The Art of Murder Read Free Page A

to a region just below his lower lip, then looked away towards the huge canvases on the far wall.
    Pendragon nodded. ‘When did you last see him alive?’
    Price turned back and seemed to unwind a little. Hetook a deep breath and then a sip of the hot tea. ‘Last night, at the private view.’
    ‘Can you talk me through it?’
    ‘It was a Luke Martin retrospective – these big canvases?’ And he nodded across the room to a wall-sized expanse of turquoise. ‘Some of the crasser journalists call him the “English Mark Rothko”. Absurd, of course.’ He sniffed and took another sip of peppermint tea. ‘Anyway, it was a great success. The hacks claimed they loved it. We even had a couple of young royals here – admittedly from the wrong branch of the tree,’ he added with a wave of his hand. ‘A sprinkling of rock stars, old and young, and Casper Hammond popped in, en route to his hotel, straight off the plane from Hollywood … apparently. Best of all, everything was sold by nine o’clock.’
    ‘And Mr Berrick?’
    Jackson Price looked back at his tea, suddenly quiet. For a few moments it had seemed as though he had slipped into an alternate reality, one in which nothing terrible had happened. Now he was back confronting the grim truth. ‘Oh, Kingsley was in a fabulous mood,’ Price said quietly. ‘He was terribly nervous earlier in the evening. But he always was a worrier. If I told him once, I told him a thousand times that worrying would be the death …’
    ‘Mr Price, did Kingsley Berrick have any enemies?’
    ‘Enemies?’ Price shook his head. ‘The very idea is simply preposterous, Chief Inspector. Everyone loved Kingsley.’
    Pendragon decided to change tack. ‘Did you see him leave last night?’
    ‘Yes. As a matter of fact, I did. It was late … must have been oh, let me see … one o’clock? There were only a few of us still here. He left with Norman.’
    ‘Norman?’
    ‘Norman Hedridge, Kingsley’s partner. Well, ex-partner. They’re still friends, but no longer an item.’
    ‘I see. And did Mr Berrick say where they were going?’
    ‘Home.’
    ‘And who remained behind with you?’
    Price looked down at his cup again and took another sip before answering, ‘Chester and Selina. Yes, that’s it. Just the three of us.’
    ‘Then?’
    ‘Well, we stayed and chatted for a bit. Selina left before Chester. I set the alarm and went home.’
    ‘Can anyone verify your movements after you left?’
    Price looked startled for a moment. ‘My mother was still up. I live with her.’
    ‘She stayed up that late?’
    ‘She’s a worrier too.’
    Pendragon paused for a beat. ‘So how did the cleaner get in?’
    ‘The cleaner?’
    ‘The East European woman.’ Pendragon paused for a second to recall her name. ‘Helena Lutsenko.’
    ‘Oh, right.’ Price took a sip of tea. ‘A couple of students live over the gallery. We pay them to let the cleaner in and out twice a week. I don’t normally surface till at least ten.’ He smiled for the first time, a big white slash across his face. ‘Surely you don’t think the cleaner … ?’
    Pendragon ignored this. ‘I’m grateful. It must be aterrible shock for you. We will need to have a much more in-depth talk later … you understand?’
    Price stared at him with his blank expression again. It looked as if he were about to say something, but then thought better of it. Opting to nod instead, he turned back to his tea.

Chapter 6
    Pendragon walked into the corridor and headed for the gallery’s kitchen. Mackleby and Grant were there with Tom Seymour and Helena Lutsenko. ‘We’ll need you both to come to the station to give a detailed report,’ Pendragon said to the witnesses. Helena looked alarmed, but Tom Seymour simply nodded.
    ‘I’ve called into work to tell them I’ll not be in this morning,’ he said.
    ‘Good. Inspector Grant and Sergeant Mackleby here will escort you to the station …’
    ‘But, sir, I do nothing!’ Helena