Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Wiping at her tears while opening the door wasn’t the only sign that Caroline had been crying. Wet spots dotted her pale pink sweatshirt. Her eyes were bloodshot, too.
“Sorry to disturb you,” Lily said. “I have this plate. It belonged to Mr Latham and… I know it’s silly but I can’t stop thinking that we have his plate. I’d like to put it back in his flat so I can stop thinking about it.”
“Oh.” Caroline frowned. “It’s locked. I don’t think anyone is supposed to go in there.”
“I noticed you didn’t give the police your spare key, so I thought I could use it quickly. Only to return the plate.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I did give it to them. They wouldn’t have been able to lock up otherwise.”
Lily frowned. “You directed them to Mr Latham’s key in his flat. You didn’t give them your copy.”
“Didn’t I?” She blinked a few times. “The entire morning feels like a blur. My brain isn’t working properly.” After patting her pocket, she pulled out the key on the yellow key ring. “You’re right. I have it here.”
“Could I borrow it for a few minutes so I can put the plate back?”
Her lips twisted, and she stared thoughtfully at the key.
“You could come with me, if you want?”
“No,” she said, seeming to recoil from the suggestion. “You go.”
Lily took the key and felt Caroline’s eyes on her as she opened the door to Mr Latham’s home. She hurried along the hall and made a beeline for the kitchen.
The living room was the same mess it had been, but there was a space now where Mr Latham had lain.
Not dwelling on that, Lily continued and set the plate on the kitchen counter.
To avoid raising Caroline’s suspicions, she couldn’t be longer than a couple of minutes. Even that would be stretching it.
What was she looking for?
Her eyes darted, searching out anything unusual. An eyebrow twitched as she registered the dog biscuits again. Why did he have dog biscuits? Maybe he took Pixie treats, like he did with the other residents.
Wandering back to the living room, her eyes went to the packets of biscuits, once again feeling the urge to swipe some. Smiling, she resisted. A picture frame on the shelf above caught her eye.
He did have family then. Would the woman in the photograph miss him? She didn’t exactly look happy about having her photo taken…
“What the heck…?” Lily muttered.
Not wanting to put her fingerprints all over the place, she pulled her sleeve over her hand to lift the photograph.
She stared at the picture of the familiar woman.
Shaking her head, she set it down again, and only then noticed the screws she’d spotted earlier weren’t where she’d left them.
She checked the entire dresser, but there was no trace of the screws.
Had the police taken them? Surely if they’d spotted them, they’d have had more questions.
Not necessarily, she told herself. Maybe they’d reached the same conclusion as Maria – Mr Latham had removed them himself in order to move the bookcase.
That was the most logical assumption.
“Lily!” Caroline called.
“Coming,” she shouted back, annoyed by the interruption. The urge to explore the flat was almost overwhelming.
In the hallway, she lingered by the small table and the pile of post, which Mr Latham would never get around to opening. Again, she tugged her sleeve over her hand, then flicked through the pile… bank statements, bills. Apparently, he liked to hoard them before opening.
Lily was about to walk away when a catalogue at the bottom of the pile stopped her. A knitting magazine wrapped in cellophane. She turned it over and clocked the address label.
Mrs Silverton. Who the heck was that?
“Is everything okay?” Caroline asked, sticking her head around the door.
“Yes. Fine.” Lily dropped the magazine on the table. It sent up a tiny puff of dust.
“It gives me the creeps even thinking about going in there,” Caroline remarked, taking the key from Lily to lock the door behind her. “I should give the key to the police, I suppose. At least let them know I have it and ask them what to do with it.”
“Probably,” Lily said, but her thoughts were elsewhere. “How often did you clean in there?”
“Just now and then. Why?”
Lily gave a small smile. “No offence, but I think you missed some spots when you were dusting.”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “I haven’t been in there for a while. He always waits until it’s bad and then gets me to come in. I told him it would be easier if I came more regularly, but he could be funny about it…”
“Right.” Lily was already moving to the stairs. “Thanks for letting me in.”
“Of course.”
With hurried steps, Lily descended the steps. Maybe she should have taken a moment to consider her next actions, but caution was never her style.
She knocked lightly on Gigi’s door, then waited, shifting her weight impatiently. At a noise inside, Lily leaned closer to the peephole, as though she might see in.
“I need to talk to you for a minute,” she said, certain Gigi was on the other side. “Can you open the door?”
At first, she only peeked out through a small gap. “I’m busy with work,” she said.
“I need to ask you something about Mr Latham,” Lily said.
“What?”
Lily leaned closer, lowered her voice. “Were you in a relationship with him?”
“No.” The word carried enough venom that Lily didn’t doubt it was the truth. “Why would you ask that?”
“Let me in,” Lily said. “Unless you want everyone in the building to hear this conversation.”
She seemed reluctant, but only for a moment. Then she opened the door wider and beckoned Lily in.
Pixie was curled up on the couch, fast asleep. The living room was cosy and quirky with an abundance of fluffy cushions in various pastel shades. A long-haired rug was like a fluffy cloud beneath the glass coffee table.
“What’s this about?” Gigi asked, sitting carefully beside Pixie.
Lily perched herself on the edge of a purple footstool on the other side of the table. “I saw a photo of you in Mr Latham’s flat.”
“Oh.” She lifted a cushion onto her lap and toyed with the embroidered butterflies.
“Did you have a personal relationship with him?” Lily asked.
“No.” She sighed heavily. “Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“I went on a date with him,” she said sheepishly. “It was ages ago. Not long after I moved in. I didn’t even realise it was a date. He said he liked to take new tenants out for dinner to get to know them. Which I realise is weird, but he seemed like a nice guy. I didn’t see the harm in it.”
“What happened?”
“Not much. We went for dinner. At the end of the evening, he asked me if I’d like to go out with him again sometime. That’s when I figured out his intentions weren’t only platonic.”
“Did you go out with him again?”
She shook her head. “No. I explained I wasn’t interested in a relationship and told him it probably wasn’t a good idea anyway since he’s my landlord.”
“How did he take that?”
“Fine. We agreed we’d be friends.”
Lily twisted her lips. “Don’t you find it unsettling that your landlord has a photo of you in his living room?”
“I guess it’s a little odd.”
“You don’t seem too surprised – or concerned.”
Gigi took a moment, then met Lily’s gaze. “I don’t think Mr Latham had friends. He could be intense, but I think he was lonely. His interactions with his tenants in the hallway might have been his only social contact. It’s sad, really, but I think he saw me as a genuine friend.”
“But the sentiment wasn’t mutual?”
“I passed the time of day with him in the hallway. To me, that’s not friendship, but…”
“What?” Lily asked.
“I found out I was paying less rent than other people. I put it down to him having a crush on me, so I guess I was friendlier with him because of that.”
“Did you flirt with him?”
“No, but if my rent wasn’t so cheap I don’t think I’d have had so much patience with him. Maybe that’s also why he thought we were better friends than we were.” Gigi set the cushion aside and sat up straight. “Do you know what happens with the ownership of the building?”
“I’m not sure. Once the next of kin are informed, they should deal with his estate. I guess your new landlord or lady will get in touch.” Sensing the conversation was coming to an end, Lily stood and moved to the door.
“I probably won’t be getting cheap rent any longer,” Gigi mused.
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Lily turned back at the door. “Do you know someone called Silverton? A woman. Mrs Silverton?”
“No. Should I?”
“Never mind,” Lily said. “Sorry to have bothered you.”