You've got nice hair,' she announced at last to Jerry Waldegrave. It's like a hairstack.'
I suppose it is,' said Waldegrave and he smiled at her. She edged out again.
Another brief silence followed, during which Waldegrave fidgeted with the flowers, his eyes darting around the kitchen.
Can't believe it,' he said at last.
They heard the loud flushing of a toilet upstairs, a thumping on the stairs, and Leonora returned with Orlando at her heels.
Sorry,' she said to the two men. I'm a bit upset.'
It was obvious that she was referring to her stomach.
Look, Leonora,' said Jerry Waldegrave in an agony of awkwardness, getting to his feet, I don't want to intrude when you've got your friend here-'
Him? He's not a friend, he's a detective,' said Leonora.
Sorry?'
Strike remembered that Waldegrave was deaf in one ear.
He's called a name like a giant,' said Orlando.
He's a detective,' said Leonora loudly, over her daughter.
Oh,' said Waldegrave, taken aback. I didn't – why-?'
Cos I need one,' said Leonora shortly. The police think I done it to Owen.'
There was a silence. Waldegrave's discomfort was palpable.
My daddy died,' Orlando informed the room. Her gaze was direct and eager, seeking a reaction. Strike, who felt that something was required of one of them, said:
I know. It's very sad.'
Edna said it was sad,' replied Orlando, as though she had hoped for something more original, and she slid out of the room again.
Sit down,' Leonora invited the two men. They for me?' she added, indicating the flowers in Waldegrave's hand.
Yes,' he said, fumbling a little as he handed them over but remaining on his feet. Look, Leonora, I don't want to take up any of your time just now, you must be so busy with – with arrangements and-'
They won't let me have his body,' said Leonora with devastating honesty, so I can't make no arrangements yet.'
Oh, and there's a card,' said Waldegrave desperately, feeling in his pockets. Here … well, if there's anything we can do, Leonora, anything-'
Can't see what anyone can do,' said Leonora shortly, taking the envelope he proffered. She sat down at the table where Strike had already pulled up a chair, glad to take the weight off his leg.
Well, I think I'll be off, leave you to it,' said Waldegrave. Listen, Leonora, I hate to ask at a time like this, but Bombyx Mori … have you got a copy here?'
No,' she said. Owen took it with him.'
I'm so sorry, but it would help us if … could I have a look and see if any of it's been left behind?'
She peered up at him through those huge, outdated glasses.
Police've taken anything he left,' she said. They went through the study like a dose of salts yesterday. Locked it up and taken the key – I can't even go in there myself now.'
Oh, well, if the police need … no,' said Waldegrave, fair enough. No, I'll see myself out, don't get up.'
He walked up the hall and they heard the front door close behind him.
Dunno why he came,' said Leonora sullenly. Make him feel like he's done something nice, I suppose.'
She opened the card he had given her. There was a watercolour of violets on the front. Inside were many signatures.
Being all nice now, because they feel guilty,' said Leonora, throwing the card down on the Formica-topped table.
Guilty?'
They never appreciated him. You got to market books,' she said, surprisingly. You got to promote 'em. It's up to the publishers to give 'em a push. They wouldn't never get him on TV or anything like he needed.'
Strike guessed that these were complaints she had learned from her husband.
Leonora,' he said, taking out his notebook. Is it all right if I ask you a couple of questions?'
I s'pose. I don't know nothing, though.'
Have you heard from anyone who spoke to Owen or saw him after he left here on the fifth?'
She shook her head.
No friends, no family?'
No one,' she said. D'you want a cup of tea?'
Yeah, that'd be great,' said Strike, who did not much fancy anything made in this grubby kitchen, but wanted to keep her talking.
How well d'you know the people at Owen's publisher?' he asked over the noisy filling of the kettle.
She shrugged.
Hardly at all. Met that Jerry when Owen done a book signing once.'
You're not friendly with anyone at Roper Chard?'
No. Why would I be? It was Owen worked with them, not me.'
And you haven't read Bombyx Mori, have you?' Strike asked her casually.
I've told you that already. I don't like reading 'em till they're published. Why's everyone keep asking me that?' she said, looking up from the plastic bag in which she had been rummaging for biscuits.
What was the matter with the body?' she demanded suddenly. What happened to him? They won't tell me. They took his toothbrush for DNA to identify him. Why won't they let me see him?'
He had dealt with this question before, from other wives, from distraught parents. He fell back, as so often before, on partial truth.
He'd been lying there for a while,' he said.
How long?'
They don't know yet.'
How was it done?'
I don't think they know that exactly, yet.'
But they must … '
She fell silent as Orlando shuffled back into the room, clutching not just her plush orang-utan but also a sheaf of brightly coloured drawings.
Where's Jerry gone?'
Back to work,' said Leonora.
He's got nice hair. I don't like your hair,' she told Strike. It's fuzzy.'
I don't like it much, either,' he said.
He don't want to look at pictures now, Dodo,' said her mother impatiently, but Orlando ignored her mother and spread her paintings out on the table for Strike to see.
I did them.'
They were recognisably flowers, fish and birds. A child's menu could be read through the back of one of them.
They're very good,' said Strike. Leonora, d'you know if the police found any bits of Bombyx Mori yesterday, when they searched the study?'
Yeah,' she said, dropping teabags into chipped mugs. Two old typewriter ribbons; they'd fallen down the back of the desk. They come out and ask me where the rest of 'em were; I said, he took 'em when he went.'
I like Daddy's study,' announced Orlando, because he gives me paper for drawing.'
It's a tip, that study,' said Leonora, switching the kettle on. Took 'em ages to look through everything.'
Auntie Liz went in there,' said Orlando.
When?' asked Leonora, glaring at her daughter with two mugs in her hands.
When she came and you were in the loo,' said Orlando. She walked into Daddy's study. I seen her.'
She don't have no right to go in there,' said Leonora. Was she poking around?'
No,' said Orlando. She just walked in and then she walked out and she saw me an' she was crying.'
Yeah,' said Leonora with a satisfied air. She was tearful with me an' all. Another one feeling guilty.'
When did she come over?' Strike asked Leonora.
First thing Monday,' said Leonora. Wanted to see if she could help. Help! She's done enough.'
Strike's tea was so weak and milky it looked as though it had never known a teabag; his preference was for a brew the colour of creosote. As he took a polite, token sip, he remembered Elizabeth Tassel's avowed wish that Quine had died when her Dobermann bit him.
I like her lipstick,' announced Orlando.
You like everyone's everything today,' said Leonora vaguely, sitting back down with her own mug of weak tea. I asked her why she done it, why she told Owen he couldn't publish his book, and upset him like that.'
And what did she say?' asked Strike.
That he's gone and put a load of real people in it,' said Leonora. I dunno why they're so upset about that. He always does it.' She sipped her tea. He's put me in loads of 'em.'
Strike thought of Succuba, the well-worn whore', and found himself despising Owen Quine.
I wanted to ask you about Talgarth Road.'
I don't know why he went there,' she said immediately. He hated it. He wanted to sell it for years but that Fancourt wouldn't.'
Yeah, I've been wondering about that.'
Orlando had slid onto the chair beside him, one bare leg twisted underneath her as she added vibrantly coloured fins to a picture of a large fish with a pack of crayons she appeared to have pulled from thin air.
How come Michael Fancourt's been able to block the sale all these years?'
It's something to do with how it was left to 'em by that bloke Joe. Something about how it was to be used. I dunno. You'd have to ask Liz, she knows all about it.'
When was the last time Owen was there, do you know?'
Years ago,' she said. I dunno. Years.'
I want more paper to draw,' Orlando announced.
I haven't got any more,' said Leonora. It's all in Daddy's study. Use the back of this.'
She seized a circular from the cluttered work surface and pushed it across the table to Orlando, but her daughter shoved it away and left the kitchen at a languid walk, the orang-utan swinging from her neck. Almost at once they heard her trying to force the door of the study.
Orlando, no!' barked Leonora, jumping up and hurrying into the hall. Strike took advantage of her absence to lean back and pour away most of his milky tea into the sink; it spattered down the bouquet clinging traitorously to the cellophane.
No, Dodo. You can't do that. No. We're not allowed – we're not allowed, get off it-'
A high-pitched wail and then a loud thudding proclaimed Orlando's flight upstairs. Leonora reappeared in the kitchen with a flushed face.
I'll be paying for that all day now,' she said. She's unsettled. Don't like the police here.'
She yawned nervously.
Have you slept?' Strike asked.
Not much. Cos I keep thinking, Who? Who'd do it to him? He upsets people, I know that,' she said distractedly, but that's just how he is. Temperamental. He gets angry over little things. He's always been like that, he don't mean anything by it. Who'd kill him for that?