Murder in Hampstead by Sabina Manea (read this if txt) 📕

hours and made up for all the time they had been apart. The evening disappeared in a haze of champagne and euphoria. By the end, they lay on the sofa, shoes abandoned on the floor. Walter had retired to bed. It was four in the morning, and they were slowly running out of steam.

‘We need a downer, Lulu. I’m too excited to sleep.’ Nina stood up and walked upstairs. A few minutes later, she reappeared with a small envelope.

‘Sleeping pills? They don’t do much for me.’

‘Of course they don’t. This is much better.’

Lucia opened the envelope. Inside was a sachet of white powder.

‘Don’t take too much – you’re not a horse. K always does the trick – it’ll take the edge right off, I promise,’ said Nina.

Before abandoning all caution, Lucia checked her phone. The screen glowed with news of a voice message. She listened to Carliss’s voice: ‘Just a quick one. Harding pulled Danny over for a traffic check. Nothing noteworthy in the van, just a box of donuts and some bananas for the boys. Not giving up yet. Hope you’re having a good time.’

Chapter 27

DCI Carliss stood outside the gates at Lygon Place, wondering if he should ring the bell or wait for Lucia. The building made it perfectly clear that entry was subject to a stringent selection process, and he wasn’t at all confident he would be successful. Lucia’s message had been oddly cryptic – an instruction to be there at nine sharp, to meet a friend of hers that could help. A heavy glass-panelled door swung open, releasing a Filipino nanny and her small charge, bundled out of sight in a comically oversized pram that emulated an age best left behind.

‘Are you ready?’ Lucia had crept up unnoticed. She had enjoyed watching him, for once out of his element.

‘Your friend has done well for herself.’ He was lost for words, not knowing what to expect.

‘Little Nina always falls on her feet. It’s genetic.’ Lucia pressed the bell firmly, and the gate clicked open. Nina stood waiting in the doorway, thrilled at the prospect of an adventure.

‘Come in, you two. You must be the mysterious inspector. You didn’t tell me he was this good-looking, Lulu. Well done.’ She weighed him up, as if she were deciding on a purchase in Harrods and shook his hand more vigorously than he had expected. ‘Nina Chanler.’ She was wearing a marginally less terrifying outfit than at the party – plain jeans and a ruffled shirt last seen on an Elizabethan pirate. The heterochrome eyes and manic corkscrew curls did little to put the newcomer at ease.

In broad daylight and emptied of the guests, the house looked less demi-monde lair and more estate agent’s catalogue, though the tastes it catered to were admittedly niche. It was spotlessly clean, no doubt thanks to the efforts of a small army of help. As soon as they sat down in the drawing room, a plainly attired but unmistakably uniformed butler appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, enquiring as to whether they would be taking tea.

‘Did Lucia tell you anything, Inspector?’ Nina evidently had news to share; she could barely contain herself. Nonetheless, she couldn’t resist prolonging the agony a little.

‘Not a thing.’ Carliss tried to focus on one eye at a time but the wallpaper was giving him a headache.

‘Typical Lulu. So secretive.’ She laughed at her friend, who grinned back. They knew full well they were playing up the melodrama. ‘We used to work together a while back. When she came by on Thursday, she asked me to look into something. I’m… how shall I put it? Best placed to uncover things about people who don’t want to be found out.’ Nina leaned back, one arm stretched over the velvet sofa. ‘But don’t for a second imagine I’m going to give it to you on a plate. I want in first.’

Carliss had no idea what she was talking about. ‘What do you mean, you want in?’

‘I want to be part of the investigation. Lucia has already filled me in on the background. I’m in a position to offer help that you’re unlikely to access elsewhere.’

‘Great. Another meddling civilian. I’m a bit desperate, so OK, you’re in. What have you got for me?’ replied the policeman, defeated.

Nina flicked her hair triumphantly. ‘Your man Glover was in Eastern Europe in the 1980s. I don’t yet know what he was up to or where he was posted, but I’ve been promised more information.’

‘How do you know? More to the point, who are you? I don’t like this at all. I know better than to meddle in areas closed off to the ordinary police.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m lucky enough to have a direct line to the Foreign Office. My mother was an ambassador, and she’s banked quite a few favours that she hasn’t called in yet. If you don’t believe me, you can look her up. Virginia Lexington.’

‘And the Professor? Don’t tell me she was a Russian spy. This isn’t a third-rate film,’ replied Carliss in disbelief.

Nina was offended. ‘It’s not a game, you know. These people do exist. And yes, since you ask. You should thank Lucia for having a good forage through that book the Professor had in the pipeline, otherwise I would have never known where to start. Her file is inaccessible, bar an unmarked photo. It’s almost certainly her, though we’re talking nearly forty years ago. No name, no personal details, nothing. She must have been pretty special.’

Carliss was out of his depth, and he knew it. ‘You know I can’t verify any of this. And what’s it got to do with her death?’

‘We know she can’t be Russian,’ interrupted Lucia. ‘Remember the badly written papers? And, if she was on MI6’s radar, they must have known she came to