‘That was superb, darling,’ I said, sitting back with a satisfied smile. ‘Cognac?’
‘Please.’
As usual Gail stayed the night, and I was hoping that we might spend Sunday lazing around and doing nothing in particular. It was at times like that I tended to forget I was a detective.
At nine-thirty on that Sunday morning, while we were still in bed, the dream was shattered by a phone call. I disentangled myself from Gail and reached for my mobile, which, as ever, was never far away from me.
‘Good morning, guv. It’s Dave.’
‘Don’t tell me, Dave. You’ve arrested our murderer, but you’ve mislaid the phone number of the Crown Prosecution Service.’
Dave laughed. ‘I’d like to mislay the CPS altogether, guv. No, it’s about Cindy Patterson, Sharon Gregory’s crewmate. The incident room got a call from Ted Richie last night to say that the Patterson girl is at home today, but is flying off to Miami early tomorrow morning. She’ll be leaving home very early, like zero-five-hundred. Unless we see her today, we won’t get a chance to speak to her for another four days.’
‘Give her a ring, Dave, and tell her we’ll be there to see her this afternoon, if she’s free to see us. Where does she live?’
‘Feltham, guv. Richie said that she shares a flat with two other airline girls. I’ll pick you up at about two. Is that all right?’
I sighed. ‘It’ll have to be, I suppose.’
‘Work?’ asked Gail, as I cancelled the call.
‘I’m afraid so,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to see a ravishing air hostess this afternoon.’
‘Oh, have you indeed?’ said Gail apprehensively.
FIFTEEN
The door to Cindy Patterson’s Feltham flat was opened by a plain, leggy girl with straggly shoulder-length chestnut hair. She was casually dressed in a sloppy cream sweater and green leggings.
‘Hi,’ she said with a smile. She shot an appraising glance in Dave’s direction and swept her hair back behind her ears. Why do girls do that?
‘Cindy Patterson?’
‘No, I’m Liz, one of her flatmates.’
‘We’re police officers,’ I said. ‘We’ve arranged to have a word with her.’
‘Sure. Come on in. She is expecting you.’ Liz showed us into a comfortable but cluttered living room. ‘You’ll have to excuse the mess,’ she said, rushing around and gathering up magazines and items of female apparel that were spread over the armchairs and sofa. ‘We’re always coming and going at odd hours and never seem to have the time to clear up,’ she added breathlessly, before turning off the TV. ‘I’ll fetch Cindy for you.’
The girl who entered a few moments later was of medium height and her jet-black hair was gathered into an untidy ponytail. She was wearing a full-length cotton skirt and a green polo-necked jumper. ‘Hi! I’m Cindy.’
‘We’d like to talk to you about Sharon Gregory, Miss Patterson,’ I said, and told Cindy who we were and why we were there.
‘Oh, for goodness sake, it’s Cindy, there’s no need to stand on ceremony. And please sit down.’ She seated herself in an armchair and crossed her legs. ‘It was awful, hearing that Sharon had been murdered,’ she said. ‘We’ll miss her terribly. She was great fun to be with.’
‘From what we’ve learned about Sharon, it seems that she had quite a few lovers, Cindy,’ I began, getting straight to the point. ‘I’ll be quite frank with you: a number of witnesses we’ve interviewed have led us to the conclusion that she’d happily share a bed with anyone who asked her.’
‘They weren’t lying,’ said Cindy. ‘And I reckon that Miami was usually the place where she spent time in the sack with most of them.’
‘And you know this for certain,’ said Dave.
‘Sure do. There was one occasion when I’d asked her if she fancied a swim and she agreed to meet me on the beach ten minutes later. I got so annoyed when she didn’t show after half an hour that I left the beach and went up to her room. She was in bed with a man.’ Cindy wrinkled her brow. ‘Actually, they were on it rather than in it.’
‘When was this?’
‘It must’ve been a couple of months ago. Yes, it was the beginning of June. In fact, it was an incident almost identical to one that occurred a year ago.’
‘How did you get in? From what I know of hotel doors they can only be entered with a keycard.’
‘That’s true,’ said Cindy. ‘Anyway, there was a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door, a dead giveaway, that. But my room was next to Sharon’s, so I went along the balcony. It was a hellishly hot day and she’d left the doors open. It was no problem because we were on the fifth floor and there was only a low wall between the two rooms and I vaulted over it. I swim a lot and work out whenever I get the chance, so I keep myself in pretty good shape. Mind you, I did bark my shin,’ she added ruefully.