Cambridge Blue - Alison Bruce [62]
‘That’s right. Nothing.’
‘And he stopped seeing Lorna?’
‘He wasn’t seeing her. It was a sex thing. That was Lorna and men, all over. One sex thing after another. By rights she should have been the VD capital of Cambridge.’
‘But her relationship with Richard Moran was different?’
‘Why? Because it’s lasted a few months? Or because he’s richer than most? Or perhaps because he was strung out with jealousy and she liked watching the frenzy it sent him into? Have you asked him about the phone yet?’
‘What phone?’
‘The mobile he bought her. He pays the bill, then gets the calls itemized and sent to his office so he can check on her.’
‘How do you know?’
‘The clinic’s a small place with thin walls; easy to know what’s going on if you set out to.’ She half closed her eyes and stared at the froth spinning on the top of her untouched coffee. ‘Lorna’s old phone, the one she lost – it’s in Richard’s office. You know, I think he’s a good bloke, but she just screwed him up. But on the other hand, I’m a shit judge of men.’
He kept his tone casual, hoping the next question would catch her with her guard down. ‘And how well do you know Bryn O’Brien?’
Victoria’s expression remained unaltered.
‘Ah.’ She blew out another column of smoke, this time with her head tilted back, sending it straight upwards. ‘I suppose it depends on how you categorize what’s relevant. I don’t know his mother’s maiden name or his date of birth, if that’s what you mean. But if good sex and superficial conversation qualify, then I’m in. Or, should I say, he was.’
‘But he’d been seeing Lorna as well.’
‘And?’
‘Why was Bryn fair game when John wasn’t?’
‘No one was going out with Bryn, were they? Lorna was seeing Richard, and I was enjoying being single.’
‘Now I’m confused.’
Victoria looked unimpressed. ‘That, I can imagine. Free-spirited women must be quite an anathema to someone like you.’
‘At this moment, you’re quite right.’ She was grating on him big time now, and he was annoyed with himself for being unable to keep the irritation from his voice. He forced himself to speak more slowly, and he also lowered the volume to make her pay better attention. ‘Let me explain why I’m a bit confused. You and Lorna were out with Bryn in January, correct?’
She blinked her eyelashes slowly. ‘Yup.’
‘But you fell out with her before that, in autumn last year.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Well, did you, or not?’
‘Why not figure it out yourself?’
‘Well, if you did, that would imply you patched things up again, yet now she’s dead you’re happy to admit you hated her. So either you never fell out in the first place, or you fell out for a second time. And if you really did fall out over this John Smith you’ve seen him far more recently than “ages ago”.’
Victoria ran her tongue across the front of her upper teeth. If it was supposed to look at all sexy, it didn’t succeed. Her eyes hardened and she suddenly pointed towards the river. ‘Look over there.’
Goodhew did, but saw nothing.
‘I think I see your next promotion coming over the horizon.’ Victoria stood abruptly, her cappuccino still untouched. ‘I know nothing that can help you, so let’s just leave it there.’
‘What about Colin Willis?’
She looked at him in irritation. ‘Who?’
‘The bloke you and she and Bryn played pool with.’
‘I never even spoke to him.’
Goodhew glanced around to make sure there was still no one within earshot. ‘Did Lorna sleep with him?’
Victoria lowered her face closer to his. ‘Lorna wanted something, but not sex. I know that much.’
‘How do you know?’
Victoria straightened. ‘Is my tan fake?’
Goodhew didn’t answer.
Victoria rolled her eyes. ‘It was obvious. But then we’ve already established that you’re a bit retarded on the women front, haven’t we?’
TWENTY-FIVE
The Boat Race stood on the corner of East Road and Burleigh Street and had once been Cambridge’s best-known live music pub. But, in the eyes of the planning office, the arrival of major new shops and Burleigh Street’s subsequent revamp hadn’t left room for such a venue. It was now called The Snug and