Guns in the Gallery

‘But at the Private View, when she started bawling Denzil out, did that embarrass you?’

‘I was embarrassed for the girl . . . well, no, not embarrassed, sorry for her. She clearly had so much she needed to get off her chest. I wouldn’t be surprised if letting it all out made her feel a whole lot better. You know, like lancing a boil.’

‘You’re right, actually,’ said Jude, not expecting such psychological perspicacity. ‘That’s what she said to me afterwards. She’d planned that public denunciation of Denzil, and letting it all out had been a very positive experience for her. But then within a few hours, she apparently killed herself.’

Nikki shrugged. ‘That’s mental illness for you. Sad, but you can’t do a lot about it, I gather. Just bad luck, like being born ginger.’

‘That’s how Fennel described it to me,’ said Jude.

‘There you are then. Just an incredibly bum deal donated to you by your genes. I’ve been lucky. I may be a selfish cow, but at least, thank God, I’ve never had a negative thought in my life.’

Jude had frequently heard Carole make similar statements – well, without the ‘selfish cow’ bit – and she knew how at odds with the truth they were. And she’d have put money on the fact that Nikki Green’s carapace was equally fragile. But now wasn’t the moment for psychoanalysis.

‘I was just wondering,’ Jude began casually, ‘whether that diatribe of Fennel’s at the Private View was only aimed at Denzil?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it was very public, wasn’t it? I’d assumed the attack was aimed where it seemed to be – at Denzil. But at that stage I didn’t know she had also had an affair with Giles.’

‘Oh, I see what you mean. Killing two birds with one stone.’ The idea seemed to amuse Nikki Green. ‘I suppose it’s possible. If so, bad luck for Fennel, if she thought she was going to make either of those bastards feel guilty. Giles and Denzil have two of the thickest skins I have ever encountered.’

Again Jude wondered how true that was. From the intimate communications of her healing sessions, she knew that everyone had their vulnerabilities. She also knew that the more rigidly people tried to deny their fallibility, the more destructive those vulnerabilities could be.

And the genuine distress shown by Denzil Willoughby at the news of his mother’s death suggested that his skin was far from thick.

‘It’s a thought, though,’ said Carole. ‘Fennel Whittaker did say some pretty odd things that evening.’

‘So? She was mentally ill.’ Nikki Green said these words as though they put an end to the conversation.

‘She talked about someone “causing the death” of another person. If that was addressed to Denzil, do you have any idea what it could have meant?’

‘Pretty straightforward, I would imagine. She was intending to top herself and, when she did, she was saying it would be his fault.’

‘Yes, I suppose she could have meant that.’

‘I can’t see what else she could have meant.’

‘No, maybe not.’

‘Would the words have meant anything different,’ asked Jude, ‘if they’d been addressed to Giles rather than Denzil?’

Nikki Green looked genuinely puzzled by the question. ‘I can’t see how.’

Carole tried another approach. ‘Did you represent Fennel Whittaker as an agent?’

‘No. I wouldn’t have minded doing so. She was undoubtedly talented. But unreliable. It’s difficult to represent an artist who’s liable suddenly to destroy all her best work.’

Jude nodded, recalling what the girl had said about her violent reactions against her own paintings. Not to mention the torn-up watercolours by her body in the yurt. ‘Going back to what you were saying about Denzil’s mother . . .’

‘Yes.’

‘He seemed terribly shocked by the news of her death. Had she been ill?’

‘Hard to tell. Philomena was always a terrible hypochondriac.’

‘But did she live with Denzil’s father?’

Nikki Green let out a snort of laughter. ‘Not for a long time. Addison Willoughby has always been totally preoccupied with his work.’

‘Like his son?’

‘I suppose so, but in a different way. Addison’s full of bitterness.’

‘Denzil said that was because he’d never fulfilled himself as an artist, taken the easy commercial route.’

‘Yes, I know he always says that. And there may be a bit of truth in it. But I don’t think Addison’s route has been easy. That’s the last word I’d choose. He’s worked unbelievably hard to make a success of the advertising agency.’

‘And was it because he was a workaholic that the marriage didn’t work out?’ asked Jude.

‘Probably that had something to do with it. Philomena has lived apart from him for years. He’s got a big place in the Boltons. She has – or she had – a nice flat of her own in Highgate. And she was always telling Denzil how ill she was. I thought it was just her way of keeping control over him . . . but now she seems to have been proved right.’ The woman chuckled. ‘She’ll have to have the Hypochondriac’s Epitaph on her tombstone: “I told you I was ill”.’

‘You don’t seem very upset by the news of her death.’