A woman rose from the floor where she’d been kneeling beside the body.
‘Preliminary report?’ Amy was abrupt, shaken by the size of the pool of blood standing proud around the corpse.
Sergeant Reece left the bedroom. ‘Ma’am, sir. The porter has identified the victim as Bruno Gambrini. He occupied this apartment with his partner, Adrian Wills. Both are chefs who work for Jack Barnes. Mr Wills, who was also identified by the porter, was found slumped over Mr Gambrini’s corpse. He was holding a carving knife and his clothes are stained with Mr Gambrini’s blood.’
The pathologist took over. ‘Serrations on the knife match the wounds in Mr Gambrini’s abdomen and neck. Rigor mortis hasn’t set in, so death was within the last three hours. There are two stab wounds. One to the abdomen, one to the neck. The one to the neck severed the jugular before hitting the spine. There are bone fragments on the knife and at the entry point of the wound, which were probably left when the knife was withdrawn. Mr Gambrini died from blood loss, probably within a minute of his jugular being severed. No organs have been removed.’ The pathologist called to the technicians. ‘You can move the body out now.’
‘You’ll notify me of the post mortem results?’
‘You should have them by the end of the day, ma’am.’
Sergeant Reece stood back. ‘The suspect is in the bedroom, ma’am, sir.’
Amy and Ben picked their way around the corpse and pools of blood and entered the bedroom. A man in bloodied chefs’ whites, his hands and feet bagged in plastic, was sitting, slumped, on his bed. He was holding his head and moaning. The police doctor was checking his blood pressure.
‘Mr Wills?’
The man lifted his head and stared at Amy, She could see from the vacant expression in his eyes that he was in shock. The police doctor shook his head, warning Amy off trying to question his patient.
Amy motioned to Sergeant Reece and Ben. They left the room and entered the living room, where three forensic technicians were working.
‘As soon as the doctor’s finished with Mr Wills, get him to the station. Search him, send hand and nail swabs and all his clothes to the laboratory.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Let me know when he’s fit for questioning.’
‘Yes, ma’am. We checked with the porter. Mr Wills entered the foyer at ten minutes to one. Constable Bradley found him here, with the corpse, at two minutes to one.’
‘Eight minutes,’ Amy mused.
‘Less,’ Ben observed. ‘It would have taken at least two minutes to get here from the foyer.’
‘Anything else?’ Amy asked.
‘Yes, ma’am. We found two bloodstained knives and a fork in the sink. I sent them to the lab.’
‘Fingerprints?’ Amy asked.
‘So far only Bruno Gambrini’s and Adrian Wills’s, overlaid by smudges, probably from latex gloves.’
‘I suspect that’s all we’re going to find.’
‘I’ve ordered an incident room to be set up in the conference centre on the ground floor. The porter told us it’s been locked since it was cleaned two days ago.’
‘Thank you, Sergeant Reece. If you need us, contact us there.’
Michelle Green updated Ben and Amy when they entered the conference centre. ‘No trace of Mrs Barnes has been found as yet, ma’am. This is a list of people living in the building, and, this is a copy of the statement I took from the day porter, Ted Levett.’ Michelle handed Amy two sheets of paper. ‘He confirmed Mrs Barnes left the building at 11.20 a.m. No one has seen her since. Officers are examining the CCTV tapes for the past twenty-four hours.’ Michelle pointed to a bank of computers set against the wall.
‘Have you told the doorman why we’re looking for Mrs Barnes?’
‘No, ma’am. Sergeant Reece said to keep it quiet.’
‘Has the area around the building been searched?’ Ben questioned.
‘Organised searches inside and outside the building are ongoing, sir. Sergeant Reece has placed officers at all entrances and exits. We’ve orders to hold anyone entering or leaving, until they, and their business have been checked out by him. Yourselves excepted, of course, ma’am, sir.’
‘How many entrances are there?’ Ben asked.
‘Four, sir. The foyer. A fire exit that opens into a closed yard at the back and vehicle and pedestrian access out of the underground garage.’
Ben looked at Amy. ‘Start with the porter?’
She nodded. They returned to the foyer and approached the desk. ‘I’m Inspector Amy Stuart, and this is Sergeant Miller.’
‘I’ve told the constable all I know, and signed a statement.’ Ted’s hands were shaking.
‘How long have you worked here, Mr Levett?’
‘Three months. Mrs Barnes got me the job. We were at school together.’
‘Do I know you, Mr Levett?’ Ben leaned on the desk.
Ted avoided looking at Ben. ‘Yes, officer. I went down for drug dealing?’
‘Really, Mr Levett?’ Ben queried. ‘I remember the charge as murder.’
Chapter Twelve
‘The charge was reduced to manslaughter,’ Ted protested. ‘I’m not proud of being a pusher. I only sold enough to finance my own habit. I didn’t know the “China”—’
‘You mean heroin?’ Amy interrupted.
‘Yes. I thought it was pure. I really did. I sold it on in good faith. Look, I admit, when I was hooked I’d steal anything I could lay my hands on to buy a fix, even my suppliers’ stash.’
‘And your supplier had poisoned stash,’ Ben said.
‘I thought it was good. Honest to God, I really thought it was OK. I would never have sold it otherwise. I got five years, came out in two and came out clean. Been clean ever since.’ Ted wasn’t looking for sympathy. Neither was Ben about to give him any.
‘When were you released?’ Ben watched the screens above the desk. All were connected to CCTV cameras inside the building.
‘A year ago. My family didn’t want to know me. I slept rough before I found a place in a hostel. Zee … Mrs Barnes, saw me selling The Big Issue. She got me this job and the flat that goes with it. I’ve a lot to be grateful to her for. If something’s happened to her—’
‘What makes you think something’s happened to her?’ Ben interrupted.
‘Police officers searching the building.’
‘Bruno Gambrini’s been murdered,’ Ben pointed out.
‘He and Adrian were always quarrelling and threatening to kill one another.’
‘You don’t seem particularly upset,’ Amy looked at him.
‘I hardly knew them. They usually leave the building before I come on shift and arrive back after I’ve finished for the day. I doubt I’ve exchanged more than a couple of words with them in the three months I’ve been here.’
‘Did you hear them quarrelling after Adrian arrived at ten to one today?’
Ted thought for a moment. ‘No, but if the apartment door was closed, I wouldn’t have. Constable Green was already here and taking my statement. She asked me what time Mrs Barnes left this morning. Mrs Barnes’s mobile is switching straight to answerphone. I’ve never known her to turn it off. Something must have happened to her. Please tell me what it is?’
Amy remained cool, professional. ‘Is anyone in Mr and Mrs Barnes’s apartment?’
‘No, Sara left shortly after Mrs Barnes. She’s their cleaner.’
‘How soon after Mrs Barnes left?’
‘About half an hour.’
‘Did Mr and Mrs Barnes know you had a record when they employed you?’ Ben probed.
‘I told Zee the day she saw me selling The Big Issue. When she persuaded Mr Barnes to meet me, I told him exactly what I’d done. I thought it only fair he knew who he was employing and inviting to live in the building.’
Amy studied the list of residents. ‘How many people are in the building now?’
‘The penthouse is empty. Mr Michael Barnes and his girlfriend Miss Anni Jones
came in shortly after Sergeant Reece and the police constables arrived. Their apartment is below Mr and Mrs Barnes’s. The next floor down is Michael Barnes’s and Miss Jones’s studio – they’re artists. The misses Leila and Mamie Barnes, Mr Barnes’s sisters, occupy the apartment on the third floor. Mamie’s in a special school; she has Down’s syndrome. Miss Leila is at one of her charity committee meetings. Then there are the chefs. The next floor down, the one above this, is the communal gym and swimming pool. As you see,’ Ted indicated a screen above the desk, ‘no one’s using it at present.’
‘What time did Leila Barnes leave?’ Amy took her notebook from her pocket.
‘About twenty to one. She told me about the committee meeting on her way out.’
‘You chat to the residents?’ Ben continued to monitor the screens above the desk.
‘We exchange friendly words. They’re nice people.’ Ted pointed to the roses in a glass on his desk. ‘Mrs Barnes gave me those. She left roses and Valentine cards for everyone outside their doors before she went out.’
‘She gave you two?’ Ben smelled them.
‘One’s for the night porter, Damian. He spends his days sleeping and writing books.’
‘You said you have an apartment here?’ Ben asked.
‘Damian and I have basement studio apartments,’ Ted confirmed.
‘There’s an underground garage?’
‘Below our studio apartments, for the family’s vehicles and Mr Barnes’s business vehicles.’
‘Why does a restaurant owner need vehicles?’ Ben frowned.
‘He has a central kitchen that bakes cakes and desserts. They’re frozen and shipped out to his own and other restaurants, and to gourmet food shops.’
‘Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary on the CCTV today?’ Amy moved alongside Ben.
‘No, but I wasn’t here all morning. I had to fix a leak under the sink in the studio.’
‘What time was that?’ Ben reached for his notebook and pen.
‘After Mrs Barnes left, because I was at my desk when she walked out.’
‘Time?’ Amy prompted.
‘I went up after the post had been delivered at half past eleven and came down about quarter past twelve.’
‘That’s when you found the box on the desk?’
‘Yes.’
‘You didn’t see who left it there?’
‘I knew it had to be someone in the building. I locked the doors when I went up to the artists’ studio, as I always do whenever I leave the desk.’
‘What if anyone wants to come in?’ Amy looked up from her notebook.
‘The residents have their own key codes. Visitors can press the intercom.’
‘You would have answered them?’
Ted produced a small box from under the desk. ‘This is a receiver for the transmitter in the intercom. I always take it with me whenever I leave the foyer.
‘If an officer comes looking for us, Mr Levett, we’ll be interviewing Michael Barnes and Anni Jones,’ Amy informed him.
‘The sergeant wouldn’t allow them into their studio or apartment. They’re in the conference suite.’
‘Are Michael Barnes and Anni Jones the only two residents in there?’ Amy checked.
Before Ted could answer, a piercing scream came from the conference centre.
The door crashed back on its hinges.
‘You’ll have to kill me first.’ A young woman rushed out, pursued by a young man and a constable.
Chapter Thirteen
The constable and young man managed to subdue the woman. They escorted her back into the conference suite. Amy and Ben followed.
‘Please, Miss Jones, calm yourself.’ The constable blocked the doorway.
‘You’re threatening to destroy five years of my work and you’re asking me to keep calm …’
‘Are you senior officers?’ The man demanded.
‘Inspector Amy Stuart and Sergeant Ben Miller,’ Amy introduced herself and Ben.
‘Your constables are threatening to smash my girlfriend’s sculptures. They’re preventing us from entering our studio. We have to deliver artwork to an exhibition. If we don’t, it could cost us our reputations, as well as a great deal of money,’ he raged.
‘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.’ r />
‘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 Davies is on her way to him with Irene Conway, the family liaison officer.’ Patrick ended the call. Amy switched off her mobile and looked through the glass panel. Michael was still shouting at Ben.
Ted’s voice was low, apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Leila. The police are searching the building. No one’s allowed into their apartments.’
Amy turned to see the porter talking to a well-groomed woman in her forties. She could have posed for a fashion magazine aimed at the middle-aged.
‘The police?’ Leila repeated. ‘What on earth are the police doing in the building?’
Amy went to the desk. ‘I’ll speak to Miss Barnes, Ted.’
Leila glared at Amy. ‘And you are?’
‘Inspector Amy Stuart. If you’ll join me in the conference suite, I’ll explain what’s happening.’
‘Join you?’ Leila repeated in disgust. ‘This is not your building, Inspector Stuart. You’ve no authority to issue invitations. I wish to go to my apartment. Now.’
‘I need to speak to you first, Miss Barnes.’ Amy opened the door of the conference suite. Ben was still trying to calm Michael. ‘Miss Barnes, if you’d sit down please.’
‘I don’t want to sit—’
‘For pity’s sake, Leila, don’t be your usual difficult self. Not with these people, or they’ll keep us here for ever.’ Michael snapped at his sister.