Giash Chakrabati had been instructed to drive François Fabron to the hospital and wait there until he was fit to be taken back to the station for questioning. Tim and Juliet were surprised to see Giash’s car turn into the station just before they themselves reached it. Tim had thought it likely he’d be detained by a wait at the hospital of many hours and that Fabron might be declared unfit for questioning at the end of it – or himself engineer such a diagnosis.
‘I’d let them get settled before we set up the interview,’ said Juliet. ‘We don’t want to spook him.’
‘Fine,’ said Tim, who had been about to leap out of the car. ‘We’ll give them a few minutes. You could call Jake Fidler while we’re waiting.’
He stared at Juliet beadily. She looked uncomfortable and flushed scarlet. Tim was immediately repentant.
‘Sorry, that was unfair of me. None of my business, but has Jake Fidler become your “significant other”?’
‘You’re right, it is none of your business; but since I know you won’t let it rest until I tell you, the answer is ‘maybe’.’
‘Right. That does sound like telling me to mind my own business.’
‘Guilty conscience. I mean what I say: I’m not sure.’
‘Right,’ said Tim again. It was on the tip of his tongue to mention Juliet’s previous girlfriends, but he thought better of it. ‘I can see you won’t want to call him while I’m sitting here.’
‘Correct,’ said Juliet crisply. ‘Shall we go in now?’
François Fabron was skinny to the point of emaciation. Swarthy-skinned, he had a pointed, rather crow-like face and jet-black hair which was thick and greasy and fell in an untidy cowlick over his eyes. The eyes themselves were his finest feature: large and soulful, they were a deep nut brown. He fixed them on Tim dejectedly as he entered the interview room and half stood when he saw Juliet.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Fabron. Please don’t get up,’ said Tim. ‘You’ve had quite an ordeal. I hope you’re feeling better now.’
Fabron turned to Giash Chakrabati, who had remained standing.
‘He doesn’t speak much English, sir. Perhaps best to talk in short sentences and not use unusual words. The hospital says he’s all right. His heart was beating very fast when he came here this morning, and his skin was clammy, but the doctor diagnosed only mild shock. He’s been given some tranquillisers.’
‘Thanks. Has he said much to you? About discovering the body, that is?’
‘I’ve tried not to raise the subject, sir. He got very upset when Superintendent Thornton was speaking to him earlier.’
‘Okay. I’d like you to stay while we interview him, if you don’t mind. He seems to like you.’
‘Do you want me to speak to him in French?’ said Juliet.
‘I hadn’t thought of that. Probably because my own French isn’t good enough. It should be, of course.’
‘Not a subject you chose to apply yourself to?’
‘You could say that.’
Half an hour later, Juliet had extracted all the information she could from François Fabron and Giash Chakrabati had been detailed to take him back to his lodgings. He was staying in a cheap bed-and-breakfast place out on West Marsh Road, one of several that accommodated migrant workers at the food-packing plant. When asked about his occupation, however, he had been cagey.
‘Gay as a coot,’ had been Tim’s comment, when Juliet had explained the many points in their conversation that he hadn’t understood.
‘Being gay isn’t an occupation,’ said Juliet.
‘In his case, I’d say it probably is. He has pimp written all over him.’
Juliet tried to keep her voice even.
‘You may be right. He says he met Smythe on a dating site. They were both fascinated by people with double initials, apparently. ‘SS’ and ‘FF’.’
‘How sweet! Did he tell you why he was meeting Smythe last night?’
‘Just for a drink, he said. They were planning to go to the Yellow Tulip. It’s a bar on Double Street.’
‘I know it. Quite a posh establishment. It used to be renowned as a gay bar and pick-up joint, but it’s cleaned its act up a bit recently. Tries to have a broader appeal now. Never crossed swords with us as far as I know. The owner likes to stay on the right side of the law. I suppose we ought to question him, ask if his staff saw anything.’
‘Superintendent Thornton has started door-to-door enquiries in Double Street. They’re bound to include the Yellow Tulip. I’m not sure if the staff there will know much, though, since apparently neither Smythe nor Fabron made it through the door.’
‘Yes, but they may know Smythe – or Fabron, I suppose, though that’s less likely, if he genuinely couldn’t find the place. Or one of them could have been sneaking a fag outside and seen something.’
‘Do you want me to give the door-to-doors some special instructions for the Yellow Tulip?’
‘Can’t hurt, can it? We need to find out more about Smythe. It was Thornton who said he was a social worker. I wonder how he found that out?’
‘Speaks French, probably.’
‘I’ll ask him. He hasn’t found out who Smythe worked for yet. It wasn’t the council.’
‘Professor Salkeld’s probably gone through his pockets now. He must have been carrying a wallet, so there’ll be something in it that will identify him. I’ll call him. And I’ll give Jake a call now, too.’
‘Thanks,’ said Tim. ‘Stay in here to make the calls, if you like. It’ll be quieter than the main office.’
Juliet stifled a smile. Tim’s efforts at diplomacy could be very amusing when they didn’t irritate her with their clumsiness.