Or Marianna might have been killed by just the sort of man that was watching them.
He walked back to St Luke’s Mansions. A patrol car passed him, slowed for a look, recognized him, and passed on. So his orders were already being followed.
A prosperous-looking dark blue car was parked in the kerb near by. An expensive-looking car and he thought he had seen it before. He walked round the front to study the windscreen and saw on it a card which empowered the driver to park his car in the area reserved for Members of Parliament.
The last thing he wanted just now was a visit from Job Titus. There were good sound reasons for not entertaining in your home a man who might be a murder suspect.
He walked up his stairs quickly, arriving at the kitchen in time to hear Stella saying that they were going to eat at home but something had gone wrong with a casserole she was doing and she thought they would now be eating out.
Job Titus was sitting at the kitchen table holding a glass of red wine. He had been drinking already, Coffin could tell from his eyes, but had himself in hand. He was supposed to be able to charm all women and Coffin thought he was doing so now. Letty was smiling and Stella would probably be asking Titus to join them at dinner if he didn’t move fast to stop her.
Job stood up as Coffin came. John, of course we’ve met, you remember?’ He held out his hand.
At a large charity dinner in the Docklands, if you could call that meeting. They had shaken hands, no more. And as far as Coffin was concerned, they could leave it there.
They were not friends. Job had certainly joined in the late campaign to get his resignation, even if he had kept his name hidden. My secret enemy, he thought.
He left the outstretched hand hanging and after a second, Job withdrew it, covering the moment with a smile. ‘I always believe in going to the top with a complaint. Your men have been harassing me. I don’t want to make it official, cause trouble for you. I want to keep it friendly.’
‘I can’t discuss anything,’ said Coffin stiffly. Like to slit your throat.
From Stella’s startled look at him he guessed this notion came across to her. ‘John …’ she began.
‘It’s all right, Stella, Mr Titus is just leaving.’
Job Titus stood up. He put his arm round Letty who showed no sign of resenting it. ‘I just love this leopard lady. You aren’t listening to me, John. I did not kill Marianna Manners. You might pass that word on to your murder squad. They are ill-mannered bastards who take a lot for granted and if I swore at them, then they deserved it. This was meant to be just a friendly warning for you to pass on. Next time I will make it official.’ He moved away, knocking over the glass of red wine. ‘Look, I told your men that Marianna had been complaining of a man trying to get to know her. Go for him, not me.’
‘I’ll see you out,’ said Coffin.
‘Before we go, just one more thing: Marianna auditioned for a part in the amateur play in the Theatre Workshop here. She was out of work, you see, and she thought anything was better than nothing. Maybe she met her killer there. Bear it in mind.’
Coffin just held the door without answering.
Job Titus hesitated, then moved towards the door. ‘Goodbye, Stella, goodbye, Letty. Mrs Coffin, I suggest you tether your husband.’
‘What did he mean by that?’ said Stella as Coffin came back.
‘Tame, tie up, he was just being offensive. He’s frightened, I think.’
Stella started to mop up the wine. ‘I wish he hadn’t come here. I don’t like it when your work and mine cross.’
‘He’s a madman,’ said Letty. ‘Attractive, but mad. Did he kill the girl?’
Coffin shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ He was watching his wife: she had not failed to notice the phrase about the man trying to get to know Marianne.
‘It’s your job to know.’
‘It takes time. He may have had a hand in it.’
Stella said: ‘I think we had better eat at Max’s. The casserole got away from me.’ She spoke of it as if it was an animal she had been training. No wonder she had trouble cooking, Coffin thought, if she’s always trying to tame the meat.
‘I booked a table while I was out,’ he said. ‘Let’s go. Coming, Letty?’
‘Why do you think I am dressed in Versace? I knew that casserole would never come to the table. I too booked a table. You’re my guests, by the way. I’ve got something to discuss.’
Over the prosciutto and chilled melon, Letty said: ‘I wanted to tell you that my daughter has disappeared and that I have engaged a private detective to look for her.’
Coffin opened his mouth to speak but Letty stopped him.
‘Don’t say it. It is not a matter for the police. Elissa is eighteen, she sent a letter telling me she was going, and she has the money from a small trust fund. I don’t think any police force is going to spend any energy looking for her, not even yours, brother.’
‘Did she say why?’
‘I am too dominating, too successful, she needs to lose me.’
‘I see.’ He wondered if he did. It was a fair description of Letty: successful, bossy. But were daughters supposed to mind that?
‘But really, I think, she is our mother’s descendant. Every so often she must shake herself free and depart.’
‘You are taking it very well.’
‘No, I’m not. I’m trembling with fear inside. Which is why I have engaged a private detective to find her. Just locate her … Stella recommended one.’
‘Did I?’ Stella was surprised.
‘Well, you talked of him. Tash. You probably know of him?’ She turned to her brother.
‘He’s known,’ said Coffin tersely. The Tash Agency had been around for some time.
‘He’s seems efficient and to have a good reputation. I inquired around. And he’s attractive. I like him for that. Lovely fair hair with bright brown eyes, and well groomed. I didn’t want a seedy, backroom sort of man.’
‘Certainly not that,’ said Coffin. ‘But he’s pretty much a one man band. Can he cover the field?’
‘I think he can do it; he has some help. I’m convinced she’s still in London. He thinks not.’
Coffin still looked doubtful. In his opinion London was no place for a girl of eighteen to roam around in. Was she on drugs? Did she have a boyfriend? He considered asking Letty but decided now was not the moment. ‘You can always call on me.’
Letty smiled at him and nodded. ‘So now you know why I am taking the state of near-bankruptcy and the decline in the theatre with relative calm.’
Stella put her hand gently on Letty’s arm. ‘I too have a daughter.’
‘But you know where she is?’
‘Yes, she’s putting together a play for the Edinburgh Fringe. She’s in the family business, I’m afraid. I had a card from Fife. She was there last week.’
A small crowd was leaving the precincts of the Theatre Workshop as they came home. Most of them were young people and they were talking loudly and cheerfully.
Coffin raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s this?’
‘The Friends of St Luke’s Theatre are auditioning for their summer play. They’re throwing it open to all this year because we’re using it as preparation for the Drama School. See who comes in, sniff out talent, get local interest.’ Money, she meant.
The Friends, a redoubtable group of local