As if on cue, Kenny started barking loudly. Neuberger grimaced and turned away.
“Your garden is looking very overgrown,” he said. “Even in this weather, it needs a mow.”
“I’ve been meaning to put up a sign in the village to hire someone to look after it.”
“Not keen on getting your hands dirty yourself?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Why would I?”
“It’s cheaper to do it yourself.”
“I’m rich,” I said.
They both stared at me and then gave each other a look.
“How can I help you two gents?” Play nice, play nice.
“Just routine, Mr Forrest. We had a few loose ends to clean up.”
I smiled as best I could.
“We were hoping you might be able to tell us more about your previous interactions with Mr Patel?”
I cocked my head. Trying not to let the panic get to me. I was sweating now. My armpits wouldn’t be as interesting to me as Simon’s. Did I have a new fetish formen’s armpits? Oh no, this was going to involve having to look at some very weird porn sites to find out if it was a thing I was into. I didn’t have the time.
“Mr Forrest?” Maslin asked.
“Sorry, right. Um, I first met him a week or two ago at a hustings. Only for a minute. After that, I think … at the vigil for Jed Fulford. I never spoke to him, just saw him. Er, I think it was that night at Honningtons that I spoke to him again.”
Neuberger looked at me. “And no other interaction?”
I smiled sweetly. “Such as?”
“Never came across him on a dating app?” Neuberger checked his notepad. “Mr Patel had accounts with several. And several subscriptions to websites that made for interesting viewing for one of our constables.”
The smile was still in place. “I don’t use any of the dating apps, I’m afraid. I’ve no stomach for it.” Smile sweetly, Arden.
“I see. You’re sure your interactions with Mr Patel were that limited? You are friends with his fiancé, aren’t you? We understand you visited him the other day.”
“Not really, I barely know him. The fiancé that is.”
Neuberger pursed his lips at this. “So, you and Mr Anson aren’t friends?”
Were they back on the Simon-did-it bandwagon? “We know each other, obviously, but we’re not close.”
“Right,” said Neuberger. “And, you couldn’t give us an insight into his temperament?”
Was that not what I did in the car the other day? I gave Maslin a look. He looked back as if butter wouldn’t melt. “I only really know him in a professional sense. As in, he worked for me a few months back. Reliable, punctual. Hard worker. People in the village assure me he’s a nice guy.”
“Assure you?” Neuberger asked. “Because you barely socialise, is that correct? It’s what you told my colleaguethe other day.” He gestured to Maslin, who was staring at me. His vast body took up a large chunk of my dining room.
Sweat was running down my back. Simon was three metres away, and I was acting as if I’d barely met him. “We know each other,” I corrected myself. “But we’re hardly bosom buddies, is all.” Saying too much again. First, they ask if I’m hooking up with Riz, now they want me to dob Simon in.
Kennedy started barking again. I could hear him whining against the door and scratching.
Maslin turned around. “That dog okay? Seems agitated.”
“He’s fine, I need to take him for a run.”
