Private Lives

‘But you have an idea.’

He shook his head slowly, puffing out his ruddy, jowly cheeks.

‘I think it was someone who runs with that set.’

‘Which set?’

Another long pause.

‘I don’t want to get into this.’

‘Gilbert, you’re already in it. Help me out and lead me somewhere new.’

‘The party I met Amy at was thrown by James Swann. He has a crowd, a circle of friends. They’re tight with each other, go to parties at one another’s houses. They’re all influential, very rich.’ His confidence, his bluster was deserting him.

‘How did Amy know them?’

‘Through the parties. They have them once every couple of months. Sometimes it’s little more than a dinner party, other times it’s more lavish. Lot of pretty girls attend. Out-of-work actresses, models, students.’

‘Friends of the set?’ probed Anna.

‘Not exactly. They get invited there to pep up the party, show the men a good time.’

‘Prostitutes?’

‘Generally not. Not to my knowledge, anyway. I’m certain Amy wasn’t a prostitute.’

‘She wasn’t,’ said Anna, feeling defensive about the dead girl.

‘The night I met her, it was her first time at one of these parties. She’d been invited, recruited she later called it, by Johnny Maxwell, the society photographer. He gets attractive, discreet girls to the parties. Girls who know they can make the right sort of connections by going.’

‘How do you know Amy’s new boyfriend was part of the set?’

‘Because we went to a splashy big party at Swann’s country house together. The week after that she finished our affair, saying she’d met someone else. I’m certain she met him there.’

‘Do you know who it was?’

‘Anna, please.’ His face looked in genuine pain. ‘I had nothing to do with Amy’s death. Nor did any of Swann’s lot. And to be frank, I wouldn’t go suggesting they did. They’re powerful people.’

‘How can I speak to him?’

‘Who?’

‘Swann.’

Gilbert laughed.

‘You’ll be lucky.

She felt a surge of determination.

‘Maybe Andrew and his news team will have more luck.’

Gilbert downed his lemonade in one anxious swoop.

‘Bloody hell, you’re not going to let this drop, are you?’

‘No.’