Enigma

  Chapter Nine

  Day Three

  Wednesday, 31 October 2012

  ‘So, how did a New York copper,’ she paused, ‘or cop, as you would say, end up in London then?’

  Love had given in to loneliness or hunger or something. A moment of weakness, Love wasn’t sure himself. By 11:40 hours he’d put a call through to Sophie and now found himself sitting at a cloth-covered table in a busy ‘it’s so cool we just have to go there’ bistro a few minutes walk from the Branch. It was noisy, people in a hurry, talking, eating, and Sophie was savouring every moment.

  Love played with his fork. He didn’t look at her. Not immediately. He was too busy looking over at the counter watching the people coming and going.

  ‘It’s a boring story, you don’t want to hear it,’ he replied finally.

  ‘Oh, but I do,’ Sophie said, and smiled charmingly at him.

  ‘It was all to do with politics, good PR, we send one of ours over here and you return the compliment.’

  ‘Like an exchange.’

  ‘That’s about it. I was in two minds about it myself and then... well, then I discovered I had nothing to keep me in New York so I took them up on their offer and volunteered.’

  ‘And that was five years ago?’

  ‘That’s about it,’ Love replied, and smiled at the waitress who placed a plate of steaming spaghetti and chicken on the table in front of him.

  She looked at Love. ‘I hope you enjoy your meal,’ she said as she smiled in return before serving Sophie her tuna and sweetcorn salad.

  ‘I’m glad you called me, Dick,’ Sophie said, and picked up her glass of chilled house wine. She took a sip then put it down again running her fingers up and down its stem.

  Love said nothing. He tucked into his meal. He was hungry and he hadn’t felt like eating on his own. Not this time. Sophie had made no secret of her attraction towards him and on the spur of the moment Love had wanted to see her. Now he was beginning to think it hadn’t been such a good idea. He simply wanted to eat his meal and get back to the office. He was eager to get back to his lead. Was it a lead?

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I said, it looks like you’re enjoying that,’ Sophie said as she pointed with her fork at Love’s plate.

  Love swallowed before replying. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie, yes, it’s very good. How’s yours?’

  ‘It’s fine. Maybe we could do this again, Dick. Make a habit out of it? Just the two of us.’

  ‘I’m known as Love. Just Love, never by my first name,’ he said as he looked directly at her. He narrowed his eyes as if weighing her up before continuing. ‘I don’t get much time to go out for lunch. This is a one-off, I’m afraid.’

  A look of anger passed over Sophie’s pretty face. She wasn’t looking for marriage or anything. She just wanted to have some fun with someone who could afford to give it to her. Maybe she’d got it wrong. He might be good-looking but he wasn’t any fun. Not like his name at all, she thought churlishly, tucking into his chicken, not saying much. She felt like a fool. She picked at her salad for a few minutes then reached for her glass and took another sip of wine. She glanced at Love. Threw her head back and emptied the contents.

  ‘Would you like another?’ Love nodded towards her empty glass.

  ‘No, thanks.’

  Love continued to eat his lunch. Every now and then he’d glance towards the desk where meals were handed over as takeaways and lunches were paid.

  ‘How’s your wife, Dick?’ she asked suddenly then wished she hadn’t.

  Love laid down his fork and wiped his mouth with his paper serviette. ‘I can see no reason why you should be asking after my wife,’ he said quietly. ‘As far as I am aware, you don’t know each other, do you?’

  Sophie said nothing.

  ‘Then again, there’s a lot about my wife I don’t know.’ He stood up. He edged round the small table and pulled out her chair. ‘Shall we go?’

  Sophie continued to say nothing. She simply stepped away and waited as Love paid the bill with his credit card and together they left the restaurant.

  The return walk back to DSBD was silent and awkward. Love strolled along at a brisk pace while Sophie stepped alongside him with small rapid steps. The high heels of her boots click-clacking in time on the pavement until their arrival back at the Branch a few minutes later. They stood side by side in the opulent reception area waiting to show their ID. Petulance and perfume came from Sophie’s direction in gulfs of waves. She flicked her hair back over one shoulder with a manicured hand causing hair gel or hairspray or something, whatever, to waft over in Love’s direction. The fragrance smelt sickly and commercial and it hit Love right in the face. Love felt like he was stepping into a highly charged London fog. One that invaded his senses and it made him slightly nauseous.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. Whatever it is you’re after I’m not the one.’

  ‘I thought we could go out, have a laugh, be friends.’

  ‘I don’t have time for friends.’

  ‘I don’t blame your wife for leaving you,’ she said before turning on her heel. Her pride was hurt and she was hitting back the only way she knew how.

  Love looked after her. ‘Neither do I,’ he remarked, flashed his ID, and ambled on over to the lift.

  12:30 hours

  ‘How was lunch?’

  Stuart was standing by one of the large windows looking out at the busy chaos going on around him made up of traffic and clusters of people catching buses and hailing taxis or simply shopping.

  In his hand he held a mug of tea. He’d turned at the sound of Love crashing into the room. The blind swung out violently before settling back against the glass panel with a final clatter.

  ‘What? Oh yeah, nice bit of chicken, I can recommend going there.’ Love was at his desk in two strides. He began to rifle through his files. ‘How did your meeting with Sister Brookes go?’

  ‘I meant the company and thank you, my meeting went well.’

  ‘Company? Oh yeah, well, she’s sweet enough if you like them shallow but it won’t happen again. I’m not interested in playing games.’ Love waved his hand in the air. Never mind all that. Something had occurred to him in the lift on the way back.

  Something important.

  He continued to rifle through his paperwork and then did the unthinkable. He reached for his mouse and clicked it. He noticed the cat awaken with a start.

  ‘Love?’

  Love said nothing but clicked on a file and stepped back with a smile. ‘There it is.’

  ‘What?’ Stuart walked over to Love’s desk and peered at the screen.

  ‘Mr Butterfield. His statement. At the time his wife was abducted and murdered, Butterfield told us he had an alibi.’

  ‘That’s right, he did, it was checked and verified. He was at work, he had witnesses.’

  ‘Yes, but what he failed to tell us was that sometime, perhaps an hour earlier, he left his office.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I saw him, just now, at lunch.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And, he was there picking up a soup and fish risotto to go. And the girl behind the counter asked him if she should put that on his account to which he mumbled something in reply, I didn’t hear what he said, but then as he left, she called after him, “Bye Mr Butterfield, see you same time tomorrow.”’

  Stuart took a sip from his mug as Love continued.

  ‘He’s got a standing order, Stuart. Looks like he goes there every day. He didn’t tell us that though, did he! He said he’d been at work at the time of his wife’s murder.’

  ‘But he was, he wasn’t lying.’

  ‘No, he wasn’t lying, he simply didn’t tell us the whole story. He had been in his office during the time of her abduction but what he failed to tell us was that he’d been out of the office an hour before.’

  ‘Maybe he thought it wasn’t important.’

  ‘If it wasn’t any big deal, why h
ide it. Why not mention it?’

  ‘I’m acting devil’s advocate here but I can’t think of a reason,’ Stuart said as he stared back at Love. A moment later he placed his mug down on a filing cabinet and grabbed his jacket. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘We’re going to pay Mr Butterfield a little visit. At work.’