Like Dan? Too bad you’re fond of him but not fond enough to want him as more than a friend. He misses you, Alex. ‘Could be a good idea,’ he said. And he had not failed to notice Alex referring to her house as ‘our other house’. Things were finally moving with these two.
‘Will you set up an incident room in the parish hall?’ Alex asked. ‘Gosh, I can’t believe this is happening again.’
‘Possibly the parish hall. As to the other.’ He shrugged. ‘We are a society of our times and they’re complex. And let’s not forget that this time the players have some definite connections to an old case in the area.’ He knew he got too comfortable with these people, perhaps talked too freely.
Without warning, Radhika got to her feet and stood in front of him. The anguish on her face shocked him.
‘No,’ she said when he went to get up. ‘Please, stay there. I’ll speak fast and get this to you. I have been very foolish, Bill. There are photographs I have brought to give you, but it is not that. It is the woman. I saw her.’ She put a hand over her mouth.
He got up and took her by the arms. ‘Calm down, please. Nothing is so bad it should make you suffer, Radhika.’
‘It isn’t,’ Tony broke in. ‘Here are the photos.’ He came and thrust them into Bill’s hands.
‘Hugh?’ He turned the first one over and saw the words, ‘My Hugh’ on the back. Damn it, he should have had this when they interviewed the man, but there would be a next time.
The blurred second photo was of a man in front of a multi-colored wall of some kind. It would have to be dealt with by the lab and, he hoped, turned into something useful.
‘I’m the one who made a stupid mistake,’ Alex said. ‘They were found by Sam Brock among that woman’s things at Green Friday. He gave them to me and I should have turned them over to you, but I put them down at the Black Dog, couldn’t find them afterward and thought they had been thrown away.
‘Scoot Gammage had picked them up and been nervous it could spell trouble for Hugh. His brother, Kyle, took them to Radhika this morning. He works at the clinic after school some days and trusts her. He was really scared they’d get into trouble.’
‘I told him it would be all right,’ Radhika all but whispered.
‘OK,’ he said, glancing at Alex. Now he had a second apparently guilt-ridden woman on his hands. ‘We’ll get all this sorted and recorded properly.’ And they might have to have a more formal discussion since Alex’s explanation was more than sketchy.
‘Please let me tell you,’ Radhika said, looking up at him. ‘As you know, the tower at the Trap Lane house is finished. I like to look out of the window at the top because I can see so far and it makes me happy.
‘On the day Alex came to visit me and see the house, she left when it was getting quite dark. There are no lights in the lane and it winds so she didn’t stay too long. I watched the headlights of her car when she started driving down.
‘I can see Green Friday, the house – where the driveway widens there, and the steps. My tower is closer to Green Friday than you might think. There is a light that comes on over the front door when it gets dark. A woman came there – from inside – and she looked wild. She walked, then she ran a step, and stumbled and kept going. She may have been without shoes. I didn’t see her for long at all. Perhaps only seconds. But I should have made sure she was all right, only I judged her. I thought she was drunk and perhaps not behaving well, so I turned away.
‘Bill, could she have been the woman who is missing?’
Shit, who knew what another human being would think of or do in any situation? ‘I don’t know, my love, I don’t know. Can you tell me anything about her, anything at all? How big she might have been? How old? What she was wearing?’ He decided not to mention the anonymous call by someone claiming to have seen Hugh in the driveway at Green Friday.
Radhika was pale beneath her golden skin. She repeatedly shook her head, no, then said, ‘I cannot be sure, Bill. I am so sorry. She was not old. Long, bright hair but I couldn’t see her face. She wore something very rich. Like the color of ripe persimmons, I thought.’
SIXTEEN
The back door into the Black Dog kitchens swung shut behind Alex. The first things she heard were a woman’s rich, low voice singing ‘Trouble Town’, and the piano. Something completely unexpected, especially at lunch time.
She almost left, but leaned against the door instead. Elyan Quillam and his sister, Laura, had been on her mind together with an overwhelming sadness at what had befallen that family. The last thing she wanted to hear was a woman singing an evocative, bluesy song to the piano. She had such a clear memory of Annie Bell singing Jazz while Elyan, the brilliant classical pianist, bowed over the keys to play that same piano with so much skill and glee.
She looked down into Bogie’s shiny black eyes. He had some grey on his muzzle now. ‘You look distinguished, boy,’ she told him lightly and bent to scratch him between his twitching ears. He hovered just long enough not to be rude, or so she told herself, then shot off into the bar and his favorite spot by the fireplace.
Alex sighed. Pull yourself together. Scoot and Kyle need reassurance, you need to check on Annie, and make sure Radhika isn’t beating herself up for whatever she thinks she did wrong … and call the clinic in Cheltenham. She bit her lip.
And who the hell was on the piano that had been turned to the wall and covered for such a long time?
‘Hey, stranger.’ Hugh came from the bar into the kitchen looking and sounding breezier than he had in days. ‘I thought you must have taken the day off.’
‘Nope.’ She almost told him she’d been talking with Bill Lamb but thought better of it. ‘Who’s playing the piano? I thought we had it covered up.’
‘We did – in the uproom.’ The uproom as it had been dubbed, was a step higher than the rest of the bar with wooden tables and high-backed bench seats where some customers liked to have a meal in the early evening. ‘It’s OK, isn’t it? We used to have someone in to play and sing up there. Could be time to start that again. Makes a change and people like it.’
‘You know why we stopped, Hugh. We weren’t in the mood after the Quillam fiasco.’
‘Right, but we move on. That’s Carrie. Who knew she had a good voice.’
‘Carrie?’ Alex frowned. ‘Our Carrie Peale? You’re joking.’
‘That’s who it is. She came in, turned the piano around on her own as if it were a wheeled suitcase – a small one at that – and started in. She’s good. But she’s mad as hell, Alex, and I think that’s why she’s doing it. Letting off steam. She works hard while Harvey swills beer, rides around on his friend’s motorbike, and talks about himself.’
Alex recognized the sound of two hands crashing down on the piano keys and went into the bar.
In her paint-and-clay daubed overalls and worn-out sandals, Carrie Peale came to the counter. ‘Afternoon, Alex,’ she said. ‘Do you have any tea?’
‘Of course.’ Alex smiled. ‘Half a mo’.’ She popped back to the kitchen, surprised not to find Hugh still there, and was grateful a teapot under a cozy felt piping hot and smelled fresh.
She took a cup back to Carrie who had the fingers of one hand over her mouth.
‘Funny you should come in today,’ Alex said. ‘I’ve been thinking about asking you to make me some mugs with the name of the pub on them. Perhaps with a black dog like the one on our sign.’
That got her a curious gaze and a long silence, but Carrie dropped her hand.
‘Of course,’ Alex said finally, ‘that may not be your kind of thing. I know you like making one offs, but—’
‘I’ll be glad to,’ Carrie said hurriedly. ‘I’ll bring in some samples. What color do you think? All the same, right?’
‘I think so – but why don’t we have different shapes? Whatever catches your fancy. I plan to have the sign out front repainted. It’s faded. I think the black dog would look good against a deep sky blue, don’t you? The mugs could be fired in the same co
lors. I’ll sell them here – people like that sort of thing – but we’ll settle on a price up front.’
‘I like those colors, but you’re only doing this to help me.’ Carrie turned her face away.
There were times when protest only proved the issue. ‘Partly,’ Alex admitted. ‘Partly because I think it’s a good idea that would be good for both of us. I’d put up a sign that pub mugs are coming and they’re from your pottery. Will you definitely do it?’ Sometimes you had to push a point quickly.
Carrie wrinkled her upturned nose for a moment, then said, ‘Yes, I will. It could get the odd looker into my pottery and I can use anything on two feet that breathes and can buy. Sounds awful, but since we’re being honest …’
‘Sounds sensible to me,’ Alex said.
The bar was mostly empty, but Harvey Peale and the fellow from the Gentlemen Bikers he hung around with sat nearby with half-empty pint glasses and completely empty shots. They had pushed aside plates with remnants of chips and crumbs from pies. Harvey was less loquacious than usual, at least when he was drinking, and his companion spoke to him earnestly.
‘He’s in here all the time now,’ Carrie said without turning around. ‘Harvey never stops talking about him. Loads of money, so he says, loudly. Saul. One of those city types who rides around on a great big expensive cycle pretending to be a biker. He’s been holding forth that Harvey needs to get completely away, somewhere he can devote all his emotional energy to his writing.’
Alex didn’t know how to respond.
‘He’s even offered to pay for a retreat place where Harvey can write without responsibilities.’ Her crooked little smile turned Alex’s heart. ‘That’s pretty rich, don’t you think?’
The sight of Annie coming through from the restaurant and looking completely recovered grabbed all her attention. She waved and Annie waved back but turned to wait for Hugh to catch up with her.
Without being sure why, Alex balled a tight fist hard on the counter. Her forehead tensed. Annie was smiling widely at Hugh who crinkled his eyes at her.
Oh, my God. What am I looking at?
Carrie followed Alex’s gaze. ‘Oh, my,’ she whispered. ‘Looks as if Hugh’s finally got a woman in his life. About time.’
Short of explaining Annie’s history, Alex could only keep her mouth closed and try to set her thoughts on neutral. As usual, she’d jumped to a bewildering conclusion. But the two of them did look at each other with more than casual warmth.
Hugh approached the counter with Annie’s hand looped under his forearm. She truly didn’t look like the same person Alex and Tony had brought here so recently. Her auburn hair shone in waves past her shoulders. Her pale skin appeared translucent and healthy and her big, dark eyes shone – on Hugh.
‘Hello, Alex,’ Annie said. ‘Thank you for putting up with me cluttering up the place. I don’t know what kind of bug hit me, but I feel so much better. Hello,’ she said to Carrie. ‘I’m Annie Bell. I’m here on holiday but I’ve been to Folly a lot and I love the place.’
‘Carrie Peale. I’m a local potter.’ Her interest in Annie was evident. ‘We’ve been here less than a year. Sounds as if you’ve been ill. I hope you’re better.’
‘A potter? How wonderful. Here in Folly? I’ll come and look at what you make. Pottery makes such lovely gifts.’
Hugh slipped free of Annie and joined Alex behind the counter. ‘I insisted Annie come down,’ he said quietly. ‘She can’t hang around upstairs all the time. Did I hear you’re going to use some of your house for friends who need a place to stay? Could Annie stay there for a week or so? I don’t know when Green Friday will be available again.’
And Alex couldn’t imagine Annie wanting to go anywhere near Green Friday after what had happened there. ‘I have mentioned using the house if necessary,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t want to stay on here?’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ Hugh said, glancing away.
‘Well … how long will she be in Folly? I don’t really know why she came.’
‘She told me she likes the people here and I get the feeling she’s pretty lonely. So far she hasn’t opened up to me completely but I think there’s a lot she hasn’t told me. You and I should talk about that. Her parents wanted her to cut any ties to Elyan so she cut ties with them – or that’s how she’s putting it. She even mentioned wanting to live here in Folly.’
Alex waited for him to meet her eyes. ‘Hugh, what would she do in Folly? Does she have independent means? I don’t get this.’
‘Neither do I,’ he said. ‘I think we should let her work these things out. She’s old enough to make up her own mind.’
‘Well, look who we have here.’ Smiling, Hugh braced himself on the edge of the counter. ‘Harriet and Mary. They’re not usually middle-of-the-day visitors.’
The sisters came in through the main door to the pub, Harriet pulling Mary’s tartan-covered shopping cart that would contain Max the cat, while Alex knew a little blanket bundle in Mary’s walker basket held the elderly Maltese, Lillie Belle.
Harriet gave a waggle-fingered wave and they progressed to their table beside the fire and an ecstatic Bogie.
‘Let’s talk about Annie’s plans a bit later,’ Alex said to Hugh. Carrie and Annie were talking animatedly. ‘Is she all right, do you think? She doesn’t seem hyper to you?’
‘Not really. Just more like she used to be when I first met her – vivacious – except she needs friends around her. She really is on her own. She’s got some notions I don’t understand. It’s almost as if someone’s been deliberately planting negative ideas in her head. We could help her here.’
Alex didn’t trust herself to look at him too directly. All she said was, ‘Hm.’ What Annie needed was to at least make a start on letting go of the past and getting back to the normal life someone in their early twenties might lead.
And for herself, Alex desperately wanted to get rid of her fears about Hugh. For Hugh. He had some involvement with whatever happened at Green Friday that night. It could well be innocent of any wrongdoing, but she would be a fool not to wonder.
Harvey Peale’s friend, Saul, got up from their table and approached Annie and Carrie. He smiled at Annie and spoke in low tones, evidently turning on charm, before leading them both away from the counter. Annie seemed unphased, pleased even, but Carrie’s suspicion showed. The two women sat with Harvey while Saul remained standing.
When she realized her mouth was open, Alex shut it firmly. The actions of adults were their business.
‘I’ll go and see what Harriet and Mary would like,’ she said. ‘They might go for a steak and kidney pie.’
But she didn’t leave the spot where she stood. Instead she grasped Hugh’s shirtsleeve and stopped breathing. He followed her gaze and drew in a deep breath. ‘What does he want? He looks as if he’s ready to blow.’
Wells Giglio was Percy Quillam’s agent; had been Elyan Quillam’s agent also. An eccentrically dressed man given to drama, he emoted in a dramatically Latin manner and Alex would have preferred never to be in his company again.
‘He’s here because the police contacted him,’ she said. ‘Has to be. Someone said he was in Paris – with Percy – then fending off gossip there after the death. That’s a bit hard to swallow. For the brief time I knew him before, I’d have said he thrived on gossip – and stirring it up whenever he could.’ She would not say that the man was a day earlier than she’d been told he would arrive.
Red hair springing from a central part to curl over his ears, a large black silk handkerchief flopping from the jacket pocket of his pale gray linen suit and a pair of the colorful – leaf green this time – suede shoes Alex remembered him favoring, Wells surveyed the barroom. His narrow face with its memorable bony features was twisted into an expression of anguish – and anger.
His gaze came to rest on Annie Bell. ‘You!’ More an accusation than a question or greeting. ‘You know everything. Of course you’re still here. You may fool everyone e
lse with your little girl act, but you don’t fool me. I’m going to make sure you don’t keep on making mischief.’
Annie didn’t answer. She took a deep breath, placed her hands flat on the table and waited.
Alex made to go to Annie, but Hugh stopped her. ‘This could be hard on her,’ he murmured. ‘But we should probably let him have his say in case it’s useful.’
‘It’s a good point,’ Alex agreed. ‘But it concerns me that she’s so vulnerable and I don’t think she collapsed from the flu or whatever. I think she was mentally exhausted. Histrionics from Wells Giglio won’t help. But I’ll try to wait.’
The room had fallen mostly silent although Harvey Peale’s leathered companion had moved to rest his hands on Annie’s shoulders. And Annie wasn’t shrugging him off, or complaining …
‘Percy Quillam is dead,’ Wells announced, as if he were delivering news. ‘He came looking for Sonia. Now I’m looking for Sonia. Where is she, Annie?’
SEVENTEEN
‘I fucking hate this place,’ Jillian Miller announced and slammed her black shoulder bag on a metal desktop in Folly-on-Weir’s parish hall. ‘Isn’t there anywhere else in this goddamn place we can set up an incident room … guv?’
‘Not that I know of,’ Bill said, turning his back on her to watch a sergeant work on a whiteboard – one of several attached to a row of screens that cut off line-of-sight from any casual visitor to the hall. ‘We’ve used this place on a number of occasions, Miller. It works just fine. Give the Black Dog a ring and arrange for the usual refreshments, please. They don’t deliver.’ He stopped short of telling her to pick a couple of officers to help her fetch and carry, but she drove a man to contemplate small-minded retribution. Wishing Jillian Miller on Dan O’Reilly in his new position wasn’t kind but Bill would be delighted if she went for a transfer to anywhere that would have her.
Trap Lane Page 14
