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“So very much a planned robbery, and someone who knew when he left and by which door.” James gave a nod. “Can he tell us why he or someone from his shop sent a letter to Sarah Bicton?”
Gabriella turned back, helped lift the blanket a little higher up Alessandro’s chest, and when she realized he hadn’t been paying attention to what James was saying, asked the question in Italian.
“Sarah Bicton?” Alessandro frowned. “She is my new apprentice. I just offered her a job last week.”
“He offered her a position in the shop as an apprentice,” Gabriella said.
A nurse appeared in the doorway and bustled over. “Doctor says you’ve questioned Mr. Garelli enough. He needs to rest.”
“I hope you feel better soon,” Gabriella told him in Italian.
“All I need is for my shop and my pieces to be safe,” Alessandro said. “Everything else is less important.”
“What was that last thing you said to him?” Layman asked as they were ushered out.
“I just wished him a speedy recovery,” Gabriella said. “But he doesn’t actually care about himself. He only cares about the safety of his jewelry and his shop.”
They stood a little uncomfortably in the passageway.
“Well, as you probably don’t need me anymore,” she said, hands clasped demurely in front of her, “I’ll be off home.”
“Thank you for your help, Miss Farnsworth,” DI Layman said. “Much appreciated.”
“I’ll walk you out,” James said, and herded her away, a hand on her lower back.
As soon as they were out of earshot and headed for the lifts, he sighed. “I’m sorry. I wanted to see you tonight, but not like this.”
“I’m sorry, too. Depending on when you can get away, you’re welcome to come round.”
He made a face as the lift gave a soft bing and opened up for them. “There is no way this day is going to end for me any time soon. Let’s say that, come what may, I’ll pop by your flat tomorrow evening, after you get home from work. We can talk then.”
The lift opened on the ground floor and she lifted up and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “See you tomorrow. And thanks again for putting yourself between me and a bullet.”
chapter
nine
“Are you stepping out with Miss Farnsworth?” DI Layman asked.
Hartridge had left to bring the car round, and James was waiting with him at the front entrance.
“I am,” James answered. Whatever the doctor had used to numb his cuts while she stitched them up was wearing off, and he was uncomfortable and just a little bit grumpy.
“What was she doing at the jewelers?” Layman asked.
There was an edge of disapproval in his tone.
James felt a surge of annoyance at both the implication and the nosiness of the question, but he forced himself to answer with a neutral tone, given Layman outranked him. “I saw her walking back to her office on my way to speak to Garelli.” He glanced over at Layman. “She’s based out of the Kensington and Chelsea Traffic Warden Office. When I saw her, I stopped and suggested that after she’d signed off for the day that she walk down to Park Walk to meet me after my interview.
“Garelli’s shop was already closed up by the time I arrived because I was caught up in a minor car accident on Fulham Road and had to intervene before the bobbies arrived to stop an assault.” He had fallen back into report speak, he realized, making his answer overly formal in response to Layman’s chiding tone.
“I was just looking through the shop front window, hoping someone might still be in the back, when Miss Farnsworth arrived. That’s when the burglar burst through into the shop from the back area, saw us looking at him, and shot out the window.”
“Do you think he panicked?” Layman asked. “Or was he trying to kill you?”
“He panicked. The street was very quiet, all the other businesses were closed for the day. The last thing he expected was an audience.” James had seen the shock in the man’s eyes before he’d pulled the trigger.
“And did he have any reason to think you were with the Met?” Layman asked.
