‘Is something wrong?’ she said. ‘Are you ill?’
He shook his head. Back to minimal communication.
‘I’ve got painkillers if you want.’
‘No.’
She collected his coat. She wondered if she’d touched on some painful memory when she commented on the news of the dead woman. A man with a stricken past was a minefield.
They went downstairs to the car and were soon south of the city on the Selsey Road.
‘It’s been a good afternoon, anyway,’ she said to break the silence.
He said nothing.
One thing she’d learned was that you didn’t force Jake to communicate. Trying to hold back her tears, she gave all her attention to the series of sharp bends. The light was fading fast.
‘I don’t know exactly where you live,’ she had to say when they were approaching Selsey.
‘Keep going.’
They had driven some way up the High Street before he said, ‘Next left.’
She made the turn and he immediately said, ‘Put me down here.’
‘Now?’
‘Here. Don’t hang about.’
Up ahead, under a lamp-post, a police car was parked. He got out and started walking towards it.
TEN
All the way back to Chichester Jo was trying to make sense of Jake’s behaviour. She drove as if on autopilot and when she got out she had no memory of being in control of the car.
Her neighbour Doreen was in the hall, smiling and blocking the way, poised for a chat. Jo muttered something about being in a hurry, brushed past, and dashed up the stairs.
For a long time she sat in her living room staring at the wall. She wasn’t able to be rational. Her emotions had taken charge. Until now she hadn’t appreciated the impact this man had made on her. She was locked into his destiny. She cared enormously what happened to him. If he was in trouble, then so was she. Whatever had happened, she couldn’t believe the fault was his.
Eventually she composed herself enough to think back to the news item that had triggered the change in his mood. This, she was sure, had affected him more than anything she’d said herself. Affected him? Poleaxed described it better. His features had crumpled into an image of pain. Was it just the knowledge that the murder victim had been identified, or did the woman’s name mean something to him? He’d texted someone as if to confirm the news.
Whilst driving him back to Selsey in that almost unbearable silence, Jo had convinced herself that he’d recognised the name. He knew who the woman was and was grieving for the loss of a friend. Not an intimate friend-she was someone’s wife, for God’s sake-but someone he’d known from way back.
The police car in his street had come as more of a shock for her than Jake. When he’d insisted Jo didn’t drive up to the house she was reminded that he didn’t want her involved in whatever had to be faced. This was his overriding concern, the reason he’d been so reluctant to be seen with her in Selsey, why he’d worn the hood and why he wouldn’t even sit in a cafe and drink coffee. He was being protective. The moment he saw that police car he’d got out and walked towards it, dignified, resigned, and alone.
It was as if he’d expected the police to be there. His moment of shock had come earlier. By the time they’d driven to Selsey he was in control, calm, and resigned. He knew what to expect because he’d texted the police to tell them he was coming in.
She remembered his words that evening in the Lifeboat Inn after he’d been released from custody: ‘They’re sure I did it. They only let me go because they don’t have the evidence yet.’
A moaning sound, primal in its despair, came from the back of her throat.
She wanted desperately to know what was happening, but phoning Jake was not an option. He’d made a point of giving nothing away to the police about their friendship. To call him now would be a betrayal of all his efforts. She had to wait.
Her eyes moistened. Tears would not be long in coming. She felt for the box of tissues on the table beside her and her hand came to rest on something smooth and square-the Glenn Gould CD case. Jake had been the last to handle it. Instead of a tissue she pressed the cool perspex against her cheek. The disc, his choice, was still in the player. She reached for the remote and pressed PLAY. The music was a solace.
Jake was a suspect because of his time in prison. In his own harsh phrase he was an ex-con. ‘Crazy things happen to me,’ he’d said. ‘I don’t want you drawn into it.’
They would question him again. Presumably they’d found out about his connection with the dead woman, his friend. Or maybe, Jo reasoned-looking for a more acceptable explanation-the woman hadn’t been a particular friend, but just one of the many birdwatchers who visited the nature reserve at Pagham and were shown where some rare species could be observed. Something as innocent as that. Under questioning he would explain the coincidence and they’d have to release him.
In her heart she knew that couldn’t be so. Jake would fold. He wasn’t capable of explaining anything under the workover he’d get. They’d harass and bully him until he broke down. They’d find some spurious evidence and stitch him up.
She used the Kleenex this time.
Stop being a wimp, she told herself. All this speculation was negative and wouldn’t help Jake or herself. The sensible thing was to get more information. Knowledge was strength, and if anyone needed some strength right now, she did. The dead woman’s name was distinctive and so was her husband’s. He was a university lecturer. Lecturer in what, and where?
She collected her laptop, switched on, put the name ‘Sentinel’ into a search engine and waited to see if anything came up.
Over a hundred hits appeared straight away. This was hot news:
Selsey Murder Victim Named
Police investigating the murder by drowning of a woman in Selsey have today named the victim as Mrs Meredith Sentinel, 38. She was the wife of Dr Austen Sentinel, a geology lecturer at Imperial College, London, who has recently returned from a conference in St Petersburg. He was not aware of his wife’s disappearance. Upon finding she had not used their Islington house for several days he informed the police. From his description they linked her to the murder victim and confirmed the identity with photographs. This morning he formally identified the body as that of his wife.
Mrs Sentinel was American by birth and came to this country to pursue an academic career. She met and married Austen Sentinel in 1990, when she was an undergraduate and he a visiting lecturer at the University of Sussex. She later obtained a D. Sc in Zoology and was employed part time at the Natural History Museum, South Kensington. Her parents still live in Louisville, Kentucky, and are reported to be devastated.
As yet the police have been unable to account for the circumstances of Mrs Sentinel’s death. Her almost nude body was found on the beach at Selsey, West Sussex, on September 30. The post mortem revealed that she was held under water until she drowned. Despite an extensive search of the beach and adjacent gardens her clothes have still not been found. She had not indicated to her husband that she intended to visit Selsey while he was abroad.
DCI Henrietta Mallin of Chichester CID is leading the enquiry and has appealed for help from the public. ‘We have interviewed a number of individuals who were on the beach on the day the body was found, but we still know very little about Mrs Sentinel’s last hours. Anyone with information should contact Sussex Police using the emergency number.
Another website had a photo of the couple wearing evening clothes and holding glasses of wine. Meredith Sentinel was blonde and her hair was pinned up except for some wayward strands suggesting that the party had passed the point when perfect grooming mattered. The look in her blue eyes helped to create the impression. A gorgeous, sexy woman, Jo thought. The birdwatcher theory was unravelling already. She couldn’t imagine this
