‘Red Comets. A student band from Kings College. I think they’re brilliant: the new Coldplay. I’ve given their CD to a few people.’
Tom didn’t hold out much hope that Ste Donahue would do anything for the band, especially as he had so many problems of his own, but he was secretly excited about Rob Holland. He’d sent Rob a copy of the CD and he’d promised to give it a listen; if anyone could give the band a leg-up, it was Rob.
‘If they’re so good why are they playing in this record shop?’ asked Stella, keeping her voice low.
‘They’ll get spotted at the Helter Skelter. The owner has incredible taste in music’
The band was playing an acoustic set. The lead singer’s voice was deep, rich and wistful; the guitars were haunting, filling the air with beautiful melancholy. Stella took a deep breath; she was surprised by the power and emotion of the music and the lyrics.
She turned to watch Tom as he gazed at the band with the same love and wonder as she experienced when she watched a fashion show. He turned and gave her a smile, his eyes b
right blue in the dimly-lit room.
She was suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. She had heard of love at first sight but this was something else. A moment of clarity, a connection between two people binding them together with more than mere physical attraction.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, moving closer to her side. As their bare arms touched she melted.
‘I think I like it here,’ she replied. She rested her head on his shoulder, unable to stop herself. It felt like the most natural thing to do.
She felt his arms drop to his side and carefully, cautiously, he took her hand.
‘Come on,’ he said quietly after the end of the second song. ‘I’ve seen them loads of times before.’
They walked back out of the basement and through the record shop. And against a rack of old LPs he kissed her, filling her with such a sweet light-headedness she thought she might float all the way back to Chilcot.
Although he was hiding it well, DI Sheldon was a little flustered. He was not at all used to sitting opposite such an attractive woman in the police interview room. In his line of work, it was usually street punks on GBH charges or pub brawls over money or women, not arson and attempted murder involving famous magazine editors and luxury goods companies. He knew he was lucky to be assigned the case and was desperate to make his mark. He wanted to join the Met within the year at the level of Chief Inspector.
He had spent the last three days making phone calls and talking to as many people who had been guests at the party as he could track down.
A joint investigation between police, fire and forensic services was pointing towards arson. The intensity of heat and burning around the kitchen door was almost conclusive that petrol, most likely diesel-oil fuel used in motorbike engines, had been poured through the letterbox.
The gravel approach to the Stables had been contaminated by rain and the water used to extinguish the flames and from the emergency vehicles that had turned up at the Stables so that the SOCO officers had found no useable foot or tyre prints.
‘I want to talk about your relationship with Cassandra Grand. I’ve heard from a number of sources it was difficult.’
‘We’d had a few disagreements,’ said Emma honestly. ‘But I didn’t hold anything personally against her. She’s my cousin.’
‘Is it true that you think she’s been trying to sabotage the success of your company?’
‘I’ve had my suspicions, but…’
‘You were heard arguing at around midnight during the party.’
‘We didn’t argue. Cassandra was upset. She’d been having a very difficult night and didn’t want to go back to the party. I said she could stay at my house and arranged for her to go out the back.’
Sheldon wrote something in his notebook before he spoke again.
‘Cassandra said you insisted she sleep at the Stables.’
‘She was upset and didn’t want to see anyone at the party. You know what fashion people can be like.’
‘Actually, I don’t,’ said Sheldon shortly. ‘How come you weren’t sleeping at the Stables? It’s within the Winterfold grounds.’
‘I was with Rob Holland.’
‘Is he your boyfriend?’
‘No. Not really.’