‘Of course,’ the woman said with a sophisticated American accent that spoke of good education. ‘Tilda Dent,’ she added, holding out her hand. Kelly wasn’t well versed in American dialects, but she knew it was Eastern Seaboard. It wasn’t quite NYPD, but equally it didn’t sound old South either. More New England. Kelly took her hand and they shook. A waft of expensive perfume drifted towards Kelly’s nostrils and a silky-smooth handshake indicated a luxurious beauty regime. Tilda’shandshake was what Kelly expected from a successful predatory female in business. Her suit was impeccably tailored, her hair shone like honey, and her jawline was tapered away from her face a little too smoothly. Tilda was the type of woman to wear a beautiful scarf, but not a common type like the one found in Jamie’s room. Kelly couldn’t work out her age, but it was irrelevant, as if these people were ageless and androgynous, all some kind of automatons working for a money-god in the sky. Kelly recalled meeting people in the city of London with a similar kind of atmospheric fog around them.
The elite.
Millionaires were solast year.These were the billionaire jet-set who were untouchable. The knowledge sent a teeny tingling sensation down her spine.
The other VIP, in the cream suit, was introduced as Hank Hampton. She was aware that she was likely sitting opposite more money than she could ever imagine but she reminded herself that they were just people, and part of her investigation.
Despite their status, they must breathe the same air and worry and smile and cry like everybody else.
But there was something about Tilda Dent that indicated to Kelly that she was the trickier character of the two. It was in the way she sat, and hogged the conversation, speaking over the man, who was more relaxed. He possessed old-fashioned Texan manners. A gentle giant in a cream suit and white beard, with big hands, who called her ma’am. Hank smiled broadly and Kelly was reminded of an old movie actor, like one her mother used to rave about, before her time. Charlton Heston or Gregory Peck. His voice took up space and she recognised it from the video footage.
‘What do you think of the Lake District?’ she asked him.
‘It’s beautiful, ma’am. Small, but pretty.’
She had her ID of the man speaking in the video. Hank Hampton’s voice was unmistakable.
‘What brought you all the way over here?’
‘Jamie was an important part of the future; he’ll be sorely missed.’
They locked eyes. He hadn’t answered her question.
‘We’ve got a place near here called Dow Bank House. We have interests in the Lake District, but this is the first time I’ve been.’
Kelly assumed it was something to do with making big money that kept a poker face intact. Regardless of the reason behind it, it was impressive. She couldn’t read him. She knew that Dow Bank House was near Grasmere and was more like a castle than a meeting venue.
‘Jamie was a happy guy. Everything at his feet,’ Hank added.
‘Everything to live for?’ Kelly asked.
Hank nodded. Tilda smiled. It was forced.
These were successful people, and Jamie was one of the star players. It went some way to explaining why the heavies were here but neither showed real emotion; perhaps they were incapable of it. She glanced over at the largest of the bodyguards to find him staring at her again. Mercedes man looked away first.
A picture of Jamie as a highly driven and well-liked individual was presenting itself to her and she was inclined to agree with Ted that the case needed more investigation. But it also indicated what was at stake here. These people had travelled across an ocean, to a backwater in the middle of the Lake District, for what? Only one thing brought so many hustlers together, and that was money.
‘He was running a health conference,’ Hank said.
‘What were you selling?’
It was crass and she knew it, but she must put witnesses under pressure to see into their realities. Hank smiled. It was wide, charming and very white.
‘Our product is chemicals.’
Hank reiterated what most other witnesses had said.The conference had gone well, nobody noticed Jamie missing for a long period of time, nobody else was missing, there were no obvious squabbles, and it all happened so quickly.She thought of the smashed glass and the purple scarf and suspected differently.
‘Chemicals at a health conference?’
‘I’m not a scientist,’ Hank said.
‘Are you?’ Kelly asked Tilda Dent, who snorted.
‘I think I heard him holler,’ Hank added.
‘Jamie?’
‘The atrium was busy; we were in between speeches and dinner. The noise was like a cry, a warning, an appeal.’
