The Memory Game by Nicci French Read Free Book Online

have buried her. In fact, that's what I wanted to ask you about. Don't you think it's a peculiar place to bury Natalie - in the garden, just a stone's throw from where she lived?'
    Auster smiled across at her colleague. 'We were talking about that, weren't we, Stuart? It could be seen as a very clever place to hide a body. Most murderers aren't very good at hiding bodies. Remote areas of scrub or moorland might seem like a good idea, but they are places without much activity and it can be easy to see that digging has taken place. A garden is constantly being dug up.'
    'But there are lots of people around in a garden,' I protested.
    'Yes,' she said, with an obvious lack of interest. She clearly had no wish to sit debating theories with me. 'As I said, if you remember anything that might be significant, please get in touch.'
    She looked at her watch and asked if there was a pub nearby. I said there was one at the end of the road and she asked if I would like to join them for a bite of lunch. I loathe pubs and I wasn't hungry but I said I'd have a drink. Turnbull said he wanted to go to Oxford Street on the way to the Isle of Dogs, so Helen Auster and I walked along the road to the Globe Arms, where she ordered a pint of bitter and a lasagne and I toyed with a tomato juice and smoked cigarettes. I began to take to Helen, as I now called her. She talked about being a female officer and the canteen culture, and about her husband who was a delivery coordinator in Shropshire for Sainsbury's. She asked me about my divorce and I confided a few banalities. When it was almost time to go, I returned to the case:
    'It's all too late, isn't it?' I said. 'You're not going to be able to find anything out.'
    'There are one or two possibilities, but it will be difficult.'
    'It looks like you drew the short straw.'
    'I thought so. Now I'm starting to think that the Martellos are an interesting family.'
    Helen gave me a card and wrote her direct line on it. As we parted on the pavement on Highgate Road, I told her that she must get in touch the next time she was down in London and she promised to. Is it possible that I could become friends with a policewoman?
    'Don't you think it's time you gave up smoking?'
    Kim was sitting across the table from me; a candle on the paper tablecloth cast shadows on the pale triangle of her face. She skewered some swordfish with her fork, swilled it back with a gulp of wine.
    'How many are you on now? Thirty a day?'
    I had finished my meal - or rather, I had pushed it away, hardly touched, and was now sitting in a state of light-headed contentedness, blowing blue smoke over the debris of the table. I waved over the Italian waiter, and pointed at the empty wine bottle.
    'Another of these please.'
    I tapped the chimney of ash into the ashtray.
    'More than thirty, I hope. I'm going to stop soon. Honestly. The trouble is, I do enjoy it so much. It doesn't make me feel ill or anything.'
    The waiter came over, uncorked a bottle of amber wine and poured it into my glass to taste.
    'I stopped quite easily before. I'll stop again.'
    'Yesterday I saw the results of a woman I referred for a chest X-ray. She had a persistent cough and some mild chest pains. She'll be dead by this time next year. She's forty-four, with three teenage children.'
    'Don't.'
    'And how's your hostel coming on?'
    'Don't.'
    It wasn't coming on at all. It was a site marked on a piece of paper; a conversation in the office; a matter for meetings at the council offices; a subject for planning permission. At work, I had dozens of large sheets of graph paper on which I had blocked in my proposals : geometric designs, square by square, with sharpened pencils. I was just waiting for someone to tell me I could go ahead. Meanwhile, there was talk about consultation with local people. I didn't like the sound of that.
    'Okay, let's not talk about the hostel,' said Kim. 'Let's talk about you. What are you doing with yourself now that you're alone?'
    'I lit