McAvoy said, 'Why don't you try over there? That guy'll know him - spent a week working on his vehicle. Makes more sense than approaching a man you're asking to incriminate himself.'
She glanced over at the garage. The mechanic, a big man with heavily muscled arms, was working on the exhaust of a vehicle sitting up on an overhead ramp. 'Stay here.'
She stepped between puddles on the rough gravel, water seeping through the soles of her shoes. She made it to the concrete forecourt and approached the doorway. She'd never been sure of the etiquette in these places - should she wait for him to come to her or call out?
She knew from the glance he'd cast as she headed over that he'd seen her, but he let her stand there getting colder while he continued to wind off another bolt.
'Hello,' she called out, competing with a radio that was pumping out non-stop nineties techno.
Only when he was good and ready did he turn slightly and look her over. 'What can I do for you?'
'My name's Jenny Cooper. I'm the Severn Vale District Coroner. I'm trying to locate one of your customers. Have you got a moment?'
The mechanic slotted the spanner into a long pocket on the leg of his overalls and ducked out from under the ramp, wiping oil-stained hands on the backs of his thighs. He was tall, six-three at least, and broad as a bull across the shoulders.
Jenny told him politely about the man with the ponytail who owned a Mark i Land Rover.
The mechanic's eyes flicked towards the carpentry shop as he worked out who had sent her here.
'I would appreciate your assistance. He could be an important witness.'
He slowly shook his massive head. 'Don't know who you mean.'
'You made something for him last autumn ... a cover . . .' Jenny said, out of her depth talking to mechanics. 'One of the Latvian guys over there helped you.'
'Not me,' he said, and turned back towards the ramp.
Jenny said, 'Excuse me. I'm not sure you realize how serious this is. I could call you as a witness.'
'Go ahead.' He fetched out his spanner and went back to work.
'Then you can expect a summons. I'll see you in court on Monday morning,' she threatened feebly and to no effect.
'Hey, big fella.' She turned to see McAvoy coming across the gravel at a jog. 'You ought to know who it is you're protecting.'
Jenny gave him a look that pleaded for him to stay away.
He held up his hands, 'Relax.' He called out to the mechanic, 'This ponytail guy's a nonce. Likes to spray paint on little kiddies.'
The big man turned round.
'That's right. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to have people like that known to be my friends. The way people talk—'
Jenny said, 'Please, Alec, for Christ's sake.'
Ignoring her, McAvoy stepped over to the ramp and pressed the button that released the hydraulics. The mechanic darted out from underneath as it started down, the spanner in his hand, 'The fuck are you doing?'
'Getting your attention.' McAvoy took a step forward. 'Forget about a pick-up truck - hell will rain down on you, my friend, if you don't try to be a little more helpful. . .'
The mechanic tightened his grip on the spanner. Jenny watched, open-mouthed. The muscles in her throat contracted in panic.
'A little girl of six years old, that's who he preyed on. You want someone like that going about?' McAvoy moved forward another half step, inches away from the taller, much heftier man, 'Or do you want to do the decent thing?'
Jenny watched, disbelieving, as the mechanic met McAvoy's eyes, raised the spanner a fraction ready to strike, weighed the odds, then slowly lowered it, lifting his chin defiantly as he took a step back. Without saying a word he crossed to the messy shelf - a plank laid across stacks of tyres - that served as his office, tore off a scrap of paper and scratched on it with a stub of pencil. He handed the note to Jenny then disappeared into the back of the building. He'd written:
They sat in stationary traffic outside what had once been a cattle market. Their damp coats were steaming up the windows, making Jenny feel increasingly claustrophobic. She wanted to take a pill but didn't dare in front of McAvoy: she already felt as if she had no secrets from him, as if he had an unnatural ability to detect her weaknesses and work his way into them.
He broke the silence which had persisted since they'd left the garage. 'You don't want to pay this man a visit now you're out here?'
'I'm not a detective,' Jenny said flatly.
'But you'll have to ask him to make a statement saying where he was that night.'
'I'll send my officer.'
They crept forward several feet. The lights ahead flicked back to red.
'If you ask me, you should show your face, let him know you mean business. Politely, of course.'
Jenny tapped her thumbs nervously on the wheel, keeping her eyes fixed on the road ahead, fighting the feeling that the sides of the car were closing in on her.
'If you don't,' McAvoy said, 'he might just slip through your fingers. Those Latvian guys have seen him a few times. The boy in the car-rental place will already have called his boss, the mechanic might even have tipped him off, we don't know. If it were any other case, you might say to yourself the police can always help me out, but I doubt that's an option here.'
'What's it to you anyway?' Jenny said. 'Why this case? You're not even getting paid for it.'
He nodded towards the distant tower of the cathedral, poking above the faux city wall surrounding a supermarket on the far side of the lights. 'Same reason they built that - seems like the right thing to do.'
'The spirit moved you, huh?'
'If you like.'
Jenny said, 'Why do I feel cynical?'
'Why wouldn't you - a man with my history?'
'Well, there you are. You can see why I'm not about to drive you out to say hello to Mr Tathum.'
McAvoy wiped his window with his cuff. 'You know, Jenny, I don't believe it's me you're frightened of, or Tathum - whoever he may be. I think the person who scares the living shit out of you is you.' He looked at her sideways across his shoulder, studying her face with a quizzical frown. 'I followed that case you did last year, the kid who died in custody. That must've taken some guts. And you know what I believe?'
Jenny closed her eyes and shook her head. He'd done it again, cut right through her.
'That we find ourselves in these situations for a reason. I bet you learned something about yourself. Took on those principalities and powers without even thinking. I'll bet it's only afterwards you thought to be scared.'
'Not quite true.'
'What I'm saying is you know as well as I do what it is to be moved. It's not comfortable. The first time you're swept up on the wave. Each time after that you tend to have a choice.'
The address was that of a small stone farmhouse in the shadow of the Black Mountains. From the village of Peter- church they threaded along three miles of narrow lane, which dissolved into a further half mile of rough track. It was fully dark by the time Jenny pulled up at the gate to an untidy yard littered with tools and building materials. The house, which looked like two cottages joined together, was in the process of being renovated. One half looked inhabited and had lights in the downstairs windows, the other was still a roofless shell. She made McAvoy promise, swear on the Holy Mother herself, that he would stay in the car. He told her to please herself and reclined his seat a touch, settling back for a nap.
She lifted the latch on the heavy gate and picked her way across the pot-holed yard by the light of a miniature torch on her key fob, passing the elderly Land Rover with its smart new aluminium hard top. Before raising the heavy iron knocker on the front door she looked back at her Golf to check: in the darkness McAvoy was invisible. He'd better stay that way.
A man dressed in jeans and a paint-spattered sweatshirt answered. Dogs barked excitedly from behind an
