by Penny Kline
Perhaps that accounted for the sadness I occasionally saw in his eyes.
He was holding a pencil, moving it round between his finger and thumb.
‘Of course the girl must have been in the vicinity,’ he said, ‘or she wouldn’t have been able to describe Paula Redfern and Luke with a fair degree of accuracy.’
I watched his face but made no comment. He returned the report to its folder, then placed the folder in the top drawer of his desk.
‘As I say, she’s a thoroughly unreliable witness. I just wondered if she might know Luke Jesty, have some kind of grudge.’
I thought about it for a few moments, tried to remember a stray remark. Someone who had helped out at the shop? A friend of Doug and Elaine’s? I even considered inventing a recollection of someone with a Welsh-sounding name.
‘I don’t remember Luke mentioning anyone called Rhiannon,’ I said. ‘So what will happen now?’
‘We’ll do a few checks. If you’ve any ideas where he could have gone … First I suggest you tell me everything you know about him. We don’t have the manpower to send people off on a wild-goose chase, but any reasonable possibility, in this area, or another part of the country, and we’ll follow it up as best we can.’
So he was more concerned about Luke’s well-being than apprehending a possible murder suspect. Or was he bluffing? Lulling me into a false sense of security so I would unwittingly incriminate Luke? I smiled at him and he smiled back. But it was the smile of a policeman, not a friend.
‘His parents live out towards Chew Magna,’ I said.
He passed me a sheet of paper and I wrote down the address.
‘Then there’s his brother. He lives in Portishead, runs his own contract cleaning agency.’ I searched in my wallet for Michael’s business card, then passed it across the desk.
‘You know these people?’
‘Yes. Well, I’ve met them.’ I glanced up at him but his face was expressionless. ‘Then there’s the couple where he was lodging. Doug and Elaine Hargreaves, they have a house in one of the streets off Coldharbour Road, but you know that already.’
‘Quite near where Paula Redfern lived.’
‘Yes. Luke worked with her in that herbal remedies shop on the way to the hospital. There’s an art gallery, then a shop that sells old musical instruments — ’
He nodded. ‘You knew Paula Redfern?’
‘No. Why?’
‘No reason. I just wondered.’
‘I doubt if any of the people I’ve told you about will know any more than I do,’ I said.
His fingers drummed on the edge of the desk. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Just routine checking and I’ll put his name and description on ‘Locate and Trace’. The central police computer.’ He made a few notes, pausing in the middle of writing to listen to a passing ambulance. ‘D’you think there’s any point in circulating the local doctors, or GPs in other areas come to that? I thought he might call in for a prescription.’
‘I suppose it’s possible.’
‘Was he taking any tablets?’ His voice had an edge to it as though he thought I was being less than co-operative. What on earth did he expect?
‘He was given some tranquillizers when he left hospital,’ I said, ‘but he told me he didn’t want to take them. I left it up to him.’
‘Major tranquillizers?’ He wrote a few words on his pad.
‘No, just something to calm him down. I thought Dr Stringer would have told you all that kind of thing.’
We stared at each other. I didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust me. I thought the witness had told him more than he was letting on. He thought I was withholding information about Luke. It was inevitable, part of the nature of our jobs. I felt a twinge of hostility. Fry was supposed to be a friend. Well, he knew a great deal about me from the last time our jobs had overlapped and surely that made us friends of a sort. I decided not to mention the fact that Michael and I were going to spend the afternoon searching for Luke. Neither would I mention my visit to Carl Redfern and his description of the ‘insanely jealous’ Liz. What was the point? They had nothing to do with Luke’s disappearance.
*
As soon as I turned the corner I could see Doug waiting at the bottom of the steps leading up to my flat. Was it really Doug, or was it just one of those days when almost everyone you see reminds you of somebody else?
It was Doug all right. When I got out of the car he started walking quickly towards me. His tongue was moving backwards and forwards across his upper lip and when he came closer I could see that his whole body was trembling.
‘Anna, could I have a word?’ His voice came out as a sort of airless gasp.
‘Yes, of course. Come on up.’
‘I thought you might have gone out for the day. I asked the lady in the ground-floor flat. I wasn’t sure which part of the house you … ’
He followed me up the steps, losing his footing halfway up and putting out his hands to steady himself.
Once inside the flat he stood in the hallway, his eyes darting round the three half-open doors.
‘In here, Doug.’ I steered him towards the kitchen. From there I would be able to see if Michael arrived — or Luke came up the road.
‘Elaine doesn’t know I’m here,’ he said. ‘She thinks I’m at the garden centre. I shall have to go there after this and buy a few bedding plants. I can’t stay long.’
‘Sit down,’ I said, ‘I’ll make some coffee.’
‘Not for me. Luke’s found somewhere to stay, has he? I’d have had him back like a shot but Elaine — she couldn’t take it.’
So he had come to apologize.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I understand. I’m sure you both had a lot more to put up with than I realized. I thought Luke would be a fairly easy person to have as a lodger but — ’
‘Oh, he was. No trouble at all.’ He paused, his face contorted, as though in pain. ‘Did he say anything?’
‘When? What about?’
‘When he came to see you. When he was in hospital. About — about when he was staying with us.’
‘Not really. I got the impression he was happier, liked it better than when he was in a room on his own.’
‘Is that what he said?’
He breathed out heavily and sat down on the chair I had offered him several minutes before.
‘As a matter of fact, Doug, I don’t know where Luke is. I brought him back here on Thursday, then yesterday evening when I returned from work he’d gone.’
‘Oh, God.’ Doug was sweating profusely. It collected in droplets on his forehead and ran down his nose and cheeks. He took off his glasses and started wiping them with a tissue.
‘It’s not your fault,’ I said. ‘Luke was in a very volatile state. Even if you’d had him back I don’t know if he’d have stayed put for long.’
‘You don’t understand.’ The sweat was still pouring down his face but now he was crying too. ‘I wanted to help, get close to him, but … ’
The sobbing was so loud it was impossible to hear the rest of the sentence.
‘You’d better tell me what’s happened,’ I said.
I had to wait several minutes. When he spoke it was in the form of a question.
‘D’you think Elaine knows?’
‘Knows what?’ But already I had an inkling of what he was about to say.
‘Take your time,’ I said. I wanted to reassure him, help him to talk, but I sounded cold, intimidating — like Howard Fry.
‘I told you about the photography,’ Doug muttered. ‘Luke was helping me — in the darkroom — the shed at the bottom of the garden.’
He stopped, wanting me to guess the rest. I wouldn’t.
Blowing his nose, then keeping the handkerchief still held to his face, he started to explain. In spite of the handkerchief his voice was louder, clearer, as though having got this far there was no point in trying to protect himself.
‘I felt sorry for him, Anna. He’s so — so … The fi
rst time — it was a mistake. Brushing against him. I expect that’s what he thought.’
‘Luke’s not that naive,’ I said. ‘If he knew how you felt he should have stayed away from the shed.’
‘No! It was my responsibility. He’s only a boy.’
‘He’s twenty-two,’ I said wearily. ‘Anyway, when was all this?’
‘The last time was Thursday, two days before the accident. Has Elaine said anything? When you phoned from the hospital? Is that why she wouldn’t let him come back?’
‘I’ve no idea. Was there any reason why she should suspect?’
‘No. No, nothing — unless Luke … ’
‘I should think that’s highly improbable. It’s much more likely she was put off by the way he behaved the night of the accident.’
He replaced his glasses and attempted to pat down his tuft of hair. ‘What will you do?’
‘About what you’ve just told me? Nothing.’ I was torn between feeling sorry for him and wanting to punish him for making Luke’s life even more difficult than it was already. But Luke hadn’t complained … ‘Nothing. Thank you for coming to tell me. It must have been hard.’
He stood up and held out his hand. From the expression on his face I guessed the confession had produced a brief feeling of euphoria. He was almost back to his old self. I wanted him to go away.
‘I knew you’d understand.’ He smiled, as a naughty child might smile through its tears after a good telling off. ‘Only trouble is — put it in a nutshell — if Elaine found out … ’
‘She won’t hear about it from me.’
‘I knew I could rely on you.’ Already he was halfway to the front door. ‘By the way.’ He tried to sound as casual as possible but his words came out in a kind of croak. ‘The night of the accident Elaine stayed home and watched that serial about the couple who moved to the north and bought a market garden.’ He cleared his throat several times. The front door was open and only his head and shoulders remained in the flat. ‘I saw the first episode, then my classes resumed. She keeps me up to date with the plot. The reason I’m telling you. Well, you know me, I like to get the facts straight.’
‘I understand.’
I did. He was attempting to provide Elaine with an alibi. Had he guessed that Paula had been wearing Luke’s blue and white sweater and realized that Luke might have been the intended victim? Could he really imagine Elaine had found out what had happened and was prepared to go to any lengths to get rid of her lodger? It was crazy — but people in a panic tend to have crazy ideas.
I called down the steps after him. ‘Don’t forget the garden centre.’
He raised an arm but didn’t look back. From the kitchen window I watched him unlock the padlock on his cycle and set off, freewheeling down the hill.
Janos had come up from the basement and was talking to the tiny woman from number twenty-three. She was dressed in a thick winter coat and was talking animatedly out of the corner of her mouth that didn’t hold her cigarette. Then Pam appeared from the ground-floor flat and crossed the road to join them.
When I opened the window I could hear them engrossed in their favourite topic of conversation: the shortage of road sweepers and refuse collectors. ‘It’s not good enough.’
‘I blame the council.’
‘Dirt breeds dirt.’
Janos looked up, saw me at the window and waved.
‘Any news, Anna?’
I shook my head and he pulled a face. ‘I’ll talk to you later, all right? I take Aaron to Leigh Woods but we find nothing. Later we walk along the path by the river.’
He had such a kind, sensitive face. Why on earth had I persuaded Luke to move out of his room and become Doug and Elaine’s lodger? But I had done it from the best of motives, wanting him to feel less isolated, more like part of a family.
I stepped back from the window and sat on the edge of the table. My hand brushed against something sticky. A blob of marmalade? Some of last night’s take-away? The job in the shop had been my idea too. Better than packing china in the basement of a department store. But if Luke had stayed in the same job Paula Redfern might still be alive. I cursed myself, not for trying to help Luke, but for the way I always ended up blaming myself for things beyond my control.
The phone started ringing. I picked it up expecting it to be Michael held up at the office, or Howard Fry with a couple more questions he had forgotten to ask.
‘Yes?’
There was no reply but neither did the caller ring off.
‘Hallo … Who is that?’
Still no response.
I held my breath, listening for any sounds that might tell me where the call was coming from. Passing traffic, the siren that warned motorists the Swing Bridge was about to open.
‘Luke? Is that you? Just tell me where you are and I’ll come and fetch you. Luke?’
Nothing. A short pause, then the dull purr of the dialling tone.
11
Michael was knocking on the door. I went to let him in. It was the first time I had seen him without a suit and he looked different, less the high-powered businessman. He was wearing rust-coloured trousers and a dark red shirt. He looked tired, preoccupied, then he smiled and walked past me into the flat.
‘Ready?’
‘Where are we going?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Well, I suppose we should start with a tour of the Clifton area.’
‘He’s hardly likely to be walking up Whiteladies Road.’
‘You don’t know Luke.’ He broke off. ‘Of course in a way you probably know him better than any of us.’
We stared at each other for a moment, then he turned and walked back out of the flat, calling over his shoulder. ‘Got everything you need?’
‘What did you have in mind?’
He laughed. ‘Oh, nothing in particular, only I’m not sure how long this is going to take.’
He ran down the steps ahead of me and waited on the pavement.
‘I parked a bit further up,’ he said. ‘We’ll go in mine, shall we, that way you’ll be free to scan the highways and byways.’
‘Yes, all right, but shouldn’t we be going on foot? We won’t see much from a car.’
Crossing the road to get a better view of the floating harbour he shaded his eyes against the hazy sun, then called to me to join him.
‘See those boats? I used to have one like that. They race pretty well if the wind’s right. You sail, I expect.’
I shook my head. ‘I tried it once, nearly got knocked out by the boom or whatever it’s called.’
He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Look, we both know this search is pretty much a lost cause, but at least it makes us feel we’re doing something. You can’t sit in that flat all day, blaming yourself for what’s happened.’
‘I’m not blaming myself.’
‘Good.’
I stopped to shake some grit out of my shoe.
‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘I thought you knew places where Luke might be hiding out.’ He sighed. ‘Long shots, but I suppose anything’s worth a try.’
We crossed the road, and turned the corner, passing a house that was being re-roofed. There was always building work going on in Cliftonwood. Renovations, one person moving out, another keen to get started on the home improvements. Scaffolding stuck out across most of the pavement. Michael stood back to let me go first, then caught up again and started talking animatedly.
‘What would you be doing if this was a normal weekend?’
‘Me? Oh, shopping, cleaning the flat.’
‘All weekend?’ Did he want to know if I had someone who spent most of the weekend with me? ‘Doesn’t sound much fun.’
‘I enjoy the rest.’
‘Of course.’
His car was a white Honda CRX. The new model.
‘Good for business,’ he said, holding open the passenger door. ‘You know what they say? Nothing succeeds like success.’
We drove up Clifton Down Road, turning left alon
g Princess Victoria Street, then weaving our way between parked cars and pedestrians, making for Sion Hill and the Suspension Bridge.
‘Leigh Woods?’ said Michael.
I shook my head. ‘I doubt if he’d be there and even if he was we’d never find him.’
I thought about Aaron sniffing his way through the undergrowth, wagging his tail non-stop, hoping to find something exciting. A rabbit, a half-eaten burger bun, something far worse.
‘We’ll go up College Road, shall we,’ I said.
‘Whatever you think best. You know this part of Bristol better than I do. I suppose Luke does too. Since he’s never learned to drive, or even bought himself a bike, he must be used to walking long distances.’
We passed Clifton College playing fields, then turned right into Guthrie Road and slowed down near the entrance to the zoo. A coachload of children was waiting by the turnstile, chattering and squealing, each with a brightly coloured backpack. A youth leader finished counting them, then started all over again.
‘Up Pembroke Road,’ I said, ‘then across the Downs and back through Westbury Park. That’s where Paula lived.’
‘You think he might have gone to her flat?’
‘She only had a room.’
‘We could ask the other tenants. It’s possible they might have seen him.’
‘I don’t know the address,’ I said, wishing I had asked Howard Fry a few questions myself.
The whole morning had an air of unreality. The police station. Doug. This pointless tour of Clifton.
‘I know,’ said Michael, ‘what about his old lodgings? I realize he won’t be there now but at the very least they might know Paula’s address.’
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’
He glanced at me. ‘Why not? He might have been to see them, wanted them to explain why they wouldn’t have him back.’
‘Doug would have told me if he had. In any case, you know Luke, he never confronts anyone if he can possibly avoid it.’
The mist that had made the day seem dull and overcast was starting to clear. Michael turned on the radio, then switched it off again as a DJ started gabbling the names of the last three recordings. The inside of his car was immaculate.
