Carole had been surprised when Stephen and Gaby accepted her invitation to join her and Jude for supper at the Crown and Anchor on the Saturday night. She had thought they might want to spend the little precious time they had that weekend alone together. But no, Marie was safe in the Dauncey Hotel, having dinner with her worshipped brother Robert, so Gaby felt safe to leave her. And the engaged couple seemed very happy to join Carole.
Carole deliberately arrived at the Crown and Anchor early, so that she would have time to bring Jude up to date on what she had heard from Robert Coleman. Gita was in London that evening, seeing a friend, a lawyer she had met while researching a crime story. She was also determined to go to her flat for the first time since her suicide attempt. If she felt up to it, she’d spend the night there. If not, she would stay with her friend. All of which Jude thought were very encouraging developments.
Although she’d told Jude, Carole had decided to keep quiet to Stephen and Gaby about her recent conversation with Robert Coleman. Though what he had said was of momentous importance to the investigation of Howard Martin’s death, Carole didn’t want to frighten Gaby with the image of an avenging murderer on the loose. If the girl initiated the subject of Michael Brewer, then fine. Carole would find out how much Gaby knew and contribute to the conversation accordingly, but she wasn’t going to be the first to mention the name.
Both Stephen and Gaby looked tired, he from his work crises, she from the stresses of looking after her mother, but there was still a touching lack of tension between them as a couple. As she looked at them, Carole felt an unfamiliar welling of something she supposed must be maternal warmth. She was determined to do everything she could to remove the cloud that hung lowering over her future daughter-in-law.
The first thing Gaby said, once they were supplied with drinks, did not concern Michael Brewer, but was still something of a bombshell, “Phil’s coming down this weekend.”
“Coming down where?”
“To Fethering.”
In her bewilderment, Carole couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Why on earth would he want to do that?”
“He said he thought he should check that Mum’s all right.” Gaby sounded sceptical.
“I gather Robert told you that the police only had him in for an afternoon.”
“Yes. I heard that.”
“So when’s your brother arriving?”
Gaby looked at her watch. “Any time. He’s comingdown from Hoddesdon on the bike. He’s going to meet us here. I thought that’d be better, so we can have a word before he sees Mum and Robert.”
That’s good, thought Carole. Though Phil was very much part of the mystery jigsaw, contacting him in Hoddesdon was almost out of the question. But now he, like Robert Coleman before him, was going to appear conveniently on her doorstep.
There was a break in the conversation as their food order arrived, brought over – they were honoured – by Ted Crisp himself. Before returning behind his bar, the landlord made a bad joke of the ‘Waiter, waiter’ variety (‘Waiter, waiter, do you have frog’s legs?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Then jump over the counter and get me a sandwich.’).
Then the engaged couple started to talk about their wedding plans, and the sparkle came back into Gaby’s eye. For a brief moment, just by keeping off the subject, they could forget the recent tragedy and find a kind of limited normality in a world where people got married and looked forward to sharing happy futures.
The arrival of Phil put an end to this interval of calm. Even without recent events, the appearance of Phil Martin in the Crown and Anchor at Fethering would have been unsettling. The black leathers and black helmet he wore accentuated his height, and he loomed over the bar-room like some legendary avenging warrior. When he removed the helmet to reveal his scowling face, the image became less mythological, but no less deterrent.
He quickly identified who he was looking for, and moved across towards the alcove in which they were finishing their meal. Only then did Carole and Jude notice that he had not entered the bar alone.
Behind Phil, literally in his shadow and looking half his size, followed a man of about the same age. He too carried a crash helmet, and the denim jacket buttoned tightly over a sweatshirt suggested that he had just been riding pillion on Phil’s motorbike. Even in June, he’d have needed to wrap up against the wind on the motorway.
Carole had a pretty good idea of who the newcomer might be, and her guess was instantly confirmed when Gaby said, without enthusiasm, “Bazza. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Come down with me, didn’t he?” said her brother ungraciously.
“But I thought the police were looking for him.” Phil shook his head. “Don’t know anything about that, Pascale.”
“It’s Gaby.”
Her knee-jerk reaction showed that his use of her given name was part of an ongoing conflict between the siblings. Whenever Phil wanted to rile his sister he used her original name.
“Hello, Phil. Nice to see you again.” Carole felt that social decorum should be observed. “Now, you haven’t met my friend Jude, have you?”
Phil agreed that he hadn’t, but didn’t seem that interested in remedying the deficiency. “Where’s the place Mum’s staying then?”
“Just the other side of the estuary. Ten minutes in the car.”
“Right. And Robert’s with her there and all?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Are we off then?”
“Phil, we haven’t finished eating.”
Stephen recognized his cue to ask Phil and Bazza if they’d like a drink while they waited. Both opted for pints of Stella. At the bar, Ted Crisp gave Stephen a rather old-fashioned look. “Those bikers friends of yours, are they?”
“Yes. The tall one’s my fiancee’s brother.”
Ted Crisp didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His face expressed his disapproval of the connection. He didn’t want the Crown and Anchor to get the reputation of being a haven for bikers.
Phil and Bazza said very little while they downed their lagers. Both looked ill at ease, keen to be on the move. Bazza looked up in panic each time someone new came into the bar, fearful presumably that the police had tracked him down.
But when the party for the Dauncey Hotel was ready to leave, Phil made it clear that his friend wasn’t coming with him. “No, you stay here. I’ll sort it out with Robert. There won’t be a problem. I’ll give you a bell on the mobile when it’s sorted.”
“Leave it out, Phil,” Bazza complained. “I should come with you, otherwise I’m stuck here without any wheels.”
“I’ll call you,” said Phil, with a menacing firmness that stopped further argument.
The threesome left sitting at the Crown and Anchor was an unusual one. Though so different in personalities and attitudes, Carole and Jude weren’t an incongruous couple. But the addition of a small-time car thief from Harlow did make for an unusual mix.
Carole was sorely tempted to go home, but she could recognize the sense of Jude’s offering to buy another round of drinks. Circumstances had brought them together with someone the police wanted to interview in connection with Howard Martin’s death. Sleuthing opportunities rarely came better giftwrapped.
Bazza consented to another Stella, so Jude bought that and a couple of Chilean Chardonnays from a surly Ted Crisp. Even though the one who actually wore leathers had gone, he remained suspicious of the other ‘biker’.
While the drinks were being organized, Carole racked her brains for something she could say to Bazza, but not an idea came. She had to fall back on a polite smile, which was rather wasted because the boy refused to look up at her.
Needless to say, as Jude sat down, she pitched in with a perfect conversation-opener. It was characteristically direct.
“Dreadful for Phil and Gaby, isn’t it, their dad having died in that ghastly way?”
Bazza conceded that it was “a bit of a choker.”
“You weren’t at the engagement party, were you?”
“No. I’m more Phil’s mucker than Pascale’s. You know, I’ve met her the odd time, but we’re not, like
