possibility, surely?’
‘No, I spoke to Detective Bautista by phone before the formal interview and he was clear which group planted the bomb and why. They wanted to kill as many as possible in that party headquarters and not David Eyam. Besides, there was no motive to kill Mr Eyam.’
‘What if you were told that Eyam had offended certain parties in Britain; would that alter your view?’
He shook his head. ‘I knew that he’d had to resign from government. He told me. He made no secret of it. Everyone knew.’
‘Was there anything that you discovered that was not submitted as evidence to the inquest?’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘The money - Eyam’s father’s money. He was worth between twenty and thirty million. I happen to know that Eyam did not inherit anything like that.’
‘Maybe there wasn’t time. After all, they died only a couple of months apart.’
‘So you looked into that.’
‘No, I read about his death in the papers. I put things together.’
‘Come on, Tony, you talked to people. You followed your instincts. I can see it in your eyes.’
He lifted the glass of wine to his lips and ruminated. ‘I am not an investigator,’ he said eventually.
A procession of small dishes began to arrive, which he marshalled and addressed with the kind of relish that made her think food was a substitute for something missing in big, slow-moving Tony’s life.
‘The Swedes - what happened to them? And the man who shot the film?’
‘They were treated for minor injuries and shock and went home.’
‘Why didn’t you interview them? They might have seen something that the camera didn’t pick up.’
‘We had the detective. That was all that seemed necessary, but I grant you that the Swedes might have had something to say.’
‘Have you got their names? Contact numbers?’
‘No, I don’t believe we do.’
‘That’s an odd way to conduct an inquiry.’
‘We have limited resources. We do our best.’
‘But no one questioned what Eyam was doing in Colombia? Why was that? There is probably no country in the world that would have been less appealing to him, and yet no one thought to ask what he was doing there. It doesn’t cost any money to ask a question like that.’
Swift shook his head and mumbled something.
‘Did you check with the border police? Did you find out the flights he took? His onward journey? The government collects all that information nowadays.’
‘Of course.’
‘So you know when and where he left the country.’
‘Not exactly. There are no records of his departure.’
‘What . . . Jesus, and you didn’t produce that at the inquest.’
‘It was in no way relevant to his death.’
‘But it could have been, Tony. It could have been.’ She slammed her palm down on her table. Then she thought for a second. ‘Maybe he left using another name.’
‘Then why would he check into the Hotel Atlantic under his own name? Apart from the film, that’s the reason we know he was involved. The room key: remember? And his passport was returned to Britain.’
There was a silence while Swift concentrated on his food. He encouraged her to join him by waving his fork at the dishes but she told him she wasn’t hungry. ‘Look,’ he said at length, ‘David Eyam is dead and we will never know what he was doing in Cartagena, or what he planned to do in his life. It’s wrong. It’s wrong such a talented and wonderful human being is dead, but sometimes injustice is the nature of things.’
‘Sheer fatalism,’ she said and ordered a whisky. ‘I don’t believe that injustice or mystery is the natural order of things. That is why I am a lawyer.’ She stopped and waited until she felt she had his attention. ‘I heard that Eyam was sick.’
‘Really?’ he replied without raising his eyes. ‘He didn’t look ill. I saw him in November at a screening of The Big Sleep . He’d lost a bit of weight but he looked fine to me. That
‘No, I spoke to Detective Bautista by phone before the formal interview and he was clear which group planted the bomb and why. They wanted to kill as many as possible in that party headquarters and not David Eyam. Besides, there was no motive to kill Mr Eyam.’
‘What if you were told that Eyam had offended certain parties in Britain; would that alter your view?’
He shook his head. ‘I knew that he’d had to resign from government. He told me. He made no secret of it. Everyone knew.’
‘Was there anything that you discovered that was not submitted as evidence to the inquest?’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘The money - Eyam’s father’s money. He was worth between twenty and thirty million. I happen to know that Eyam did not inherit anything like that.’
‘Maybe there wasn’t time. After all, they died only a couple of months apart.’
‘So you looked into that.’
‘No, I read about his death in the papers. I put things together.’
‘Come on, Tony, you talked to people. You followed your instincts. I can see it in your eyes.’
He lifted the glass of wine to his lips and ruminated. ‘I am not an investigator,’ he said eventually.
A procession of small dishes began to arrive, which he marshalled and addressed with the kind of relish that made her think food was a substitute for something missing in big, slow-moving Tony’s life.
‘The Swedes - what happened to them? And the man who shot the film?’
‘They were treated for minor injuries and shock and went home.’
‘Why didn’t you interview them? They might have seen something that the camera didn’t pick up.’
‘We had the detective. That was all that seemed necessary, but I grant you that the Swedes might have had something to say.’
‘Have you got their names? Contact numbers?’
‘No, I don’t believe we do.’
‘That’s an odd way to conduct an inquiry.’
‘We have limited resources. We do our best.’
‘But no one questioned what Eyam was doing in Colombia? Why was that? There is probably no country in the world that would have been less appealing to him, and yet no one thought to ask what he was doing there. It doesn’t cost any money to ask a question like that.’
Swift shook his head and mumbled something.
‘Did you check with the border police? Did you find out the flights he took? His onward journey? The government collects all that information nowadays.’
‘Of course.’
‘So you know when and where he left the country.’
‘Not exactly. There are no records of his departure.’
‘What . . . Jesus, and you didn’t produce that at the inquest.’
‘It was in no way relevant to his death.’
‘But it could have been, Tony. It could have been.’ She slammed her palm down on her table. Then she thought for a second. ‘Maybe he left using another name.’
‘Then why would he check into the Hotel Atlantic under his own name? Apart from the film, that’s the reason we know he was involved. The room key: remember? And his passport was returned to Britain.’
There was a silence while Swift concentrated on his food. He encouraged her to join him by waving his fork at the dishes but she told him she wasn’t hungry. ‘Look,’ he said at length, ‘David Eyam is dead and we will never know what he was doing in Cartagena, or what he planned to do in his life. It’s wrong. It’s wrong such a talented and wonderful human being is dead, but sometimes injustice is the nature of things.’
‘Sheer fatalism,’ she said and ordered a whisky. ‘I don’t believe that injustice or mystery is the natural order of things. That is why I am a lawyer.’ She stopped and waited until she felt she had his attention. ‘I heard that Eyam was sick.’
‘Really?’ he replied without raising his eyes. ‘He didn’t look ill. I saw him in November at a screening of The Big Sleep . He’d lost a bit of weight but he looked fine to me. That
Similar Books
