The Word Is Murder(81)
‘Successful,’ Grace contradicted him. ‘He was eaten up by success.’
‘And now he’s dead,’ Hawthorne said. He glanced bleakly in her direction. ‘You might say that it couldn’t have happened at a better time.’
‘I don’t know what you mean!’ Grace was angry. ‘I would never say that. He was Ashleigh’s father. She’s going to grow up without ever knowing him.’
‘I understand he left a will.’
Grace faltered. ‘Yes.’
‘Do you know what’s in it?’
‘Yes. His lawyer, Charles Kenworthy, was at the funeral and I asked him then. I had to know we’re going to be secure, if only for Ashleigh’s sake. I don’t have to worry. He left everything to us.’
‘He had life insurance.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘I do, Grace.’ Sitting there in his suit with his legs crossed and his arms folded, Hawthorne was both at his most relaxed and at his most ruthless. His dark eyes were fixed on her, pinning her down. ‘He took out a policy six months ago. From what I understand, you’ll get almost a million quid. Not to mention the flat in Brick Lane, the house in Hollywood Hills, the Alfa Romeo Spider—’
‘What are you saying, Mr Hawthorne?’ her father demanded. ‘Do you think my daughter killed Damian?’
‘Why not? From the sound of it, you wouldn’t have been too sorry and frankly, if I’d been stuck with him, I wouldn’t have thought twice.’ He turned back to Grace. ‘I notice you arrived in England the day before Damian’s mum died …’
I hadn’t had a chance to tell Hawthorne what I had found, looking through my notes. I was disappointed to hear he had got there without me.
‘Did you see her?’ he asked.
‘I was going to visit Diana. But Ashleigh was exhausted after the flight.’
‘I suppose you were flying premium economy again! So you didn’t go round?’
‘No!’
‘Grace was here with me,’ her father said. ‘And I’ll swear to that in a court of law if I have to. And when Damian was killed, she was still at the funeral.’
‘And where were you during the funeral, Mr Lovell?’
‘I was in Richmond Park with Ashleigh. I took her to see the deer.’
Hawthorne swung back to Grace. ‘When you were telling us about RADA, you said there was something more that you wanted to tell us about the girl who called herself Amanda Leigh. What was that?’
‘She was Damian’s first girlfriend, but right at the end they split up. As a matter of fact, I think she left him for Dan Roberts. I saw them kissing just before we started rehearsing Hamlet. And I mean kissing! They were completely into each other.
‘She played Osric in the production. I told you that. Afterwards, she did quite well. She did a couple of big musicals; that was her speciality. The Lion King and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. But then she disappeared.’
‘You mean she stopped working?’ I asked.
‘No. She disappeared. She went out for a walk one day and she didn’t come back. It was in all the newspapers. Nobody ever found out what happened to her.’
A quick Google search on my iPhone outside Martin Lovell’s home produced the following newspaper report from eight years before:
SOUTH LONDON PRESS – 18 OCTOBER 2003
PARENTS APPEAL AS ACTRESS GOES MISSING
A woman, 26, has gone missing from her home in Streatham, sparking a police search operation.
Police officers are searching for Amanda Leigh, an actress who has appeared in several major West End musicals, including The Lion King and Chicago. She is described as slim, with long fair hair, hazel eyes and freckles.
Miss Leigh left her flat early Sunday evening. She was smartly dressed in a grey silk trouser suit and carrying a dark blue, Hermès Kelly handbag. Police were informed when she failed to appear for the Monday evening performance at the Lyceum Theatre. It has now been six days since she was last seen.
Police have been talking to several internet dating agencies. The actress, who was single, was known to have met men online and could have been on her way to an assignation. Her parents have appealed for anyone who saw her that evening to come forward.
I showed it to Hawthorne, who nodded as if it was exactly what he had expected to read. ‘So why are you interested in Amanda Leigh?’ I asked.
He didn’t answer. We were still standing in the middle of the estate, surrounded by identical houses and gardens, a few parked cars providing the only primary colours. Just then, another plane screamed overhead, its wheels lowered, its gigantic bulk blocking out the light. I waited for it to pass. ‘Are you going to tell me that Amanda Leigh was also murdered? But she’s got nothing to do with this. We never even heard of her before today.’
Hawthorne’s phone rang. He held up a hand as he dug it out of his pocket and answered it. The conversation lasted about a minute although Hawthorne barely said anything – just ‘yes’ two or three times, then ‘right’ and ‘OK.’ Finally he rang off. His face was grim. ‘That was Meadows,’ he said.
‘What’s happened?’
‘I’ve got to go back to Canterbury. He wants to talk to me.’