biscuits. But if I eat them, I'm prone to weight gain, my clothes cease to fit, I must purchase anew, and...Surely, you get the idea, yes? Abney Park Cemetery? Where's Abney Park Cemetery?"
"North London."
"North London?" He made it sound like Pluto. "My God. What was she doing there?
Was she mugged? Kidnapped? She wasn't ...She wasn't interfered with, was she?"
Isabelle thought that having her jugular vein ripped open was fairly well interfered with, although she knew that wasn't what Jayson meant. She said, "We'll leave it at murdered for the present. How well did you know Jemima?"
Not particularly well, as things developed. It seemed that Jayson had spoken to Jemima by phone but had actually only seen her twice since they shared no work hours and, truth to tell, nothing else either. He knew her more from these than from her actual person, he said. These turned out to be a small stack of postcards. Jayson drew them from a cubbyhole near the till, perhaps eight of them in all. They comprised the image that Deborah St. James had taken of Jemima Hastings, undoubtedly sold like other images from the collection at the National Portrait Gallery's gift shop. Someone had printed "Have You Seen This Woman" in black marker pen on the front of each card. On the reverse side was a telephone number with "Please Phone" scrawled above it.
Paolo had brought them in for Jemima, Jayson revealed. He knew that much because on the days that he worked and Jemima did not, Paolo di Fazio stopped at the shop anyway if he'd found more cards. This particular set Paolo had delivered several days ago, although Jemima hadn't been there to receive them. Jayson reckoned she had been destroying them as they'd been delivered, since more than once he'd found their shredded remains in the rubbish on the days when he himself worked.
"I think it was some sort of ritual for her," he said.
Paolo di Fazio. He was one of the lodgers. Isabelle recalled the name from Barbara Havers' report of her conversation with Jemima Hastings' landlady. She said, "Does Mr. di Fazio work nearby?"
"He does. He's the mask man."
"The masked man?" Isabelle asked. "What on earth - "
"No, no. Not masked. Mask. He creates masks. He's got a stall over in the market hall.
He's very good. He's done one of me, actually. They're a bit of a souvenir of ...well, more than a souvenir, really. I think he has a bit of a thing for Jemima, if you ask me. I mean, why else would he be scurrying in and out of the shop with postcards he's collected for her?"
"Anyone else come looking for her? On her days off when you were here, that is?"
Isabelle asked.
He shook his head. "Nary a soul," he told them. "Only Paolo."
"What about people she associated with, here at the market?"
"Oh, I wouldn't know them, dear heart, if there are any. There may be, of course, but as I've said, we worked on different days, so ... ?" He shrugged. "Paolo could tell you. If he will, that is."
"Why wouldn't he? Is there something about Paolo we ought to know before we speak to him?"
"Gracious, no. I didn't mean to imply ...Well, I did get the impression he watched her rather closely, if you know what I mean. He did ask about her, much like you. Did anyone stop in to the shop looking for her, asking about her, meeting her, waiting for her, that sort of thing ..."
"How did she come to be working here?" Lynley asked the question, turning from an examination of the Cuban cigars in the large display case.
"Job Centre," Jayson said. "And I can't tell you which one because they're all computerised now, aren't they, so she could have come to us from Blackpool, for all I know. We advertised the job with the centre and in she came. Dad interviewed her and hired her on the spot."
"We'll want to speak to him."
"With Dad? Why? Heavens, you're not thinking ..." Jayson laughed, then whoopsed and covered his mouth. He arranged his features into a suitably lugubrious expression. "Sorry. I was just picturing Dad as a murderer. I expect that's why you want to speak with him, isn't it? To get his alibi? Isn't that what you do?"
"We do indeed. We'll need yours as well."
"My alibi?" A hand pressed to his chest. "I have no idea where Ashley Park is. And anyway, if Jemima was there and it was during shop