“Oh yes, I did. Sorry, I wasn’t counting that, because it’s part of Germany now.”
“Geography never was your strong point, was it, Soph?” Another guffaw. “Though I think that’s actually just a women’s thing. No good at navigating, women – have to keep stopping to ask for directions.”
“Whereas men get lost,” said Jude, “because they never will stop to ask for directions.”
“Oh, touche,” came the response, but nothing was actually going to change Ewan Urquhart’s view of the opposite sex. “Now tell me, Jude, where is it you live?”
“On the High Street. Just drop me anywhere now, it’s no distance.”
“Nonsense. I will escort you to your front door. One hears of such terrible things happening to unaccompanied women these days.”
“Well, thank you, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
But the Lexus had already turned into the High Street. “So tell me, which house is it?”
“Just along there on the right. Beyond the lamppost.”
“Oh, I’ve sold a good few properties along here, let me tell you. Prices skyrocketing. If you’re ever thinking of selling, Jude…”
“Well, I had thought of having the place valued. You know, to sort of see where I stand.”
“We’d be happy to do it. All part of the service at Urquhart & Pease. Isn’t that right, Hamish?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“By the way, I’m intrigued to know…” Jude asked. “Who’s Pease?”
“My partner?”
“Yes, the other part of Urquhart & Pease.”
“Ah.” Ewan Urquhart chuckled, before producing another well-rehearsed line. “He doesn’t exist. When I set up the business, I reckoned two names sounded more authoritative than one. So that’s how Mr Pease got invented.”
“Thank you for explaining that. It’d been intriguing me. Anyway, I might take you up on your offer of a valuation.”
“Do, by all means.”
Then, as the big car slowed down, Jude asked Sophia, “Tell me, while you were in East Germany, did you go to Leipzig?”
The girl looked at her with some surprise. Then the line of her mouth hardened as she replied, “No. I’ve never been there.”
? Blood at the Bookies ?
Twenty
Both Carole and Jude had shopping to do on the Saturday morning, but they joined up for coffee in the kitchen of High Tor at about eleven. Jude had not suggested meeting at Woodside Cottage because Zofia Jankowska had come in very late the night before and the poor girl needed her sleep. She was exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster she had been riding since she heard of her brother’s death.
Carole was very pleased with herself about the information she had received from Gerald Hume and presented it to Jude with considerable aplomb. “So at last we have a name. Someone who, did actually know Tadek – or at least spoke to him in the betting shop.”
“Pauline implied that he knew the woman. Melanie Newton, eh?”
“And Gerald seemed to think she lived in Fedborough.”
“Sounds like a job for the local phone book.”
Flicking through the directory, they were beginning to wish their quarry had a less common name. There were forty Newtons listed. But when they narrowed the search down to Fedborough addresses, it looked easier.
Only four. None of them had the initial ‘M’, but, as Carole and Jude agreed, the listing might well be under the name of Melanie Newton’s husband or another relation.
“Well, let’s see if we get any joy. Are you going to call them or shall I?”
“You do it, Jude.” Carole was suddenly embarrassed by the idea of phoning up complete strangers. “You’re better at lying than I am.”
“Why do I need to lie?”
“You can’t just ring up someone out of the blue, can you?”
“A lot of people do. The number of calls I get about replacement windows and making wills and investing in land…”
“Yes, or trying to sell you a mobile phone,…”
“Perhaps I should do that. Make up some story. Pretend I’m from a call centre.” Jude made up her mind. “No, I think it’d be simpler – as usual – just to tell the truth.”
“‘Hello, I want to talk to you about someone you spoke to five months ago’?” suggested Carole with disbelief.
“Something along those lines, yes.” Jude phoned the first of the numbers. An answering machine message. She pressed the red button to end the call. “Bob and Marie Newton are not available at the moment. No Melanie.”
She keyed in the next number. “Oh, hello, could I speak to Melanie?”
She was informed, with some huffiness, that there was no one of that name living at the address.
“Two more to go,” she said as she tried the third. Again someone answered. A woman’s voice.
“Oh, hello, could I speak to Melanie Newton, please?”
“I’m sorry. She no longer lives here.”
“You don’t by any chance know where she lives now, do you?”
“I’m not sure. I got the impression the marriage was breaking up and I think she and her husband went their separate ways.”
“So don’t you have any means of contacting her?”
“I’ve got a mobile number for her husband, Giles. I’ve never used it, so I don’t know if it’s still current.”
“Could you give it to me?”
For the first time the voice at the other end of the line sounded suspicious. “Who am I talking to here?”
“My name’s Jude.” Which was true. “I’m an old friend of Melanie’s.” Which was a lie. Carole raised her eyes to heaven.
“All right.” And the voice gave the mobile number.
“Thank you so much. And can you tell me how long ago the Newtons moved?”
“We moved in here on the third of November.”
As soon as she had finished the call, Jude keyed in the mobile number she’d been given.
“Hello?” said a wary answering voice.
“Is that Giles Newton?”
“Yes.” He still sounded guarded.
“You don’t know me, but I’m trying to contact Melanie Newton and – ”
Giles Newton ended the call.
¦
When Jude returned to Woodside Cottage, Zofia Jankowska was up and dressed, making coffee in the kitchen. “Aren’t you going to have something to eat too?” asked Jude.
“No, I have too much food of yours already. You do not let me pay.”
“You don’t need to pay.”
“It makes me feel not good. I do not like to be…what is the word I heard? A ‘sponger’? I read in newspaper that many Poles in England are spongers.”
“Then you should read different newspapers. You’re not sponging off me. You’re here as my guest.”
“I should be paying something. I do not know how long I will be here. If I could get a few hours’ work, I could pay you.”
“Well, I’m sure you could get something if you really wanted to.” A thought came to Jude. “Tell you what…
