The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,19

the back of one leg. She grinned at Jen. ‘You’re a bit early. I’m the only one up.’

Jen went through the door first. ‘Hi, Gaby. This is my boss. Inspector Matthew Venn.’

‘Well, you’d better come in. I’ll give Caz a shout.’

Matthew followed her into the kitchen. He thought Jonathan would have felt at home here; he would have loved the clutter of pans and jars, the mismatched furniture, the little pieces of art. A large painted wooden parrot hung from the ceiling and sticks of pussy willow had been stuck in a brown earthenware pot. Brightly coloured towels were draped from an overhead rack like a string of flags, but they stopped halfway. Matthew found the effect of the room disturbing, overwhelming. He would need to concentrate to think straight here.

‘Take a seat. There’s coffee in the pot.’ Then Gaby was gone. It seemed to Matthew that her mouth, scarlet with lipstick, remained in the room like the Cheshire Cat’s smile. He heard her call from the bottom of the stairs: ‘Hey, Caz. The cops are here. They want to speak to you.’

Jen had wandered over to the coffee pot and waved it in his direction. He nodded and watched her take a mug from a dusty cupboard, was ridiculously pleased when she rinsed it under the tap before filling it for him.

There was the sound of footsteps on bare floorboards, doors closing and a young woman appeared. Gaby followed her, shepherding her like a dog or a mother, then presented her with a flourish. It seemed everything was a performance for her.

‘This is Caroline, known to her friends as Caz. She’s the kind one who landed us with Simon. My landlady.’

Caroline was small and round with a button nose and huge spectacles. ‘Give it a rest, Gaby. Show a bit of respect. Simon’s only been dead for a day.’

Matthew felt that the interview was already slipping out of control. ‘Do you know that? Did you see Simon yesterday?’ He needed facts to hang on to.

Caroline shifted a pile of Guardians and Observer Magazines and sat on what looked like an old church pew next to the table.

‘He was here first thing, wasn’t he, Gaby? I left before you, but I heard him in the bathroom and we had a shouted conversation. Did you see him at breakfast?’

There was a moment of silence. ‘Briefly,’ Gaby said. ‘And I can assure you that he was still alive when I left.’ Another silence. ‘Shall I make toast for everyone?’ Now there was a hint of desperation in her voice. ‘Or would that be seen as a form of bribery and corruption?’

‘You can make toast for yourself and your friend,’ Jen said. ‘But we’d like to ask you both some more questions.’

Jen would do the talking. That had been Matthew’s decision. She was engaging and he’d decided the women might find her less threatening. Now, he thought that these women would be hard to intimidate.

‘Just sit down, Gabs.’ This was Caroline. ‘This is serious and we can have breakfast later.’

‘Yes, miss.’ But Gaby sat.

Jen looked around the table. ‘I’m very sorry that your friend died yesterday.’

‘No friend of mine.’ The words were muttered, barely audible, followed by a shocked silence. ‘Well, I’m sorry…’ Gaby fixed her eyes on the parrot. ‘I’m not glad he’s dead. Of course I’m not. But I’m glad he’s not living here any more.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Jen put down her coffee mug on a coaster that could have been made from elaborately knotted rope.

Gaby took a while to answer. ‘We were happy here before he moved in. We were close. It was fun. Then suddenly having this stranger in the mix, a bloke we scarcely knew, seemed to spoil everything. He was so tense, you know. Uptight. And that was contagious. The whole house felt different, unsettled.’

‘It was only temporary,’ Caroline said. ‘He already had plans for moving on. He was going back to Kingsley House, the hotel where he worked until the autumn, as soon as the season started. Besides, his rent made a difference. He wasn’t here out of charity. And he was a wonderful cook. All those amazing Friday night meals. You never complained about those.’

‘I was thinking of moving out.’ Gaby was muttering again. ‘I couldn’t stand it. I was looking for a place of my own.’

‘You never said!’

‘I’d complained about Simon enough, about the way he made me feel, but you wouldn’t listen, Caz. It was as if you cared more about