Game Over Read Online Free PDF Page A

in?’
    ‘I have my own key,’ she said.
    ‘You have your own room there?’
    ‘Not that, exactly. I don’t keep any stuff with him any more – that’s all in New York. But somehow, wherever Dad lives is still “home” to me.’
    ‘Does anyone else have a key that you know of?’
    She shook her head, but a faint colour touched her pale face. ‘I don’t know for sure, but he might have given one to Candida.’
    ‘Candida?’
    ‘You don’t know about her? She’s his . . . girlfriend? Mistress? I don’t know what the proper term is. I’m not being censorious,’ she added with a frank look. ‘I don’t mind about her, honestly. Why should I? Mummy’s dead, and anyway she left him long before that. He’s entitled to a life of his own. I just don’t know how you would classify her. Candida Scott-Chatton. I expect you know who she is?’
    Atherton anticipated Slider’s ignorance. ‘She’s the head of the Countryside Protection Trust and a spokesman on ecological matters.’
    Emily Stonax looked at him. ‘And a journalist.’
    ‘Yes, I’ve heard of her,’ Slider said, who actually had – and had seen her on television, round about the time of the Countryside March. Tall, blonde, aristocratic, gorgeous. And hard as nails – as he supposed she’d have to be with such a thankless brief. ‘Do you have an address for her?’
    ‘Ten, Hyde Park Terrace,’ she said promptly. ‘It’s just off Queen’s Gate, near the Albert Hall. I think she and Dad were quite close. I mean, she stuck by him after that business last year?’ The sentence ended on an upward note as she looked to see if Slider understood the reference. He nodded. ‘I suppose someone will have to tell her,’ she added, faltering.
    ‘We’ll do that. Unless you’d rather . . .?’
    ‘No. God no. I don’t want to have to tell anyone – is that normal?’
    ‘It’s normal not to want to put it into words.’
    ‘That’s what it is,’ she said eagerly. ‘If I say it, it will make it real. Luckily there’s no family to speak of. Since Mummy died, it’s just the two of us.’
    ‘So, no other keys that you know of?’
    ‘No. He wouldn’t have handed them out. I don’t even know that Candida had one, really. Dad was quite safety-conscious. I mean, there were locks on all the windows and a deadlock on the door.’ She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘The door was closed when I got there and there was no damage to it. I mean, someone didn’t jemmy their way in. Is that why you’re asking about keys? That policewoman I spoke to said it was a burglary. Is that what you think it was?’
    ‘His wallet and watch seem to be missing. His pockets were empty, and they haven’t been found anywhere else in the house.’
    ‘Someone killed him and went through his pockets?’ Tears jumped into her eyes for the first time. ‘They killed him for that ?’
    ‘We don’t know if anything else is missing. The flat is very tidy and there’s no sign of any disturbance.’
    ‘Yes, Dad was always very tidy.’ She wiped the wetness from below her eyes. ‘He gave me a hard time in my teenage rebel years. But it was a good lesson to learn.’
    ‘Do you know if he kept anything valuable about the house?’
    ‘Well, the paintings and bronzes were quite valuable, and those little Etruscan figures on the mantelpiece.’
    ‘They’re still there.’
    ‘I don’t think he ever had much cash about him – he preferred cards, like I do. He wasn’t the sort to have envelopes full of tenners in a shoe box in the wardrobe, if that’s what you mean.’
    ‘Did he have a safe on the premises?’
    ‘I don’t think so. He’s never had one to my knowledge. But I suppose he might have had one put in recently and not told me about it. It wasn’t something that would ever come up in conversation.’
    ‘Later, when the forensic teams have finished, I’d like you to come back to the flat, if you will, and look around, see if you can tell if anything’s