“What’s wrong with him? He soft or something?”
Seth shook his head. “Somehow I don’t think so, no. He just has a different technique.”
“They’re all bastards when you get right down to it,” Rick added.
Paul agreed. “So what’s been happening here?” he asked.
232
Seth filled him in on the police visits. “Apart from that, not much really.
We’ve all been worrying about you most of the time.” He ruffled Paul’s hair.
“Glad you’re back, kid. Nice new haircut, too.”
Paul blushed. “Fuck off. Anyway, nothing’s changed, has it?”
“What do you mean?” Mara asked.
“Well, they still don’t have their killer and they’re not going to stop till they do. And if they don’t get someone else, I’m still their best bet. That Burgess bastard made that quite clear.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Seth said. “We won’t let them blame it on you.”
Paul looked at his watch. “Nearly opening time,” he said. “I could do with a pint and some nosh.”
“We’ll have to eat at the pub today, anyway,” Mara said. “I’ve not made any dinner. What with that meeting and all….”
“What meeting?” Paul asked.
“We’re getting together to talk about the demo this afternoon,” Rick said.
“Dennis is bringing Tim and Abha up about three. We want to look over statements and stuff to prove police brutality.”
“Well you can count me out,” Paul said. “I’ve had enough of that bleeding demo, and those fucking do-gooders. Sod ‘em all.”
“You don’t have to stick around,” Mara told him. “Not if you don’t want.”
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” Paul said, calming down. “Being cooped up in that cell hasn’t done my head much good.”
“And I’ve got work to do,” Seth said. “I’ve got to finish that bureau today.
It’s already overdue.”
“What’s this?” Rick said. “Is everybody copping out on us?”
“I’ll put my two penn’orth in, first, don’t worry,” Seth said. “Then I’ll get some work done. As for now, I think Paul’s right. They do a nice Sunday lunch at the Black Sheep and I’m starving.”
233
Seth put his arm around Paul. The others stood up and went for their coats. In the fresh spring air, the seven of them walked down the track to Relton, happy together for the last time.
Except for Mara. The others might realize it, too, she thought, but nobody’s saying anything. If Paul isn’t guilty, then someone else here is.
Ill
Jenny was already waiting when Banks came into the Queen’s Arms at lunchtime.
Hungry, he arranged with Cyril for a few slices of roast leg of lamb. Glenys wasn’t around, and Cyril, though he said nothing, seemed distracted.
“So,” Jenny said, resting her elbows on the table and cupping her chin in her hands, “what’s new? Dennis told me you dropped by. Thanks for going.”
“He didn’t thank me.”
Jenny smiled. “Well, he wouldn’t, would he?”
“You didn’t tell me it was you who persuaded him to talk to me in the first place.”
The lines around her eyes crinkled. “Didn’t I? Sorry. But did you find anything out?”
“Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means no, I suppose. Have you ever noticed a blue Escort with two burly men in it hanging around Osmond’s place?”
“No. Haven’t you got any ideas, Alan?”
“Maybe one. It seems a bit far-fetched, but if I’m right… .”
“Right about what?”
“Just an idea, that’s all.”
“Can you tell me?”
“I’d rather not. Best wait and see. Richmond’s working on it.”
