Free The Vanishing Point by Val McDermid Page B

dealers and gangstas, charmed his way into their circle and skated close to the edge, but he wasn’t one of them. And assuming he was in a position to do anything about his son, this business with Jimmy would be nothing to do with him. Scarlett and Joshu were married and divorced before the kid was a year old.’
    ‘That doesn’t change the fact that Joshu is his father. These emotions run deep. They’ve got a way of coming back at you. If it’s not him, it could be a family member acting on his behalf or on their own initiative.’ Vivian reached for her computer and started tapping the keys.
    ‘You’re not getting it. Jimmy doesn’t exist for the Patels. Joshu’s family hated Scarlett. They blamed her for everything that went wrong for their precious son. They didn’t come to the wedding, they never came to the house and Scarlett never crossed their front door. As far as I’m aware, they’ve never set eyes on their grandson outside the pages of a tabloid.’
    Vivian shook her head. ‘All the same. It’s the strongest lead you’ve given me so far. What’s his surname, this Joshu?’
    ‘It’s Patel. But—’
    ‘Joshu Patel.’
    ‘Actually, it’s Jishnu, that’s his given name. He left that behind when he became a DJ.’
    ‘OK. Jishnu Patel, then. Do you have an address for him? Date of birth? Family details? Anything that would help us track him down?’
    ‘I can tell you exactly where Joshu is right now,’ Stephanie said wearily. ‘Believe me, this is nothing to do with him.’

6
    W hen I think back to that first encounter with Joshu, I can’t help seeing the final act foreshadowed in every aspect. That need always to look like a big man. The way he filled the gap between his reality and his fantasy with drugs. His failure ever to step up to the plate and be a man.
    But I’m running ahead of myself. Once I’d realised Scarlett was telling the truth and I didn’t need to be scared witless of the pillock with the pistol, I could see Joshu for what he was. As far as I was concerned, right then he was nothing more than an irritating distraction. I’d started to build a rapport with Scarlett then he’d slouched in and broken the mood. I knew I couldn’t creep any further into Scarlett’s confidence with him there. It was obvious even in those few moments. She only had eyes for him and he only had eyes for himself. My sole function in this triangle was to big Joshu up, and I didn’t need to bother with that just yet. I wanted to hear from him, but not before I had a clearer idea of how he might be useful to making Scarlett’s story work. The only thing I could do now was lay down a timetable.
    ‘Let’s sort out when we can meet,’ I said, setting off for the changing room. Scarlett followed and so, disconcertingly, did Joshu. I closed the curtain on the cubicle firmly and tried to ignore his attempts to turn the situation into a sexual encounter. ‘Not now, babe,’ Scarlett kept saying amid the scuffles and moans.
    When I emerged he had her against the wall, his hand between her legs. ‘Have you got your diary handy?’ I said briskly.
    He cast a dirty look over his shoulder. ‘Listen to you. “Have you got your diary handy?”’
    ‘You need to work on your impressions, innit,’ I said, dropping into his patois.
    Scarlett giggled and ducked out from under his arm. ‘I got it in the kitchen,’ she said, grabbing a luxurious towelling robe from a hook on the wall as she passed Joshu, flirting a little wave at him. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll be there in a minute.’
    Joshu’s scowl lifted and he slouched after her, turning back to target me with a self-satisfied sneer. As I followed Scarlett down the hall, he peeled off and disappeared up a shallow flight of stairs.
    We settled on three blocks of three days’ interviewing time, built around Scarlett’s schedule of public appearances, product promotions and meetings with TV executives and brand managers. She’d