thought he saw the curtains twitch as they walked towards it. Gristhorpe knocked, and a few moments later a skinny young man with long, greasy hair answered.
Gristhorpe introduced himself and Richmond, and the young man let them in. The place was furnished exactly the same as next door: sideboard along one wall, a small television on a stand, two armchairs, an open fireplace, wall-to-wall dark carpets and wallpaper patterned with grapevines against an off-white background. Job lot, no doubt. The young man had made his mark by arranging a row of books along the sideboard, using wine bottles as bookends. They were mostly poetry, Gristhorpe noticed, and a couple of local wildlife guides.
“This won’t take long,” he said to the youth, who had introduced himself as Tony Roper. “I’d just like to know if you can tell me anything about your neighbours.”
“Not really,” said Tony, leaning against the sideboard. “I mean, I came here mostly for the isolation, so I didn’t do much mixing.” He had a Scottish accent, Gristhorpe noticed, leaning more towards Glasgow than Edinburgh.
“Did you meet them?”
“Just in passing.”’
“Did they introduce themselves?”
“The Manleys. Chris and Connie. That’s what they said. They seemed pleasant enough. Always had a smile
and a hello whenever we bumped into one another. Look, what’s wrong? Nothing’s happened to them, has it?”
“When did you last see them?”
Tony frowned. “Let me see … It was a couple of days ago. Thursday, I think. Thursday morning. They were going off in the car.”
“Did they say where?”
“No. I didn’t ask.”
“Had they packed all their stuff, as if they were leaving?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t notice. Sorry. I was out walking most of the time.”
“It’s all right,” Gristhorpe said. “Just try and remember what you can. Did you see or hear them after that time?”
“Come to think of it, I don’t reckon I did. But they never made much noise anyway. Maybe a bit of telly in the evenings. That’s about all.”
“Did they ever have any visitors?”
“Not that I know of.”
“You never heard them arguing or talking with anyone?”
“No.”
“Were they out a lot?”
“A fair bit, I’d say. But so was I. I’ve been doing a lot of walking, meditating, writing. I’m really sorry, but I honestly didn’t pay them a lot of attention. I’ve been pretty much lost in my own world.”
“That’s all right,” Gristhorpe said. “You’re doing fine. What did they look like?”
“Well, he … Chris … was about medium height, with light, sandy-coloured hair brushed back. Receding a bit. He looked quite fit, wiry, you know, and he had a pleasant, open kind of smile. The kind you could trust.”
“Any distinctive features?”
“You mean scars, tattoos, that kind of thing?”
“Anything.”
Tony shook his head. “No. He was quite ordinary looking, really. I just noticed the smile, that’s all.”
“How old would you say he was?”
“Hard to say. I’d guess he was in his late twenties.”
“What about the woman?”
“Connie?” Tony blushed a little. “Well, Connie’s a blonde. I don’t know if it’s real or not. Maybe a year or two younger than him. Very pretty. A real looker. She’s got lovely blue eyes, a really smooth complexion, a bit pale …”
“How tall?”
“An inch or two shorter than him.”
“What about her figure?”
Tony blushed again. “Nice. I mean, nice so’s you’d notice in the street, especially in those tight jeans she wore, and the white T-shirt.”
Gristhorpe smiled and nodded. “Did you notice what kind of car they drove?”
“Yes. It was parked outside often enough. It was a Fiesta.”
“What colour?”
“White.”
“Did they always dress casually?”
“I suppose so. I never paid much attention, except to her, of course. Now I think of it, Chris was a bit more
