Nine Elms (Kate Marshall #1)(47)

It was just before two p.m. when she pulled up at Paul Adler’s pharmacy, which was a couple of miles from Caitlyn’s old house. It was at the end of a parade of shops that also housed a Costa Coffee and two estate agents. A large red fluorescent sign spelled out ADLER’S CHEMIST above the door. A long line of huge apothecary bottles in various colors filled a window display on one side, and they were covered in dust.

A bell on the door rang when she went inside, and there was a pleasant antiseptic smell and the library hush that older chemists seem to have. There was a polished wood floor and countertops. A couple of old ladies at the counter were speaking in low tones to a very young girl behind the till, and the rattle of a prescription being filled came through a hatch at the back.

The pharmacy also sold cosmetics, and Kate browsed the makeup and waited until the door tinged and the old ladies were gone. She went to the till and told the young girl wearing a white smock that she had an appointment to see Paul Adler.

“I’ll just see if he’s available,” she replied. She was doll-like, thin and blonde with huge eyes. She spoke with a small, almost squeaky voice. She went out back and returned, moments later, with a tall, broad, graying man. He had put on weight and was a little stooped, but Kate recognized him from his photo as Paul Adler.

“Hello, pleased to meet you,” he said, coming to shake her hand.

“Thank you for seeing me,” said Kate. He held on to her hand, clasping it in both of his. His eyes were clear and strikingly blue as he looked down at her. Kate only noticed the false eye when he glanced over at the girl behind the counter. “Tina. We’ll be in the back. Please don’t disturb us.”

“Of course, Mr. Adler,” she said meekly.

“Come this way,” he said, releasing Kate’s hand. He led her through a door at the rear of the room and down a dimly lit wood-paneled corridor, past a closed door on the left and an open door, which was the pharmacy proper, where the medication was stored in a wall lined with drawers.

Two young women were inside and were similar in appearance to Tina, small and pretty with long blonde hair. They were making up prescriptions, working in complete silence, and they looked away when Kate came past. At the end of the corridor was a smart little staff kitchen with a wooden table and chairs. A glass door looked out onto a small loading bay.

“Please, sit,” he said. He closed the door. Kate pulled up a chair next to the glass door and sat. “Would you like coffee?”

“Thank you. Black, no sugar,” said Kate. With the door closed, the room felt even smaller.

“You’ve kept all the old original features of the shop out front. It reminds me of the chemists I went to as a child,” said Kate.

“It’s all being ripped out next month. I’m having a new shop front, new wiring, and a digital security system put in. The cameras on the till and in the dispensary still use VHS,” he said. “Here are the photos,” he added, picking up a packet of prints that were next to a capsule coffee maker. He dropped them onto the table and started to fuss with the machine. Kate opened it and found six photos, all taken of Caitlyn on a bright, sunny day. She had posed for the pictures in a field of buttercups. She wore a long, white dress and had a chain of daisies on her head.

“She was beautiful,” said Kate as she flicked through. Paul didn’t answer. There was a whir as the coffee machine finished, and he brought the cups over. He pulled the chair out and sat opposite.

“You kept the photos? Was she special to you?” asked Kate.

“Listen, I’m happy to answer any questions, but I don’t appreciate being under suspicion,” he said. His voice was soft with a tinge of menace.

“You’re not under suspicion. I told you I’ve been hired by Caitlyn’s parents to clear up a few questions . . . and it was more of an observation, as to why you kept the photos?”

“I used to process photos here, back in the day before we all went digital. Some of my clients were actors and modeling agencies. They would pay me a fee to keep negatives on file for reprints. I kept the negatives of Caitlyn for memory’s sake. I was being an old softy,” he said.

Kate thought the way he loomed over her with his still, unseeing eye didn’t conjure the image of him as “an old softy.”

The door suddenly opened, and Tina entered with a bag of rubbish.

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Adler,” she said.

“Go ahead,” he said. His chair was pulled out, and he didn’t move, so she was forced to squeeze past him. She opened the glass door and went out to the loading bay. The door closed behind her. Kate watched her cross to a large rubbish bin filled with bags. She tossed the bag onto the pile and came back.

“It’s a revenue stream I greatly miss, photo processing,” said Paul, turning his attention back to the photos of Caitlyn. Tina came back to the door and a security keypad, where she mouthed four numbers as she punched them in: one, three, four, six. The door clicked open.

Paul tilted his head to look at a photo of Caitlyn leaning against a tree, smiling at the camera with her back arched.

Tina squeezed past Paul, and he waited until she was out of the room, then shifted his chair so he was sitting with his back against the door out to the pharmacy.

“I’d just got married when I had the affair with Caitlyn . . . She was, er, tasty, shall we say . . .” He smiled, and it was made more unnerving because it didn’t reach his right eye.