Endpeace by Jon Cleary

Author:Jon Cleary
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

3

The Strand Arcade has had a chequered history. Over a hundred years old, it has thrived, been neglected, been refurbished, had a disastrous fire and been refurbished again. Now it resembles its original Victorian style, a quiet retreat from the brash streets at its either end. True, one or two of the brasher tenants have tried to jazz up its atmosphere, but the arcade usually wins out. There are no fast-food outlets, no CD or video stores, no discount houses: nothing bought here has ever fallen off the back of a truck. There are four floors to the arcade, with galleries running round in front of the shops and a clear uninterrupted view from the ground floor up to the vaulted ceiling.

A shoeshine girl, at work in front of a heavy padded chair such as one used to see in old-time barbers’ shops, was a reminder of times gone by. The occasional group of youths, passing by in their Nikes and Reeboks, looked at her as if she were some medieval craftswoman. What’s she doing, man? Shining shoes, for Crissake?

The Janus perfumery was squeezed between a nut-and-candy shop and a tea and coffee merchant’s. The owner with the sense of humour was not present. Behind the counter was an attractive dark-haired girl in a pink uniform that showed more cleavage than Malone wanted to see while he was working.

‘Miss Carpano?’ He showed her his badge.

She looked both puzzled and afraid, as if she had been expecting them. ‘Police?’

‘We just want to ask you a few questions about Dwayne Harod,’ said Kate Arletti. Malone had told her to do the questioning, on the premise that Sophie Carpano might respond better to a woman than to a man. ‘You are his girl friend, we understand?’

‘I was.’

‘Was? You mean you’ve broken up with him?’

Sophie Carpano nodded. She was wary of the two detectives, her eyes flicking from one to the other like two black beetles ready to take off. She was an averagely pretty girl turned into a beauty by make-up; Malone wondered if she’d peeled off the artificial face when she had been alone with Dwayne. She looked too good for him, a class above him; but that was taking them at, well, face value.

‘When did this happen?’

‘Why are you asking me these questions?’ She had picked up a perfume atomizer, was holding it as if it were a weapon. Malone grinned at the thought: he and Kate were going to be Maced with Chanel No. 5 or whatever.

‘You know that Dwayne works as a gardener for the Huxwood family, the media family? You know Sir Harry Huxwood was murdered three nights ago?’

Miss Carpano had very severe, natural eyebrows; the make-up artist, if there was one, had not been allowed to touch them. They came down suddenly in a frown that made her look older. ‘What’s that got to do with Dwayne?’

‘Nothing, we hope,’ said Kate. ‘We just wanted to check with you that he was with you on Monday night. Was

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