‘Y – no – look, right after Daddy won it from Peter, Peter and Veronica died! So you’d think he’d’ve g-given the nef back to Rupe, if not when he was a child, then when he needed money so badly! But he d-didn’t – his own godson! How c-could he c-call the police on him?’
Because he’d nicked his bloody silver, was Strike’s unsympathetic thought, but aloud he said,
‘He had a drug dealer after him too?’
‘Yes, but that was all Zac’s fault!’
‘Who’s Zac?’
‘Rupe’s housemate – he got mixed up in drugs, in coke, and there was this proper, real gangster after him, because Zac hadn’t paid what he’d promised, or something, and Zac ran for it, his parents got him a job out in Kenya, and Rupe got stuck with Zac’s rent and security deposit and then this awful dealer was pursuing Rupe for payment of Zac’s debt, threatening him—’
‘D’you know what the drug dealer’s name was?’
‘They called him Dredge, I don’t know his real name. He was literally threatening to kill Rupe unless he got his money, because he thought Rupe was rich, like Zac, but he’s not – there’s hardly anything left in his trust fund, he could barely cover all the outstanding bills Zac left him with, because his aunt and uncle used nearly all the money left by Rupe’s parents to send him to a b-boarding school near Zurich he loathed – and then my father sacked him from D-Dino’s, and that’s why he took the nef, because he was desperate! I wanted to help him out financially, but he refused, because he knew people were saying he was only with me for my m-money!’
Strike strongly suspected there were things he wasn’t being told. Fleetwood seemed to have had no scruples about brazen theft, so it seemed unlikely he’d refused a loan or a gift of money from his girlfriend. Strike thought it far more likely that the young man had shown a token reluctance to let Decima help him pay off the dealer, trying to maintain the fiction that he loved her for herself, and assuming that she’d continue to press the offer. When she’d taken him at his word, he’d turned to other ways of cashing in on the wealthy Longcasters.
‘OK,’ said Strike, turning a page in his notebook. ‘When’s the last time you saw Rupert?’
‘On S-Sunday the fifteenth of May,’ said Decima thickly, groping again for the red diary. ‘I c-cooked him dinner. He was r-really worried about Dredge coming for him, and about being unemployed, with the baby coming. So, you see, don’t you?’ said Decima, her eyes imploring. ‘He must have taken the nef to that shop, Ramsay Silver, and they agreed to take it, but they c-couldn’t let him have the money until they’d found a buyer! And then Ramsay Silver had a vacancy, and Rupe t-took it, just to have some money coming in! He’ll have thought, once the nef was sold, he could get Dredge off his back, and stop being William Wright, and come back to me! B-but then Dredge must have tracked him down and k-killed him!’
This was the first time Strike had ever met somebody who wanted an assurance their loved one was dead, rather than alive. This, he supposed, was the most extreme manifestation of a phenomenon with which he was only too familiar: a woman absolutely refusing to accept that her partner wasn’t what she thought him.
‘When did you last hear from Rupert?’
‘On the t-twenty-second of May… we talked on the phone. He was moving out of his house that weekend, so we d-didn’t talk for long… we – we—’
Sobs overcame her once more. Strike drank more of his now cool coffee. At last Decima said,
‘We argued. I wanted Rupe to j-just give the nef back to Daddy, but he refused, which wasn’t like him, he wasn’t usually like that, at all – he just told me it was his and he was keeping it! So you see’ – her voice rose to a wail – ‘it’s my fault, what happened! It’s my fault he went to Ramsay Silver! He thought he had nobody on his side, he was desperate… and then he was k-killed! His phone’s dead, his social media stopped – I went to the police, I was frantic with worry, and they didn’t get back to me for weeks, and in the end they told me R-Rupe’s in New York, which is just ridiculous, he’s not, I know he’s not!’
‘Why do the police think he’s in New York?’
‘They took his aunt’s word for it! She c-claims Rupe rang her on the twenty-fifth of May and told her he’d got a job there, but that’s ridiculous, he doesn’t know anyone in New York, what would he do there?’
‘What’s Rupert’s aunt’s name?’
‘Anjelica Wallner. She’s an awful woman, Rupe hates her! That’s what’s so ridiculous – he wouldn’t tell Anjelica anything!’
‘Have you spoken to Mrs Wallner yourself?’
‘Yes, but she just shouted “he’s in America!” and told me to stop p-pestering her! Rupe… well, he hadn’t told her we were together… she hates my father, or something…’
‘What about Rupert’s other relatives? Friends?’
