Annie looked up at Fathy. This was going to be a hard one, his expression said.
'Make some tea,' she hissed at him, then, taking the other woman's hands in her own, Annie knelt down beside her.
'Mr Jaffrey's been found, Sara. He's not coming back, though.
You know that, don't you?'
The black eyes full of tears stared at Annie uncomprehendingly.
'You'll find him, yes?'
Annie shook her head. 'He's not coming back, Sara,' she repeated gently. 'The other officers who came here, they told you that, didn't they?'
Sara Jaffrey continued to look at DC Irvine, eyes wide with disbelief then the first tears brimmed over and a quiet keening noise issued from her lips.
'We have to ask you things about your husband, Sara,' Annie continued gently. Tut if it's too much we can always come back?'
The woman looked blank for a moment then gave a ripple of sobs that ended in a long sigh.
'What can I tell you?' she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
'When did Mr Jaffrey disappear?' Annie asked.
There was a short pause and Annie realised that Sara Jaffrey was probably struggling to remember what day of the week it was.
'He didn't come home on Friday night,' she said at last. 'My son…' she broke off as Fathy entered bearing a tray of steaming mugs. 'No, thank you,' she said, a tremulous smile directed at the handsome young Egyptian. 'Perhaps later..
Fathy set the tray down on a small table next to the chair and stood beside the door, nodding his compliance at the two women.
With Fathy in the room a small change had come over Jaffrey's widow; a man commanded respect and she should comply with that, her straightening back and folded hands seemed to say.
'You were telling us when you saw your husband?' Annie prompted the woman once more.
Sara Jaffrey drew her scarf a little closer to her face in a gesture that both officers recognised: there was something she wanted to keep from them.
'My son thought his daddy would come home soon,' she said at last, casting her eyes downwards.
Perhaps that was half a truth, Annie thought. More likely she'd been told not to contact the police. `So you didn't worry?'
Sara Jaffrey's eyes flashed and they caught a flicker of indignation. 'Of course, I worried!' she told them. 'What am I? A wife without feelings?'
'But your son told you not to worry, surely? Didn't he, Sara?'
Fathy said, adopting an utterly reasonable tone.
'Yes, he did,' Sara agreed.
'What was he doing out in Mallorca, Sara?' Fathy asked.
'Oh, he was on his gap year,' the woman told them, her voice more confident now that she thought they were on safer ground.
'My Rashid will be going to Caledonian University,' she added proudly.
'And he bumped into an old family friend while he was there, didn't he?' Annie said.
Sara Jaffrey gave a little frown as though she were unable to remember.
'Billy Brogan, Mr Jaffrey's good friend,' Annie prompted, smiling.
The woman's face cleared. `Ah, yes. Mr Brogan is big family friend,' she nodded. 'Well liked by many of our neighbours, here in Pollokshields.'
'Just a coincidence that he was taking a wee holiday while Rashid was there, then?'
Sara frowned again, looking from one to the other. But whatever she saw in the two officers' faces must have reassured her.
'Yes, of course. Rashid had no idea that he was there. We thought…' she put her hand to her mouth as though she had already said too much.
'Yes, Sara, where did you think Mr Brogan would have been instead?'
But the woman was looking away now, fingers fidgeting on her lap. r 'How about that cup of' tea?' Annie suggested. 'Then maybe you can tell us more about Billy, eh?'
Solly sat with his head in his hands, staring at the pattern on the carpet. For the life of him he could not begin to understand what the woman had meant.
'She said she was grateful to me,' he murmured.
'Well maybe she meant that you'd been a great teacher?' Rosie suggested.
Solly raised his head and looked mournfully at his wife. 'No. It was more than that.'
His sigh seemed to fill the room. 'Lorimer reckons I saw her the day after her husband was killed.' He raised his eyebrows in a mute appeal.
'So what does that tell you?'
'I don't know,' SoIly shook his head. 'She was so…' his eyes lost their focus as he paused to remember. 'Animated. Yes, that's the right word, I think. Quite unlike the student I recalled from our seminars,' he insisted.
'And you think she was happy for a reason?' Rosie asked slowly.
'If her husband had been stalking her and she knew that he was dead, maybe that would be cause enough,' she went on.
'But why thank me? I didn't stop any of the things in her life,'
Solly replied, though in truth he was speaking more to himself now than to Rosie.
'No, there's more to it than this,' Solly nodded.
'Well you've told the police all you can,' Rosie continued reasonably.
'And it confirms that Marianne was still in Glasgow after Scott was killed.'
'She must have been living in constant fear,' Solly went on.
'That's why there was no trace of her name on the university register. Somehow she managed to slip through that particular net, though God knows how she did it.'
'Well, it's in Lorimer's hands now,' Rosie said, her tone hinting that the subject ought to be closed. She looked over at her husband, noting that expression of concentration she knew only too well.
'Come on, Solly,' she wheedled. It's not your case. Strathclyde Police aren't hiring you for this one, remember?' But as the psychologist continued to stare into space, Rosie knew that her words were falling on deaf ears. Solomon Brightman had decided that he was involved in this woman's fate and in the death of her ex- husband.
And Rosie knew in her heart that this time it wasn't a matter of being brought in to dispassionately examine a case. This time it was personal.
'Doctor Brightman saw her in the bookshop,' Lorimer said. He was sitting opposite Superintendent Mitchison, the afternoon sun shut out behind the vertical blinds so that what light there was made faded shadows over the room. Being in this room was like being inside one of these old sepia photographs, Lorimer decided, the furnishings were all browns and tans, even those colours being leached out by the lack of daylight.
'A coincidence,' Mitchison said, nodding his head as though it had been Lorimer who had suggested as much and he was simply agreeing with him.
'It places her in a specific place and time,' Lorimer went on, trying not to show the irritation that he felt. 'We believe Scott may have been stalking his wife prior to his death,' he continued.
Mitchison smiled, his eyes narrowing. It's usually the one who is stalked that ends up dead,' he laughed mirthlessly. 'So how does this give you any more information about who killed Scott?'
'Marianne Scott's brother disappears suddenly,' Lorimer said.
'She goes to ground.' I le raised his hands. 'Isn't it possible that they were in it together?'
'You think Brogan killed his former brother-in-law to stop him following his sister around?' Mitchison's voice was full of derision.
'Come on, Lorimer. That's the most risible theory I've heard in a long time. Brogan's a known drug dealer who's been lucky enough not to have been caught. Two men dead in his flat, remember?' he sneered. 'Or have you
