Not Dead Yet

100

Twenty minutes later, Roy Grace put the fish pie into the microwave, switched on the hob and placed the saucepan of peas on top. Then he took his Policy Book out of his briefcase and sat down on the sofa to update it. Humphrey entered into a life-or-death tussle with a squeaky stuffed elephant on the floor.

It was 12.30 a.m. and he felt wired. He picked up the Sky remote and clicked through the saved programmes until he saw the one Cleo had recorded for him on Gaia, and clicked on it.

Squeak-squeak-squeak, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Humphrey’s tussle continued.

He scooped his food on to a plate, put it on a tray with a napkin and cutlery, and a glass of Spanish Albarino from the fridge, and sat back down. For the next twenty minutes as he ate, tuning out the dog, Gaia’s life unfolded in front of him. From the modest house where she lived as a child on Brighton’s Whitehawk housing estate, to her first success at the age of fifteen on a television talent show, to her move to Los Angeles in her late teens, where she started off waiting tables, followed by an affair with a record producer who picked her up in a noodle bar on Sunset, and gave her her big break, cutting her first single with the same session musicians that had been behind both Madonna and Whitney Houston’s early recordings.

There were periodic close-ups of Gaia saying how important it was for everyone to treat the planet with respect. ‘I love you love me’ was one of her catch phrases for that message.

There followed vignettes of concerts she had performed around the globe. Grace grinned at one, in Munich, where she appeared in German national costume of a dirndl, holding an accordion, and knocking back beer from a gigantic stein. Then another in Freiburg, capital of the Black Forest, where she was kitted out in lederhosen. Then, suddenly, in a costume switch, she stormed on stage, in front of an enraptured audience, in a cloud of swirling dry ice, jumping right, then left, holding a hunting rifle, wearing a man’s tweed suit.

A bright yellow ochre suit with a loud check pattern.

Grace’s tray crashed to the floor as he grabbed the remote, and froze the image. He ignored the up-ended plate and his spilled wine glass as he stared, transfixed, at the screen. He wound it back some seconds, then let it play and then froze it again.

It was exactly the same fabric that had been found in the chicken farm. The same fabric that had been found at the fishing lake. He was certain.

Beyond certain.

Gaia was wearing it on stage, in front of him, on the Bavarian leg of her German tour last autumn.

He froze the image again, reached for his phone, and dialled Andrew Gulli.

‘Inspector Grace?’ he answered. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I apologize for calling so late but this could be important.’

‘No problem, Inspector, do you have any news for me?’

‘Well, this may sound a strange request,’ Grace said. ‘I gather Gaia often auctions off the clothes she wears at concerts, and gives the money raised to green causes. Is that correct?’

‘She’s very committed.’

‘I need to know about a yellow tweed suit that she wore at a concert in Bavaria last autumn.’

In a wry tone displaying rare humour, Gulli said, ‘You’re not going weird on me are you, Inspector?’

‘I’m not going weird on you, I can assure you! I need to know about that suit really urgently. It could be relevant to her safety. Would you by any chance recall if she put it up for auction?’

‘You wanna describe it to me?’

Grace gave him the details.

‘I’ll come back to you in the morning.’

‘No, I need you to come back to me tonight. If you have to wake her up, then apologize to her for me, but it is really urgent.’

‘Okay, leave it with me, Inspector.’

Grace continued to play and replay the scene. Fixated on the suit. Then he cleared up the mess on the floor and was just pouring himself another glass of wine when Gulli called back.

‘Inspector Grace, I just spoke with Gaia. This was a while back, you have to appreciate. But so far as she can remember, that suit was auctioned last fall, October or November. She seemed to think it fetched quite a large sum – more than usual.’

‘Thank you,’ Grace said.

‘Anything else I can help you with tonight? Have you made any progress on the chandelier?’

‘I have a Crime Scene Team and a Police Search Team working through the night.’

‘I appreciate your increasing the police presence around the hotel tonight,’ Gulli said. ‘But I’m minded to recommend Gaia flies back to Los Angeles tomorrow. I’m looking into flights.’

‘Wouldn’t you have an issue with the film schedule?’

‘Yeah, but her safety and the kid’s safety are more important.’

‘I’d appreciate if you waited for our findings tomorrow.’

‘I’m not happy with the situation,’ Gulli said.

To Grace, he did not sound like a man who was ever happy. But he didn’t tell him that. Instead he replied, ‘Then I guess my job is to make sure you are happy.’

‘I remain to be convinced.’

He ended the call, then immediately phoned Glenn Branson to update him about the fabric. Then he replayed the entire scene in the video again.

Thirty minutes later, when the documentary had reached Gaia’s first movie role, he fell asleep on the sofa.