Page 67 of The Dead Come to Stay
Beside him, Green smiled toothily. “We’ll be sure to search thewholehotel,” she said. “Your boss Evans should like that.”
Arianna narrowed her eyes. “Look. I have to resist or I wouldn’t be doing my job—and I like my job. But yes, you can have the bloody key. I don’t even know what’s in there.”
MacAdams took it from her. A twist in the lock and the door sprung open.
Inside was a pale pink gown of silk, a fitted jacket in white and a dappled scarf of pink and red and blue.
“And... shoes again,” Green said. She pulled a glove from one pocket and used it to pick up a pair of wedge heels. “I’m no expert. Are these as fancy as Foley’s?”
“Those are J’Adior pumps from DIOR,” Arianna said.
“Expensive?” MacAdams asked.
“Oh yes,” she said. “What’s that?” Arianna pointed to a white envelope near the bottom. MacAdams borrowed Green’s glove and lifted it out.That,it turned out, was fifteen hundred pounds in cash... and a necklace.
“Well, well, boss. I think I know what the earrings were for,” Green said, indicating the chain. The pendant displayed the same open design, like a little golden basket of delicate filigree. MacAdams watched its half-moon shape, studded with rubies, glint in the light. Then he turned back to Arianna.
“In fact, wewillget a search warrant. I want to see inside each of these. And I want the names of who uses them,” he said.
Arianna pointed a painted nail at the bills poking out from the envelope.
“It’s not the first client we’ve had who likes to keep cash,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Perhaps not. Butthisis a Syrian artifact,” MacAdams said of the pendant. “And I want to know who else keeps antiquities in their lockups.”
“What are youtalkingabout?” Arianna demanded, but MacAdams wasn’t finished.
“You saw this woman, on more than one occasion. Today, you have seen her up close. I’m calling in a sketch artist and I want you to give them every detail. Understood?” Perhaps it was his tone, or the urgency with which he ordered the sketch artist over the phone, but Arianna seemed to be having a crisis of faith.
“Is she dangerous? Isshethe murderer?” She flashed a look at Green. “I thought you left Newcastle to get away from this sort of mess.”
Green’s face remained impassable. “Is that whyyouleft?” she asked.
Arianna dropped her gaze. “I left for a promotion in hospitality—”
“In Abington. How convenient.”
“I went where there waswork,” Arianna snapped back.
Green tilted her head, as if to recapture direct eye contact.
“I guess that makes two of us,” she said, voice flat, placid, yet also white-hot.
MacAdams cleared his throat. “Lock it back up until forensics gets here. They’ll bag it for the station. And you have my number if the woman returns.” He put one hand very loosely against Green’s clavicle and steered her toward the door. She went without remonstrance, but the tension didn’t lift until they were back outside.
“Before you say anything, she and I were never,everan item,” she said.
“I wouldn’t dare suggest it.”
“Good.” She seethed a moment, then took a long breath. “What do we do next?”
“Repeat the procedure,” MacAdams said. “Foley’s image turned up Tula. We’ll get a composite image and post it here and in Newcastle. Did you notice anything about what’s in the locker?”
“Bit fancy for Abington.”
“Fancy like Foley’s last outfit. Minus the bespoke shoes.” MacAdams headed to the car, already rearranging the incident board in his head.
***
