'She'll back me up when you find her.'
'Depending on how well you prime her,' said George sarcastically. She shook her head. 'You haven't done much of a job so far, Roy. She seems to drop you in it more often than she helps you out. I presume it wasn't your idea to steal Jonathan's wallet ... you didn't need to, you'd already seen him off. So why did she do it?'
'You're plucking at straws,' he said dismissively. 'There was no crime committed. Your friend got everything back intact.'
George made an abrupt decision. 'I think we'll go with your second option and take what we've got to Sergeant Lovatt,' she said, gathering her bits and pieces together and cramming them into her case. 'Neither Jon nor I believe that Cill Trevelyan's disappearance and Grace Jefferies's murder weren't connected, and if the sergeant suspects that Priscilla's Cill, then he'll certainly want to talk to her ... and to you.'
Roy opened the kitchen door and stood back. 'Feel free,' he told her, 'but you'll be making idiots of yourselves. You've got nothing at all if Priscilla can prove she wasn't Cill-which she can-and the cops won't resurrect Howard just so you can make money out of a book. They had him bang to rights at the time, and everyone knows it-' his lip curled-'except you two.'
Jonathan took the case and gestured to George to precede him. 'I'm sure they said the same about James Watson and Francis Crick,' he murmured, 'and look how right they proved to be. The discovery of the double helix was a conceptual step, but Watson and Crick were the only two who believed it at the beginning.'
The other man's jaw jutted aggressively. 'You should learn to speak English, mate. I don't know what you're talking about.'
Jonathan halted in front of him. 'Of course you don't, but that's not my problem-
Roy made a grab at his arm but Jonathan was ready for it. He wrapped his fist around Roy's in a surprisingly gentle gesture and pushed it away. 'I'm talking about the three-dimensional structure of the DNA molecule, Mr. Trent. If the police haven't destroyed all the evidence from Grace's murder, then it may be Watson and Crick's discovery that sends you to prison.'
George tut-tutted severely as she wedged herself behind the steering wheel. 'You're lucky he didn't hit you.'
Jonathan grinned. 'He was afraid you were going to scratch his eyes out.'
She smiled automatically, but her mood had turned to despondency. 'So what do we do now? He's right about the police, you know. It wouldn't be fair to waste Fred Lovatt's time with this. We haven't anything concrete-it's all just speculation. We don't even know who Priscilla Fletcher is, let alone if she was in Highdown in 1970. She might have grown up in Sydney for all we know.'
'She speaks with a Dorset accent.'
'That's not proof of anything.'
Jonathan was on top of the world, buoyed up by adrenaline, so her sudden depression took him by surprise. 'What's up?'
'We're no further forward than we were an hour ago.'
'Did you expect to be?'
'Yes,' she said wearily, leaning her elbows on the wheel, perversely worn out by the excitement. 'What was the point of doing it otherwise?'
To triumph over a phobia, thought Jonathan, wondering if that was his single, most powerful reason for doing anything. He felt better than he had for months and he couldn't understand why George was being so negative.
'I can't see how we move on,' she continued. 'I suppose we can corner Priscilla Fletcher but even if she agrees to speak to us, it won't get us anywhere. All she has to do is tell us her name was Mary Smith and we won't be able to prove any different. We haven't the authority to insist on a birth certificate.'
'What about her husband? He must know as much of her history as Roy does.'
George gave an impatient sigh. 'And how do we approach him? If we go knocking on the door, it'll certainly be Priscilla who answers, and she'll slam it in our faces. I don't know anything about him, except that he's some sort of bookie, and even that's a bit doubtful.' She nodded toward the .pub door. 'My source was Tracey and she had it secondhand off Jim Longhurst. I don't even know the man's Christian name.'
'Well, we can't do anything tonight,' said Jonathan firmly, consulting his watch, 'so let's just sleep on it. I need to be at the station by nine, otherwise I won't be home till after one-thirty. If you can drop me at Branksome, I'll take a taxi into town.'
George wouldn't hear of it. 'Don't be ridiculous,' she said, starting the engine and pulling away from the kerb. ''Andrew would be furious if you spent borrowed money on a cab. I'm sure he meant you to buy food with it.'
'Probably.'
'Then buy a sandwich on the train and start taking care of yourself.'
He wasn't listening. 'What about William Burton?' he suggested. 'I'd say he's worth another shot, particularly if we can persuade him to come to the police station with us and name the boys who raped Cill. Lovatt can hardly ignore that, not if we show him your two photos. He's bound to interview Priscilla Fletcher in those circumstances ... Roy, too, if he's one of the three that Burton accuses.'
George cheered up immediately. 'Do you think he'll do it?'
'I don't know,' said Jonathan, 'but it has got to be worth a try.' His mind worked through the possibilities. 'We also need to find the Trevelyans. If they didn't have anything to do with Cill's disappearance, then they'll be ahead of us in the queue, piling on the pressure. I need to listen to the tape because I'm guessing Roy told us a lot more than you think he did-it's just a question of isolating what's important.'
'Did you get it all?'
'I hope so.' He took a recorder from his pocket and pressed 'rewind,' letting it run for five seconds before touching 'play.' Roy's jeering tones broke into the silence inside the car.
