Faithfully: Chase & Halshaw #1 by Howard Mellowes Page B

any ideas about doing a runner. Now get out!”
    McKinley’s lower lip began to quiver. “But...” he sobbed.
    “Out!” bellowed Chase.
    *
    A few moments after Paul McKinley left, the door opened
again. Chase looked up and was startled to see Bryn Lewis stumble into the
room.
    Lewis slumped in the chair facing Chase and buried his face
in his hands.
    “She’s gone, Inspector,” he mumbled.
    “Who has, Mr Lewis?”
    “My Lady.” He looked up, his formerly cherubic face ashen.
“What am I going to do, Inspector? She was everything to me.”
    “What about your wife?” asked Chase, and then wished he
hadn’t.
    Lewis grasped Chase’s wrists and stared into his eyes
intently. “Listen, Inspector,” he said. “I’ve lived my life on the edge. I have
to be so careful with everything I say, everything I do. One slip, one false
move, and it’s all gone. At work, at home, in the car, everywhere. And the one
place, the only place I’ve ever felt totally safe was with My Lady. Do you
understand?”
    “Not really,” Chase replied, gently.
    Lewis buried his face in his hands for a moment. “You see,
that’s the point, Inspector. Nobody does. Not even my wife. She doesn’t realise
the stress I’m under, the pressure not to make a mistake.”
    “Don’t you feel safe with her?”
    “She feels safe with me. Or so she says, anyway. But that
just piles on even more pressure. And that’s why I used to love it when My Lady
summoned me. For a couple of hours, I would be totally safe, free from the risk
of making a catastrophic mistake. I was hers, to do with as she pleased.”
    “When did you last see her?”
    “Yesterday afternoon, Inspector. Or early evening, rather.
We met at a hotel near here at five, and she left at about quarter past seven.”
    “Which hotel?”
    “The White Hart.”
    “Who paid for the room?”
    “She did.”
    “Did she always pay, or was it just her turn?”
    “She always paid, Inspector.”
    “Did anyone know about your meeting? Ms Rodway ,
for example?”
    Lewis shook his head emphatically.
    Chase thought for a moment. “What did you do after Ms Faith
left you?” he asked.
    “I went home, Inspector. My wife and I had dinner together,
and we spent a quiet evening watching a film on TV.”
    “Did you go out again that evening?”
    “No. Why should I? I was utterly content, in every sense.
And I’ll never, ever feel that way again, Inspector. Never!”
    Chase shook his head slowly.
    Lewis leant forward. “Who did it, Inspector?” he demanded.
“Who? Tell me!”
    “I’ve no idea,” Chase replied. “Not yet. Can you think of
anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”
    “No-one, Inspector. Truly. No-one would want to hurt My
Lady.”
    Chase raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
    There was a tap at the door, and a cadaverous young man in a
sharply tailored suit appeared.
    “Are you ready for us now, Inspector?” he asked.
    “Who are you?” Chase demanded.
    “Justin Hargreaves,” said the thin man, evenly. “Managing
Consultant, Sandersons. This is my colleague Joe Li. Dinah Rodway said you wanted to see us.”
    Lewis stood. “I’ll leave you to it, Inspector,” he muttered,
and blundered out of the room, avoiding eye contact with the two new arrivals.
    Justin Hargreaves settled himself in the chair Lewis had
vacated and crossed his legs. Joe Li, a square, well-upholstered man in a
slightly too tight suit followed Justin into the room and pulled up a chair
next to him. The two men looked at Chase expectantly.
    Chase looked back at them. Both wore monogrammed oxford
weave shirts, the cutaway collars buttoned, with broad, understated ties and
plain cufflinks in the double cuffs. Their watches provided the only flamboyant
touch: Hargreaves’ was a silver Tag Heuer, Li’s a gold Rolex Oyster. Everyone
wears a uniform, Chase thought wryly. Even Management Consultants. Especially Management
Consultants, perhaps.
     “You wanted to see us,” prompted Hargreaves, after