“I would,” he answered, popping his head around the door, “but I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard anything of Erin since last Friday morning. And you know quite well what happened on Thursday night.”
Tracy felt herself blush with shame at the memory. “I’m sorry. It was all my fault.”
“Like I said, it had been building up for a while. That was just the last straw. It doesn’t matter. I should never have left her here alone. Now look what she’s gone and done. The stupid bitch. She took something of mine. Something…really important. Now I have to go and lie low for a while until I know what’s what. I just need to put a few things in a bag first. Will you wait here? Please?”
“Of course. If there’s anything I can do…”
Tracy walked back out to the balcony, leaned on the railing, sipped her gin and tonic and stared down into the oily canal. Laughter rose from a group of people under one of the umbrellas. The drink tasted good, better than she remembered. Why had Jaff asked her to wait? Did he want her to go with him, wherever he was going? To London? An adventure. The idea both excited and scared her. She couldn’t just take off with him, surely? But why not? What had she got to hang around Leeds for? What prospects? What future? Her lousy job in the bookshop? An absentee mother and a father who seemed incapable of growing up? Besides, she was beginning to feel at least partly responsible for whatever it was that had happened between Erin and Jaff, even though she had no idea what was upsetting him at the moment, what she had taken.
It didn’t take Jaff long to pack a hold-all. In less than five minutes he was back in the living room again. Tracy joined him. They checked that everything was switched off, that his cigarette was properly extinguished, and that the French doors leading to the balcony were securely locked.
“Where are you thinking of going?” Tracy asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said. “But I have to get away from here till things cool down. It’s not safe. If I were you, I’d just go home. It’s really nothing to do with you.”
“Look,” Tracy said hesitantly. “I wish I knew a bit more about what was going on, but I know somewhere we can go. I mean, if you want to.”
“You do? Where?”
“My dad’s place. I’ve got a key. He’s away on holiday till next Monday. That’s a whole week. We can at least stay for a few days until you figure out your next move. We’ll be safe there. Nobody will think to look for us.”
Jaff considered this for a moment, then said, “All right. If you’re sure. But I have to stop at Vic’s on the way to pick up a few things I need from him. We’ll borrow his car, too. He won’t mind. He can keep mine in his garage. That way nobody will be after us. Vic’s number won’t mean anything to the police. This sounds great. Where does your dad live?”
“Gratly.”
“Huh?”
“It’s in the Dales, a little cottage, very isolated.”
“Perfect,” Jaff said, then he patted her between the shoulder blades. “What are we waiting for, babe? Let’s go.”
THE SHADOWS were lengthening when Annie approached Laburnum Way. She knew that she shouldn’t be visiting Juliet Doyle on her own like this, that she was risking Chambers’s wrath, not to mention Gervaise’s and McLaughlin’s, but she had a few more questions for Juliet before Chambers cut off access entirely.
She should have gone home hours ago, or called at Banks’s cottage to water the plants and take in the post, but she had sat instead in the Half Moon on Market Street not far from Laburnum Way sipping a pint of Daleside bitter and picking at a vegetarian pasta after mustering up the willpower to order it instead of fish and chips. Anyway, she consoled herself, pub fish and chips were never anywhere near as good as those from the chippie. When she had finished, she decided that, being so close to Laburnum Way, she would drop in and see how things were. Erin was staying at a guest house near the castle. She hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near her mother. Banks’s potted plants could wait another day or two, and if he got any parcels they’d only be CDs or DVDs from Amazon, and they would wait safely in the wheely-bin storage area, where the postman usually left them.
There was still a strong police presence on Laburnum Way: patrol cars, unmarked vehicles, SOCO vans, uniformed officers on guard, mostly keeping the media at bay. A couple of local reporters, one from the paper and one from TV, recognized Annie and asked for comments, but she said nothing.
Harriet Weaver answered the door just moments after Annie had rung the bell. “Annie, isn’t it?” she said. “Alan’s friend. Please come in.” She closed the door for a moment and Annie heard the chain slide off. “You can’t be too careful with all those reporters creeping around the place,” Harriet said. “We’ve already had to take the phone off the hook.”
Annie followed her into the house and waited while Harriet put the chain back on and locked the dead bolt. They had met before a few times through Banks, but they didn’t know each other well. Harriet, Annie knew, was somewhere in her fifties and had recently retired from driving a mobile library in the Dale. Her husband, David, had something to do with computers, she remembered, and Banks thought him a crashing bore. Annie had never met him. They were also Sophia’s aunt and uncle, and Banks had met Sophia through them, at a dinner party at their house. He had told Annie that he and Sandra and the kids used to live next door, and Harriet had been one of the first to welcome them to the neighborhood over twenty years ago. Sophia had been visiting her aunt for years, probably since back when she was a student, or even still a schoolgirl. Annie found herself wondering if Banks had fancied her that long ago, too. He would only have been in his thirties. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. When she’d been seventeen she had gone out briefly with a man in his early thirties, until her father had found out. Anyway, there was no time for such speculation, she told herself, nor any point in it. She wondered how Harriet and her husband felt about the whole Banks-and-Sophia affair. Uncomfortable, probably. No need to bring it up.
“Let’s go inside,” Harriet said, leading Annie into a cozy living room with an upholstered three-piece suite and a large-screen TV. “I was just doing the dishes,” she went on. “David’s out on a rush job and Juliet’s upstairs lying down. As you can imagine, she’s exhausted, poor thing. It’s been a terrible day. A wretched ordeal.”
“So you know what’s happened?” Annie said.
“More or less. Most of it, anyway. Juliet hasn’t said much. I think she must still be in shock. But what can I do for you?”
“First of all, I’m not supposed to be here,” Annie said. “The Independent Police Complaints Commission will be working with our Professional Standards Department on setting up a separate inquiry into Patrick Doyle’s death.”
“That makes sense. I’ve heard about that sort of thing. Anyway, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Oh, it’s all right. Plenty of my colleagues probably saw me come here, though I doubt they’d think anything of it. I just wanted you to know that I’m here unofficially. Really, I just wanted to see how things are, how Juliet’s doing. And you, of course. I feel partly responsible, you see. I was the first one to see Juliet this morning, and I was out in the street, in front of the house, when it happened.”
“That hardly makes it your fault, dear,” said Harriet. “I’m sure you did your best for her. Anyway, as I told you, she’s exhausted. It’s been a long confusing day for them. With Patrick gone and Erin not talking to her, poor Juliet doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going. The doctor’s given her a mild sedative.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s going to take them a long time to come to terms with this. Juliet blames Erin for Patrick’s death, and I’m sure Erin must blame herself, too, to some extent, but she must also feel betrayed by Juliet. I mean, her own mother informing on her…”
“Quite a conundrum,” said Annie. “It’s good of you to put Juliet up.”
“Where else could she go tonight? She’s got a sister in Durham, so perhaps she’ll go and stay with her later. But for now…Do you have any idea how long all this will take? How long they’ll be shut out of their home?”
“I’m sorry,” said Annie, “I don’t.”
“Days? Weeks? Months?”
“I’ve known houses to be locked down for weeks,” Annie said, “but I doubt that will happen in this case. It looks fairly straightforward. Legally, I mean, as far as an investigation is concerned. I understand that it has far more of an impact emotionally.”
“But you’d say a few days, at least?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, look at me. I’m so sorry. I’ve been sitting here picking your brains, and I haven’t even offered you anything to drink. Cup of tea? Coffee? Something stronger?”
