Marty shook his head, watching the ill-matched pair from his window. They were walking back to the Malmaison, they’d said. Were they really who they seemed? The lawyer seemed to think so.
He phoned Erik. “I’ve just had a visit from Kat’s boyfriend and her flatmate,” he said. “Allegedly.”
“I’ve met a flatmate,” Erik said. “Amy. Tall, ginger hair, nervous.”
“Hot temper?” Marty asked.
“Oh, yes,” Erik said. “Snapped at me like a crocodile when I visited their flat.”
Marty laughed. “I got a taste of that when she dropped in today. There was a boyfriend, too: Ross. What do you know about him?”
“Kat hasn’t mentioned him.”
Marty shrugged. He wondered how serious Ross and Kat’s relationship was anyway. The man didn’t think twice about sleeping with her flatmate. “Did she talk about a couple of Cockneys – a lad called Jeb, and an older guy?”
“Never. We don’t discuss her private life.”
Why was he now suspecting Erik of dissembling, Marty mused. He’d always found Erik straight as a die, yet there was an odd note in his voice.
“I think she’s in trouble,” Marty said. “You know Lizzie was attacked and left for dead?”
“I didn’t.” Erik sounded shocked.
“The flatmate and the boyfriend say it was the other two who did it, and they’ll be doing the same to Kat when they find her.” He paused. “Wherever your sister is, and whatever she’s done, she should go to the police. You’ll have to tell her.”
“I will,” Erik said, and this time, Marty wholeheartedly believed him.