Close to Death

‘Roderick Browne and Giles Kenworthy were both killed by the same person,’ Hawthorne said. ‘That’s been clear from the start.’

‘Well, it wasn’t Damien,’ Gemma insisted, still clinging on to him.

‘Why are you here?’ Dudley asked.

‘I’ve come to say goodbye,’ Damien faltered. He withdrew his arm. ‘I’ve handed in my notice at the agency. I’ve spoken to Felicity and she’s not coming back to Richmond anytime soon. She was my main client and I need a break anyway. This is all so horrible! I’m going travelling in Europe.’

‘Alone?’

‘With a friend.’

As if on cue, there was a movement at the door and the girl from the window appeared. She was in her twenties, fair-haired, wearing cut-off jeans and a shirt tied at the waist. ‘Claire and Lucy are watching Horrid Henry on TV,’ she said. ‘I’m trying to get them to quieten down before—’

She stopped, recognising Hawthorne and Dudley from the roof.

‘Those are the guys I saw,’ she said.

Gemma nodded. ‘It’s all right, Kylie. We know them.’

‘We haven’t met,’ Hawthorne said.

‘I’m Kylie Jane.’ She looked wary, keeping her distance.

‘Kylie’s coming with me,’ Damien said.

In fact, it had been obvious that they were together the moment Kylie had walked in. Hawthorne could tell from the way they looked at each other. They made an attractive couple.

‘You’re leaving Richmond?’ Hawthorne asked.

Kylie nodded. ‘I handed in my notice last week.’

‘We’re going to miss her terribly,’ Gemma said. ‘We still haven’t broken it to the girls. But it’s hardly surprising, given everything that’s happened. They’re both better off out of it.’ She glared at Hawthorne as if it was all his fault.

‘Well, before you go, I’d like to ask you a couple of things,’ Hawthorne said.

‘I don’t know anything about Giles Kenworthy,’ Kylie protested.

‘But you know a lady called Marsha Clarke who lives in Hampton Wick.’

Kylie stared. ‘What’s she got to do with anything?’

‘How is she?’

Kylie looked from Gemma to Tom, as if asking permission to speak. They were as puzzled as she was. ‘She’s better,’ she said. ‘They’ve allowed her to go home now. She was very worried about her cats.’

‘I’m sure she’ll miss you when you’re in Europe.’

If there was an implied accusation, Kylie ignored it. ‘I won’t be away for ever. And I’ve spoken to the charity. They’re going to make sure another volunteer goes round.’

‘What exactly are you on about?’ Tom asked.

Hawthorne ignored him. ‘Can you tell us what happened to her?’

‘She was attacked.’

‘You must know more than that, love.’

‘Sure.’ Kylie was annoyed by the way she’d been addressed but went on anyway. ‘I’ve been visiting Marsha for three years . . . ever since her husband died. She’s well into her eighties and she’s on her own. She’s a sweet old lady and she’s never done anyone any harm.

‘Every evening, during the summer, she walks down to the river and feeds the ducks. I used to take her lots of stale bread from the close when I went to visit her. She’s not the sort of person to ask for anything, but that’s something that gives her real pleasure.

‘So, a week ago, at around seven thirty, she was walking back to her house. She has a little terraced cottage at the end of Milton Gardens, which is near the park. She let herself in through the gate and someone hit her on the back of the head. They must have been waiting for her. The police say she was lucky her skull wasn’t fractured. She could have been killed!’

‘Do they know why she was attacked?’

‘It wasn’t a mugging. She had her handbag with her and the keys to her front door were inside, so it wasn’t a burglary either. They found a flyer from a political party stuffed through her letter box – the UK Independence Party. The strange thing is that nobody else in Milton Gardens got one and the party hasn’t been campaigning in Hampton Wick. And Marsha just happens to be the only black woman in Milton Gardens.’

‘It was a racist attack,’ Dudley said.

‘This happened the night before Giles Kenworthy was killed,’ Hawthorne added. ‘And he was a member of the same party.’

‘I don’t know anything about that, Mr Hawthorne,’ Kylie said. ‘The police called me and I spent half the night in the hospital. After that, I stayed in her home to look after the cats.’

‘It’s funny,’ Dudley muttered, almost to himself. ‘But why do I get the feeling that everyone in this room had a good reason to hate Giles Kenworthy?’

Damien stood up and went over to Kylie. He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘We don’t hate anyone,’ he said. ‘And Tom and Gemma have been nothing but kind to us. You’re the one who seems to know a lot about hate, Mr Hawthorne.’

Hawthorne smiled. ‘Well, I’ve met a lot of murderers,’ he said.

7

The taxi took them across Richmond Bridge and into St Margaret’s. Then it looped round, following the river back towards Petersham but on the other side. Dudley watched the scenery go past, but Hawthorne’s attention was fixed on his iPhone, which he was holding in both hands, watching a pulsating blue dot in the centre of the screen.

‘Turn left on Orleans Road,’ he instructed.