The Witch Elm - Tana French Page 0,28

me? but I really didn’t think Richard would want to get me into trouble, and anyway I was too muddled to be clear on what exactly I had done, I knew Tiernan and I had fucked up and got Gouger thrown out but—

“Ever bring home any of the art?”

“No. Never.”

“Any reason someone might think you did? Does anyone ever bring it out of the gallery? To show a buyer, maybe?”

“It doesn’t work that way. If a buyer gets a, a private viewing, it’s in the office. We’re not insured to carry the art around.”

“Ah,” Martin said. “The insurance lads; of course. Get their noses into everything. Never thought of that. Anyone at work that you don’t get on with?”

“No. It’s not that kind of place. Everyone gets on fine.” Or had, anyway, but—

“What about at home? Have you got anything valuable that they might have been after?”

“Um—” The barrage of questions was starting to disorientate me; he kept switching topics, and it was taking all my concentration to keep up. “I guess my watch—I have this antique gold watch that used to be my grandfather’s, he collected them? And I didn’t get like the, the fanciest one, because one of my cousins is older than me, Leon? he doesn’t look like it, but he’s actually . . .” I had lost track. It took me an agonizingly long time, while the detectives watched me with polite interest, to remember what I was supposed to be talking about. “Right. Yeah. I think mine could be worth maybe a grand.”

“Beautiful, those old watches,” Martin said. “I don’t like the modern stuff, all those Rolex yokes; no class. Do you wear it out and about? Would people have seen it on you?”

“Yeah, I wear it. Not always—mostly I just check the time on my phone? But if, for an opening or a, a meeting or . . . then yeah.”

“Were you wearing it the other night?”

“No. I mean”—meeting with Richard, a little extra gravitas—“yeah, I think I had it on that day. But then I probably, when I went to bed, it should be on my bedside table— Did they take it?”

Martin shook his head. “Couldn’t tell you for sure. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember seeing a gold watch, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.” The thought of these guys rummaging around in my apartment sent a twist through my stomach, and then a much colder and more urgent one: I had that hash, and—shit—hadn’t there been some coke left over from that Paddy’s Day party? But surely if they had been planning to give me hassle over that, they would have mentioned it by now— “How about your car?” Martin asked.

“Oh,” I said. My car hadn’t even occurred to me. “Yeah. It’s a BMW coupe—I mean, it’s a few years old, but it’s probably still worth— Did they take it?”

“They did, yeah,” Martin said. “Sorry. We’ve been keeping a lookout for it, but no joy yet.”

“The insurance’ll sort you out, no problem,” Flashy Suit told me comfortingly. “We’ll give you a copy of the report.”

“Where were the keys?” Martin asked.

“In the living room. On the, the”—word gone again—“the sideboard.”

He blew air out of the side of his mouth. “In full view of the windows, man. Ever leave the curtains open?”

“Mostly. Yeah.”

Martin grimaced. “You’ll know better next time, wha’? Did you have them open last Friday evening?”

“I don’t—” Getting home, going to bed, everything in between, it was all blank, a black hole big enough that I didn’t even want to get near it—“I don’t remember.”

“Did you have the car out that day?”

It took me a moment, but: “No. I left it at home.” I had figured that, whatever happened with Richard, I was going to want a few pints.

“In the car park in front of the building.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you drive it most days?”

“Not really. Mostly I walk to work, if the weather’s OK, save the hassle of parking in town? But if it’s raining or, or I’m running late, then yeah, I drive. And if I go somewhere at the weekend. Maybe two days a week? Three?”

“When was the last time you had it out?”

“I guess—” I knew I had stayed home for a few days before that night, couldn’t remember exactly how long— “The beginning of that week? Monday?”

Martin lifted an eyebrow, checking: You positive? “Monday?”

“Maybe. I don’t remember. Maybe it was over the weekend.” I got where he was going with this. The car park was open to the

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