Bloody Valentine - James Patterson [15]
‘You are Mr Michael Barnes and Miss Anni Jones?’
‘We are,’ Michael retorted. ‘Just what the hell is going on?’ Michael was a younger version of his brother – slimmer, with sharper features. There was a suspicious expression in his eyes. Annoyance at being kept from his apartment and studio? Or something more sinister? Amy wondered.
‘Please don’t damage my sculptures,’ Anni begged. ‘I promised to deliver them to a Knightsbridge gallery today. If I don’t, they could cancel my exhibition.’
‘Have you any idea how competitive the art world is? Or how much work Anni has put in—’
Amy interrupted Michael. ‘Have you seen your sister-in-law, or Mr Bruno Gambrini, or Mr Adrian Wills today?’
‘No,’ Michael snarled.
‘You’re sure?’ Amy pressed.
‘Of course I’m sure.’ Michael raised his voice. ‘We’ve only seen Jack today …’
‘When?’
‘He gave us a hand to move one of our sculptures into the lift first thing …’
‘What time was “first thing”?’
Michael looked to Anni. ‘Eight, eight thirty?’
‘About then,’ she agreed.
‘Then what did you do?’ Amy asked.
‘We loaded our van …’
‘Is it kept in the garage here?’ Ben looked up from his notebook.
‘Yes.’
‘Registration number?’
Michael rattled it off.
‘Big van?’
‘A transit. We need it to transport Anni’s sculptures. They’re life size.’
‘How long did it take you to load up?’ Amy continued the interview.
‘An hour. We took four sculptures from the studio. That’s as many as the van can take.’
‘You drove away from the building, when?’ Ben poised his pen over his notepad.
‘Nine thirty,’ Anni answered.
‘You’re very sure,’ Amy commented.
‘I checked my watch as we left. I remember telling Michael it was a good time to set off because we were missing the rush hour.’
‘You drove straight to the gallery?’ Amy checked.
‘Straight there,’ Michael echoed. ‘Then we unloaded Anni’s sculptures. She stayed to arrange them.’
‘You didn’t stay?’ Ben looked up.
‘The exhibition is Anni’s, not mine. I drove to Hyde Park and walked our dog.’ He pointed to a Pekinese lying under a chair.
‘Where exactly did you go in the park?’
Michael lost his temper. ‘What’s this? You’re not allowed to walk a dog in the park without telling the police … ?’
In contrast to Michael, Amy kept cool. ‘What time did you arrive at the gallery?’
‘Ten o’clock.’ It was Anni, not Michael, who spoke.
‘Did you see anyone there?’
‘Julie Harris, the owner, and her employees, George and Yolanda.’ Again it was Anni who answered.
‘What time did you leave?’
‘Michael left about half past ten …’
‘I’ve had enough.’ Michael declared. ‘I’ll not say another word until you tell me what this is about.’
‘If you can’t produce any witnesses as to your whereabouts this morning, would you like to continue this discussion at the police station?’ Ben enquired.
‘We arrived at the gallery at ten o’clock,’ Anni answered for Michael. ‘We had to wait ten minutes for a spot in the loading bay. Julie and her staff helped us unload. It took about half an hour. Afterwards, Michael left for the park. He returned at half past twelve. We drove back via Kensington Gardens. We found a parking space, bought sandwiches and orange juice, had a picnic lunch, stayed about half an hour, then returned here.’
‘Kensington Gardens is out of your way, isn’t it?’ Ben asked.
‘Anni was envious of my walk in the park. She wanted to see something green. Is that a crime?’ Michael was still fuming.
‘Did you meet anyone you knew in the park or the gardens?’ Amy checked.
‘No.’
‘Were there many people about?’
‘Hyde Park on a dry Valentine’s Day morning. Hundreds,’ Michael glared at Ben. ‘And the same goes for the gardens.’
Amy’s mobile rang. She left the room, closed the door behind her and walked to the corner of the foyer furthest from the porter’s desk. ‘Amy Stuart.’
Patrick answered in his Irish lilt. ‘We’ve had the DNA results on the heart.’
Chapter Fourteen
‘And …?’ It irritated Amy, having to ask.
‘It’s Zee Barnes.’
‘Does Jack Barnes know?’
‘Barbara