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Leonard smiled and shook his head. ‘Howard was a lot of things, but I don’t think anyone really believed he was a murderer. In fact, personally I don’t believe anyone murdered Olivia.’
She nodded. That appeared to be the general view throughout the media in 1964. Even the more scurrilous tabloid magazines like the National Enquirer only hinted at murder.
‘Why don’t people think she was murdered?’
If you’d ever been to Riverview, where Olivia was last seen, you’d believe that too. The Mississippi is a powerful beast. We had dogs, horses go missing from the estate. The river just took them. And if Olivia had gone walking down there in the dark … Guests were told to stay away from the river, but she was not the sort to listen.’
‘So you don’t even think Howard and Olivia were having an affair?’ she pressed.
‘I don’t think so, although Olivia was an outrageous flirt,’ he added disapprovingly. ‘The night of the wedding I saw her stroking a waiter’s ass! In public. And she was there as an Asgill’s ambassador, for heaven’s sake.’
At that moment Asgill’s UK marketing director appeared at the doorway and beckoned them to the lobby. ‘Our car awaits,’ he smiled. ‘Let’s get you into your carriage and off to meet Prince Charming. Speaking of which, have we looked into a visa for him yet?’
‘Not as such, no.’
‘Would you like me to?’
‘It sounds an expensive process.’
Leonard smiled. ‘We have money for essential projects such as bringing two hearts together.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ she replied slowly, still thinking about Olivia Martin.
*
The party was being held in a huge white house on the outskirts of Regent’s Park. As Tess and Leonard pulled up alongside the Doric pillars in their black town car, there was already a parade of people in cocktail dresses and sharp suits walking in under a banner advertising the Lupin. It looked great – a pretty purple bottle against a sparkling white background.
‘This place is incredible,’ said Tess. ‘What is it?’
‘An old embassy, I can’t remember which one,’ said Leonard. ‘Sean organized it; pulled in some contacts to hire it.’
Tess was impressed. She was looking forward to meeting Sean, in fact couldn’t quite believe she hadn’t yet met him, considering he was without question the loose cannon in the family. The cuttings file on Sean was two inches thick. Working at the Globe, she had never particularly noticed his name, but once she had started looking, he was everywhere. Sean on P. Diddy’s yacht in St Tropez. Sean at the winter polo in Gstaad. Sean with his arm around Sting and Trudie at a fundraiser in Monaco. He was connected, wealthy, and decadent, the dictionary definition of ‘playboy’. How could he fail to be interesting, at the very least?
They left the car at the kerb and walked through the walnut double doors. Tess scanned the crowd anxiously for Dom. She was nervous that an unsuccessful reunion might deal a fatal blow to their transatlantic relationship.
For a split second she felt on edge – maybe he hadn’t even come? – but then she saw him, patting his invite against the palm of his hand. She had run over this moment in her head a hundred times, knowing it would be a litmus test for whether their relationship was really in trouble or whether it was just a blip caused by pressure and distance. Tess was relieved to feel her heart give a little flutter of pleasure and she was equally pleased to see him grin as he spotted her. Oh, he looks fantastic, she thought.
‘Here she is at last,’ said Dom, hugging her. He looked her up and down; the tight curves of her Hervé Léger dress, the hint of tanned cleavage courtesy of her regular visits to the Portofino Sun Center, and seemed to approve. ‘I’ve missed you, you know,’ he added in a whisper as he slipped his hand in hers. It felt comfortable and familiar, two things that fitted together perfectly.
‘Dom, meet Leonard Carter,’ said Tess. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear that Leonard has said he’d sponsor your visa.’
‘Wow!?
?? said Dom, pumping Leonard’s hand. ‘Well, I can sincerely say pleased to meet you, Mr Carter.’
Leonard laughed. ‘Well, I think that’s enough of a reason to call for champagne all round,’ he said, motioning to a waiter. He handed Tess a glass of bubbly.
‘Just a few sips,’ she said happily.
Amber light glowed around the room and shone off the circular zinc–topped bar at the centre. Against one wall was a huge avant–garde sculpture formed from mirrored cubes five feet wide. Lined up along each surface and lit from above were the purple Lupin bottles in random patterns. Nice touch, thought Tess, looking around the party with professional appreciation. It was a difficult thing to do a launch well – after all, she had attended enough in her time – and this one was very good. A great balance of beautiful people and industry players teamed with a smattering of hip celebrities, mixed together with interesting food and drink – the bar was serving something that appeared to have holly sprouting from the top – in an intriguing and unusual setting. If Sean had arranged this, she was becoming more and more intrigued.
And then she saw him. He had a square dimpled chin just like his sister Liz, and eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischievousness. Sean Asgill was walking across the room, shaking hands and exchanging whispered jokes, pressing the flesh like a pro. As he got closer, Tess could see his bespoke suit, his craggy smile and tanned skin, which surprised Tess considering as he was supposed to have spent the last month in a rehab facility. Confidence oozed from every pore. No, not confidence, she corrected herself, cockiness. It was amazing how a few million dollars could made a guy think he was God’s gift. Excusing herself from Leonard and Dom, she walked over to him, extending her hand.
‘Sean Asgill?’ she asked.
‘That’s me,’ he said, switching his glass to his left hand. As they shook hands, Tess could see him checking her out.
‘I’m Tess Garrett,’ she said.
