'Where are you staying?' he asked.
'At Rob's, why?'
'Go home. Go home to your mum's.'
'No.'
'Do it, Kate.'
'But if he wants to get in touch with me…'
'He'd be stupid coming there. He can ring you on your mobile, surely?'
'I suppose.'
'Is there anything you need to collect?'
'No, not really.'
'Then go now, I'll walk along with you.'
'And then what?' Her face thin and pleading. 'Is there anything you can do?'
'I don't know. I can try. What I can't do is promise. Okay? You understand?'
She nodded, sniffing, hands in pockets, so forlorn she was a child again, agonising over a broken toy, a favourite doll lost, her friends had refused to play with her at break time, or she had lost a glove, grazed her knee. He'd never come to terms with loving her as much as he did: never would.
'Come on,' he said. 'Let's go if we're going.'
38
The sun persisted behind a thin skim of cloud, but close to the Trent the air bit sharp into unprotected skin. Maureen wore scarf and gloves, her anorak zipped and buttoned. She had met Elder on the south side of the bridge, near County Hall, and they had set out along the river towards Wilford, the City Ground at their backs.
A few runners and the occasional dog-walker aside, they had the path pretty much to themselves.
'You believe her?' Maureen said.
'I believe her, yes.'
'Not Summers?'
'Without speaking to him face to face, it's difficult to know. He was obviously lying to me before.'
'Come on, Frank. His girlfriend's father and an ex-copper, what do you expect?'
'It doesn't help me to accept his side of the story at face value, that's all.'
'Katherine, though. She saw what she saw.'
'Yes, I suppose so.'
They continued walking. Nearing the pedestrian bridge that led across to the Memorial Gardens, a pair of swans and sundry assorted ducks swam towards them, hoping for bread.
'Bland and Eaglin, taking down the safe house and pocketing the proceeds, you think it's possible?'
'Anything's possible, Frank, you know that.'
'But likely?'
'Drug Squad, you know, a few of them, old school, pretty much a law to themselves. And these two, they're both known to sail pretty close to the wind. But this… I don't know, Frank, I'd need proof.'
'Yes.'
'Not easy.'
'If something like that went down, word would get around.'
'I know. It's a matter of who to talk to, who to trust.'
'Nothing different there then.'
Maureen smiled. 'Nothing at all.'
At Wilford Bridge they crossed on to the embankment and followed the curve of the river back around.
'What time's your train, Frank?' Maureen asked.
'Quarter past.'
'I'll nose around, see what I come up with. Let you know.'
'You'll be careful.'
She gave him a look.
'Thanks, Maureen.'
They shook hands.
'How's it going down there in the smoke?'
'Three steps up, two back.'
'Better that than the other way round.'
At the station he bought a paper and sat on an empty bench to make some calls. Katherine's phone was switched off and he left a message, 'Great to see you, don't worry. Love, Dad.'
Elder phoned Karen on his mobile as the train was nearing St Pancras: still no sign of Kennet, but they'd got a line on Jane Forest and she was hoping to talk to her later that afternoon.
The scar that ran down one side of Jane Forest's face, beginning just below her right ear and continuing down past her jaw, was only visible when she turned into the light. When her hair swung back from her face. Self- conscious, most days she wore a roll-neck jumper or a scarf inside the collar of her shirt or blouse.
'Why didn't you report it?' Karen asked.
'I was frightened.'
'Of him?'
'Yes, of course. But not just that.'
'What then?'
'What people would say.'
'People?'
'When it got out. Whoever I had to explain it to. The police. You. My parents. Everyone.'
'You were the victim. There's no blame attached to that.'
'Isn't there?' Jane Forest twisted the cap off the bottle of Evian and lifted it to her mouth. They were standing in a small yard at the rear of the florist's where she worked, one of a small parade of shops at the bottom of West Hill, adjacent to Parliament Hill Fields. Jane was wearing a green overall that tied at the back, the name of the shop embroidered in small yellow letters at the front.
'You know the North End of the Heath,' she said, 'up past the Vale of Health?'
Karen shook her head.
'We used to go up there, one or two in the morning. Park round the back of Jack Straw's Castle. Not that we were the only ones. That time of night it's mostly gays, lots of black leather, chains, that kind of thing. Real bondage stuff. Anyway, we'd go out into the middle of the Heath; up there it's mostly bracken, trees, really overgrown, but there are these paths running through. Quite high up, you know. And I'd walk along as if I were on my own, pretending I didn't know Steve was there. And I didn't. I mean I never knew exactly where he was.'
She took another swig at the bottle and wiped one edge of her mouth with the back of her hand.
'Sometimes he'd keep me waiting, just wandering up and down, for ages. Twenty minutes, more. These blokes every now and then staring out at me from behind bushes, wondering what on earth I was doing.'
'You weren't scared?' Karen said.
'Of course I was scared. That was the point.'
'Go on,' Karen said.
'Well, sooner or later Steve would jump out at me and I'd – I don't know – pretend to fight him off, try to run away.'
'And he'd catch you?'
'Oh, yes.' There was a certain light in Jane Forest's eyes, blue-green eyes.
'And then? '
