Sally Monks sounded reluctant, and Jude was forced to ask herself how important her quest actually was. Yes, she wanted to help Ted Crisp, but not to presume too far on the social worker’s goodwill.

Anyway, Ted himself had tried to cover up Ray’s involvement in what had happened in the Crown and Anchor. He might not welcome her investigating.

As it happened, what Sally Monks said next simplified things. “If you really do want to contact Ray, I know he’ll be at the flat tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Saturday. Football. He loves his football. His mother doesn’t have Sky, but they have it in the communal sitting room at the flats.”

“Oh, thank you for telling me. Maybe I’ll try and contact him tomorrow.”

“That’d be better.” The social worker sounded relieved. “I don’t want to put any more pressure on his mother.”

“More pressure? What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just that Ray only goes to see her when he’s upset. She has quite a problem calming him down sometimes.”

“You’ve no idea why he might be upset at the moment, do you?” asked Jude, keen to advance her investigation.

“Jude,” said Sally patiently, “I haven’t seen Ray for months. I’ve no idea what’s upset him this time. It’s could be anything. He gets hurt very easily, always worries that people are against him. He’s one of those people who seems to have been born with too few layers of skin.”

As she thanked Sally and rang off, Jude realized that any approach she made to Ray would require all of her considerable tact and gentleness.

¦

Because it was so hot that Friday, Carole delayed taking Gulliver for his afternoon walk until the evening. She felt sorry for him. A Labrador’s coat wasn’t designed for this kind of weather. He was still full of enthusiasm to tackle the invisible monsters of the beach, but he tired quickly and his long tongue lolled from panting mouth.

He looked so hot and pitiful in the fading light that she thought she would find him a drink before they got back to High Tor. There was always a dog bowl of water outside the Crown and Anchor, so she walked back from the beach that way. The route would also give her a chance to see whether Ted’s trade had picked up at all since his enforced closure.

The noise as she approached the pub answered her question. A lot of customers – and not just the smokers – were drinking outside, and all the windows and doors were open. The crowd seemed much bigger than it would have been for an ordinary Friday night; the atmosphere was positively rowdy. Her destination, the dogs’ water bowl, was just outside the main doors, but the density of the crowd deterred her. Also the nature of the crowd. Despite the evening heat, there were a lot of black leather jackets with gratuitous chains attached. Carole decided Gulliver could wait for his drink till they got back to High Tor.

As she walked through the car park back to the High Street, she noticed a surprising number of motorbikes. She also saw someone who looked vaguely familiar leaving the pub and approaching a sleek pale blue metallic BMW.

He was a tall man, probably in his early forties. The immaculate cut of his suit could not completely hide the fact that he was spreading to fat. Though his face was chubby, its features were small, thin lips, slightly beaky nose. He wore glasses with thick black rims. His hair, longish and swept back, was too black to be natural.

Carole felt sure she had seen him somewhere before, but the context wouldn’t come. She racked her brains as she walked back home, but her memory didn’t oblige. Finally, with a mental shrug, she gave up trying to place the man. He probably just looked like someone she had once met.

After eleven, as Carole Seddon prepared for bed, she heard the screeching, whining and revving up of motorbikes departing. Rather than following the coast road, where there was little residential property, they had chosen to drive up Fethering High Street. Through the open windows of the bedroom of High Tor, the noise was very loud.

If that kind of thing continued, Carole Seddon reckoned that Greville Tilbrook might find his petition filling up rather quickly.

? The Poisoning in the Pub ?

Eight

Jude’s relationship with Carole was easy, but it required effort on Jude’s part to keep it that way. She had to avoid many areas of spikiness in Carole’s personality. Most of these were predictable, but there was always the danger of inadvertently touching on some new, unpredictable one. So Jude anticipated a potential problem in their approach to Ted Crisp’s occasional helper, Ray.

Basically, she knew it was the kind of interview that would work better if she did it on her own. From all accounts, Ray was a highly strung individual, and Jude’s work as a therapist had given her plentiful experience of dealing with such people. But she knew how sensitive Carole could be about the idea of being excluded from any part of an investigation.

On this occasion, however, her neighbour seemed to recognize her own limitations. After Jude’s call to Sally Monks, they had agreed that an attempt should be made to see Ray the next day. But when Jude called at High Tor on the Saturday morning, Carole seemed preoccupied. She said she needed to do a big shop, and would Jude mind visiting Ray on her own?

Jude recognized the excuse for what it was. Carole was very organized about her shopping, paying a monthly visit to Salisbury’s for non-perishable essentials. And always mid-week. She would never willingly expose herself to the bigger crowds of weekend shoppers.

But the talk of a ‘big shop’ was her graceful way of backing off. Carole too knew in her heart of hearts that Jude would be better with someone like Ray than she would. She just couldn’t bring herself to say that in so many words.

Jude was grateful for her friend’s uncharacteristic moment of self-knowledge, and immediately set off for the address that Sally Monks had given her.

Everything in Fethering was within walking distance, but because the village sprawled almost enough to be called a town, some destinations involved a longer walk than others. So it was with Copsedown Hall, the sheltered accommodation where Ray lived, set on the northern fringe furthest from the sea in the less salubrious part of Fethering known as Downside.

The cars that lined the roads were older and shabbier than those in the smarter parts of the village. Front gardens were ill-maintained, many of them serving as repositories for defunct kitchen equipment. Shreds of plastic bags lay in the gutters. They would have fluttered about had there been any wind, but the hot air lay heavy on the July day.

Copsedown Hall, however, looked smarter than the old council housing that surrounded it. The small block of flats had probably been built in the thirties, but recently modernized. Paint still gleamed on door and window frames. Except for a disabled ramp overriding the front steps, there was nothing to suggest anything unusual about the residents.

The double glass doors were locked when Jude pushed against them. On the wall was an intercom. She was beginning to wish she had got more information about the place from Sally Monks. Presumably there would be some kind of warden monitoring the activities of the house. It might have helped if she had a name to ask for. Still, too late. She’d have to trust to her instincts and natural charm.

She pressed the intercom button. After a longish pause, a crackly young female voice answered, “Yes?”

“It’s Jude.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

But the voice at the other end didn’t seem to require more. “I’ll come and let you in,” it said. “The buzzer button’s broken.”

Again there was a pause. Then, through the glass, Jude saw someone coming down the stairs. A short chubby girl with a slight limp moved slowly towards her. Dealing with the latch seemed to require a lot of concentration, but when the door was flung open the girl beamed with satisfaction at her achievement.

Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату