Private Lives

‘Heavens,’ said Gilbert, handing the photo back. ‘You really are a lawyer, aren’t you?’

Anna smiled politely. She had known all along he would deny the relationship; if Mandy Stigwood was right, he had kept his fling with Amy completely under the radar. Indeed, Anna only had Mandy’s word that there had ever been a relationship, and Mandy was what a judge might call an ‘unreliable witness’.

‘As you can imagine, Ms Kennedy, in my line of work I meet a lot of people. I’m generally good at remembering names and faces, though. I find it helps at election time if you keep things personal.’

‘So you do remember Amy?’ she pressed.

‘Possibly, yes. But as I said, in my line of work . . .’

‘She’s dead, Mr Bryce.’

‘So y

ou said.’

Anna laid the photo on the table so Gilbert could not help looking at it.

‘And you say you’re involved with the family?’

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘The inquest into her death was held the other week. It was an open verdict, but her family aren’t convinced it was an accident.’

She paused for a moment, searching his face. If the news had rattled him, he gave no indication.

‘I’m speaking to people who knew Amy, putting together her movements . . .’

‘So you think it was foul play?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Well I wish you the best of luck with it,’ said Gilbert, reaching for his drink. ‘But I still don’t see why you’d want to talk to me.’

He’s very clever, thought Anna. Much sharper than people give him credit for. He hadn’t specifically denied or confirmed that he knew Amy, leaving himself room for manoeuvre either way. Time to push a little, she thought.

‘I’m sorry to have to ask you these questions, Mr Bryce,’ she said. ‘But it has been suggested that you and Amy had an affair. My source wasn’t sure of the seriousness of the relationship, but was convinced that the two of you had been involved. Can you tell me if this is true?’

He looked immediately uncomfortable. Drawing a hand up to his neck, he rubbed it nervously.

‘Yes, I knew Amy. No, we did not have a relationship.’

‘How well did you know her?’

He shook his head.

‘Barely. Now that you mention it, I had heard that she had died. It was a terrible tragedy. But really, I hardly knew her.’

‘Did you ever sleep with her?’

He flashed her an angry, impatient look. ‘Really, Miss Kennedy, this is not the sort of thing I’m happy to discuss. I am a public figure, yes, but I am entitled to some sort of private life, am I not?’

She knew she was treading towards thin ice. For all she knew, Gilbert was a friend of Helen’s or Larry’s, and the last thing she needed was for him to voice a complaint.

‘I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m just helping a family come to terms with their grief. To help make sense of it all, if you like.’

‘It sounds more like you’re in the business of finger-pointing. Does Andrew Barton know the real reason you’re here?’

‘No.’

Relief softened his expression.