Free The Vault by Ruth Rendell Page B

told you on the phone that we spoke to him,’ Mildred Jones said. ‘He said his name was Keith Hill. I told you that too.’
    Wexford said, ‘He didn’t mention his address?’
    ‘No. Why would he? You don’t say to someone you’ve just met, “My name’s Keith Hill and I live at number something or other, do you?” ’
    Neither policeman answered her. ‘What did he look like?’
    ‘Young, about twenty. Very good-looking if you like the sulky type. Tall, dark. He was obviously one of Harriet’s.’
    ‘One of Harriet’s what?’ Tom asked.
    ‘Boyfriends, bits on the side. Oh, I knew all about it. She had a lot of young fellows visit her, plumbers, electricians, blokes she’d send for to do jobs for her while Franklin was out. They did the jobs all right.’
    Tom’s face set into lines of disapproval and he curled up his mouth in distaste. He reminded Wexford of a portrait he had once seen of John Knox at his most censorious. Suppressing the signs of amusement, he said, ‘You said
we
spoke to him, this Keith Hill. Who were “we”?’
    ‘Oh, me and my then husband. Didn’t I say?’
    Wexford hardly liked to ask if the man had died. He had no need to.
    ‘We split up a couple of years ago and got divorced.’ Mildred Jones uttered a sound halfway between a chuckle and a snort. ‘It was just after that girl Vlad burnt his shirt. Not that it was because of that or the girl. He had an eye for the girls but he never fancied those skinny blondes.’
    ‘Vlad?’
    ‘The cleaner. Her name was Vladlena, only I called her Vlad the Impaler. “Burner” would have been more like.’
    Tom was anxious to get her back to the subject.
    ‘Would you tell us everything you remember about Keith Hill? Exactly what he said when you and your ex-husband talked to him?’
    ‘Well, the first time I just said good evening or hello or something and he just said good evening. I was out for a walk with my little dog. I had a dog then but he died. The second time I was in my friend’s car and I saw him and I waved but he didn’t wave back. The next time I was coming back in the car with Colin – my ex, I mean – and this Keith Hill was in the mews but without his car that time and I thought he looked shifty – well, as if he’d been up to no good. I said, “You again” or “We meet again” or something, and he said, “Yes” or “Right”. He said his car was in for a service. Those leaves were lying all over the place and getting wet and I said to him how someone I knew had slipped on them and broken her leg. I thought I’d let him know I knew what he was up to with a woman three times his age and I asked him how Harriet was. He said she was fine and I said, tell her Mildred said hello or give her my love or something.
    ‘We went indoors after that and watched him from my front window. I don’t know what he was doing. I went out again then, carrying my rubbish bag for the council to collect in the morning. After I was back in the house again I saw him go through the door in the wall into the backyard of Harriet’s house. I said to Colin, he knew it like he lived there, like he owned the place.’
    ‘Thank you, Mrs Jones. That’s very helpful. Can you remember how he was dressed?’
    ‘Like they all do. The young, I mean. One of those zipper jackets, jeans of course, a black T-shirt, I think. He had that car, but he wasn’t very confident driving it. I thought he wasgoing to scrape it against the wall out there. He was nervous and not just about the car.’
    ‘And he went through the door in the wall into the backyard of Orcadia Cottage?’
    ‘I’ve told you he did.’
    ‘Mrs Jones,’ Wexford said, ‘does the name Francine mean anything to you? And what is La Punaise?’
    He expected an answer of sorts to his first question, only perhaps to say that she had heard the name but couldn’t remember where. What he didn’t anticipate was a full and highly informative answer to his second inquiry.
    ‘I can tell