Necessary as Blood

don‘t go out with the girls, Superintendent. The complications are bad for business. But occasionally one of them gets a bit too attached and it gets... difficult. There was one I had to let go — Kylie. I don‘t know where she is now.‘
    ‘Another missing woman?‘ Cullen asked.
    ‘She‘s not missing, Sergeant,‘ Ritchie said, with exaggerated patience. ‘She just doesn‘t work here any more. Ask Melanie about her, if you like. They were flatmates for a bit. Now...‘ He stood and ushered them back into the corridor. As they passed the private bar, a man came out of the lift, glanced at Kincaid, then frowned and came towards them.
    ‘Don‘t I know you?‘ he said, holding out a hand. ‘Miles Alexander.‘
    The man‘s face looked familiar, and there was something sleek and a little padded about him that made Kincaid think of a seal. The comparison triggered recollection. ‘I saw you at the London,‘ Kincaid said. This was the man who had passed them in the corridor as they were going to Dr Kaleem‘s office, and had responded rather irritably to Kincaid‘s request for directions.
    ‘Ah, that was it. I‘m a consultant there.‘ Alexander seemed sociable enough now.
    ‘Miles is also one of Sandra‘s patrons,‘ said Ritchie. ‘Miles, these gentlemen are from Scotland Yard.‘
    ‘Is there news about Sandra?‘ Alexander asked. He looked more interested than distressed.
    ‘No. We‘re here about her husband, Naz Malik,‘ Kincaid said. When Alexander looked at him blankly, he added, ‘Mr Malik was killed this past weekend.‘
    ‘I hadn‘t heard.‘ Alexander frowned. ‘That‘s too bad. You‘d think Sandra going missing was enough tragedy for one family.‘ He shook his head. ‘Not only do I miss her work, but she was a great benefactor of the clinic.‘
    ‘The clinic?‘
    ‘Miles is one of the directors of a sexual-health clinic in Shoreditch,‘ explained Ritchie. ‘It provides free screening and services for local women. Sandra felt really strongly about it, and contributed her time as well as her artwork. Many of the Asian women don‘t want their husbands or families to know they‘re seeing a doctor, so the clinic allows them confidentiality.‘
    ‘It‘s a small return to the community.‘ Alexander glanced at his watch, then gave them a perfunctory smile. ‘Sorry. A business appointment. If you‘ll excuse me.‘ He nodded, then left them to join a cluster of men at the bar.
    Ritchie turned towards the lift and handed Kincaid a business card. ‘If there‘s anything else I can do, Superintendent, you know where to find me.‘
    ‘There is one more thing, Mr Ritchie,‘ Kincaid said. ‘We‘ll need to know your whereabouts last Saturday.‘

    ‘A bit full of himself, don‘t you think?‘ said Cullen as they stepped out into Widegate Street. ‘Conceited git. Just assumes that every woman is gaga over him.‘
    ‘Maybe they are.‘ Kincaid grinned. ‘Seems like a good-looking bloke, but we might want to get a female opinion. What I think is more interesting is his address.‘ He touched the card in his breast-pocket. With some reluctance, Ritchie had scribbled an address and phone number on the back.
    ‘I was at my parents‘ Saturday afternoon and evening. It‘s a slow day for the club, and there was a birthday party for my niece,‘ he‘d told them.
    ‘St John‘s Wood,‘ Kincaid said thoughtfully as they walked back towards Liverpool Street. ‘If he comes from that sort of background, why the neutral accent?‘
    ‘Maybe he doesn‘t want to scare off working-class boys who made good. But you can still tell he‘s public-school.‘
    ‘How?‘ Kincaid asked, looking curiously at Cullen. Cullen shrugged. ‘I don‘t really know. You just can.‘
    ‘Makes you wonder about his “contacts in the City‘‘ who were so willing to funnel money into the club, doesn‘t it?‘ Kincaid mused. ‘Old school mates? Friends of his parents?‘
    ‘He will be connected,‘ agreed Cullen. ‘Whether he likes it or not. And he has a bloody suntan,‘ he added, darkly, as if that were the worst imaginable offence.
    ‘Maybe he jogs, or rows, or plays tennis. It is August, after all,‘ Kincaid said with a grin. ‘You might even have a suntan if you ever got out of your flat. How‘s the flat-hunting going, by the way?‘
    ‘Not.‘ Cullen sounded discouraged.
    ‘Well, if nothing major breaks, maybe you could take off a bit early this afternoon. But first, check out Ritchie‘s