chemist, or should I say pharmacy. He bought the building, so he had that and all the shops paying him rent. He became very well off. He used to stop by and rent videos,” said Victoria.

“Do you still see him?”

“Good Lord, no, me and him are all in the past.”

“Did you have a relationship with him?”

“No!”

Kate considered pressing her more on this—her reaction had been so quick and vehement—but she wanted to concentrate on Paul Adler and Caitlyn.

“How long were Paul and Caitlyn an item?” she asked.

“I don’t think they were an item. He was married, still is, but they used to go off for ‘drives,’” she said, using air quotes. “He was quite eligible. He always used to get the new registration cars the day they came out each year. He was the first to have the new H-reg car in the area.”

“A friend of Caitlyn said she saw Caitlyn talking to a bloke in a new H-reg car,” said Tristan. He took out his mobile and found the picture of Peter Conway. “Did you ever see Caitlyn with this man?” He held up the photo.

Victoria took a sip of her tonic water and choked, coughing. It took her a moment to compose herself.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping at her chin with a napkin. “You surprised me. That’s Peter Conway, the whatsit, the cannibal killer . . . Why on earth have you got that picture?” She pulled a conspiratorial face at Kate. “Who else’s photo has he got on that phone? Jack the Ripper? You are a naughty boy!”

“I’m showing you because we think Peter Conway may have been involved in Caitlyn’s disappearance,” said Tristan.

“He was a police officer in Greater Manchester in 1990,” added Kate.

Victoria sat back in her chair, chastised.

“I know all this. I do read the newspapers . . . And I wasn’t Caitlyn’s nursemaid. I rather think I gave her confidence to chat up men. That’s all. She did the rest.”

“Peter Conway never came into the video shop?” asked Kate.

“I can’t remember everyone who came in, and I only worked there part time!”

“Do you think Paul Adler could have known Peter Conway?” asked Tristan.

“Absolutely not! No, no, no,” she said. She saw her glass was empty and called the waiter over and ordered another.

“You said you haven’t seen Paul Adler in years. How could you be so sure?” asked Kate.

“Well, we’ve spoken over the years, and it came up in conversation. Peter Conway worked in the area, and there’s been all those rumors about if there were previous victims . . . You have to remember the police force in Manchester is big, and Paul told me that he never came into contact with Conway.”

The waiter brought over her drink. Victoria was now flustered and fumbled in her bag, removed a bottle of pills, and had trouble with the lid. Tristan took it from her, twisted the lid off, and handed it back.

“Thank you. Blood pressure medication, forgot to take it . . . ,” she said, popping a pill in her mouth and swallowing it with a gulp of tonic. “I wish I could go back to my young, svelte sixteen-year-old self and shake her for thinking she was fat.”

“Okay, so you think it was Paul Adler who picked Caitlyn up that night from the youth club?” asked Kate. “This would have been early August 1990. And it was definitely an H-reg Rover.”

Victoria rolled her eyes.

“I feel like we’re going around in circles. It certainly sounds like Paul Adler. He’s on Facebook, and I think he’s got a picture of his younger self on his profile.” Victoria had pulled a powder compact from her bag and was reapplying her lipstick. It seemed she had had enough and wanted to go.

“Do you have Paul Adler’s details?” asked Kate. “I’d like to get in contact with him.”

“Erm, I’m not really comfortable giving out other people’s phone numbers without their consent,” she said, snapping the lid back on her lipstick.

But you’re happy to label Caitlyn, who is missing and presumed dead, as “quite the little shagger,” thought Kate.

“We’re going to look him up anyway, and I just want to ask him a few questions. He might know something useful.” Kate smiled and didn’t break eye contact.

Victoria turned and unhooked her bag from the back of her chair, taking out of it a small silver address book. She flicked through pages and pages until she found an address.

“Here we are. Paul Adler.” She gave Kate his details. “You know, the police spoke to him about Caitlyn going missing, and he had a cast-iron alibi. He was in France with his wife on the day Caitlyn disappeared. They have a place out there, Le Touquet. He’s a nice family man.”

Kate felt her heart sinking into her boots.

“Why didn’t you say so before?” she asked.

“I didn’t think Paul Adler would be a suspect.”

“Can you give us a list of any other men who Caitlyn was involved with?”