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.’‘So she went in at the same place Yasmin did.’‘It looks like it.’‘She could have been the one who leaned on them and broke them.It wouldn’t have taken much.They were pretty well rotten through.What do you think?’‘Either that or she threw herself in, got tangled up in the drainage mechanism.It’s a bit desperate though.’‘Desperate feelings lead you to do desperate things.Let me know when identity’s confirmed.’The final straw was Fiske, who hovered in the doorway, distinctly reticent, and Mariner was soon to find out why.‘The Skeet family have made a complaint,’ he said.‘About what?’‘About the way the disappearance of their son was handled, that it wasn’t given enough of a priority.How far do you think they’d take it?’‘What do you mean?’‘Is Colleen Skeet the vindictive type?’If it hadn’t required the effort of standing up, Mariner would have been tempted to walk over and punch his smarmy face.‘Colleen Skeet isn’t any “type”, sir.As I seem to remember it was thinking of her family as a “type” that got us into trouble.Right now, she’s a woman grieving for her son.I couldn’t begin to understand what’s going on in her head.’‘I thought you said you knew her.’‘I know Colleen, sir.I know very little about those who might have any influence over her, especially at a time like this.’‘Will you talk to her?’‘I’m not sure that that’s a very good idea.’‘I do hope that as a fellow officer I will be able to count on your support, Inspector.’Not a request, just a statement.That was a hard one.Mariner felt not a shred of fellowship for the man.Chapter SixteenFiske had given Mariner the nudge he needed though, and by mid-afternoon, having exhausted all the paperwork he could reasonably do at this time, and starting to feel halfway human again, he ran out of options.He hadn’t had the guts to face Colleen directly since Ricky’s death.Now was as good a time as any, and from there, he could go over to see his mother.Moving very carefully, Mariner picked up his jacket and keys and walked out to his car.He went to pass through an exit door at the same moment as someone else, being escorted from the building by Mark Russell.‘I’m sorry.’ To avoid a collision the other man stepped back, exactly mirroring Mariner’s action.‘After you.’ Mariner found himself looking into a vaguely familiar face, but there was no reciprocal recognition and he dismissed it.It happened all the time in this job, as a consequence of meeting so many people.Then, crossing the car park, it came to him.He went back to reception.‘That man who just left.What was he doing here with Russell?’ he asked Ella.‘I think he’s the guy who came in to identify his wife’s jewellery.The second body that was found.Poor bloke.’‘Can I use the phone?’ Mariner called up to Russell.‘The body found today, I thought her name was Kincaid.’‘Ms,’ said Russell.‘She kept her maiden name when she got married.’ He told Mariner her married name.Poor bloke indeed, thought Mariner.He found Colleen sitting smoking on her front step in the yellow late afternoon sunshine, a grotesque pastiche of contentment.‘You’ve got a bloody nerve,’ was all she said as he walked up the path.‘I’m sorry, Colleen: really sorry.’ Was there ever a way of instilling those words with adequate feeling? Mariner doubted it.‘I bet you are,’ she said.‘Sorry that you’re all in the shit.’She was wrong about that, but there was no point in arguing.‘Are you really going through with it?’‘Yes she fucking is,’ snarled a voice from behind her.It belonged to a giant of a man with thick muscles and apparently no neck.Steve, Mariner guessed.‘So why don’t you piss off out of here and stop harassing her?’Yeah, why didn’t he? ‘I’m sorry, Colleen,’ Mariner said again.‘Ricky was a great kid.’ And he turned and walked back to his car.‘Tom?’ she called after him, her voice smaller than before.He looked back.‘I know it wasn’t your fault.’Mariner nodded briefly and walked on.Back in the car, Mariner thought again about the connection he’d learned about from Russell.The reservoir, Yasmin Akram, Barbara Kincaid and, through her husband, the link between them all: Shaun Pryce, with his predilection for middle-aged housewives.Mariner wondered if there was any way Barbara Kincaid could have known Shaun Pryce too.He must know her husband.He’d have to drive along Banbury Road on his way out to Leamington to visit his mother.That was fortuitous.There was a considerably delayed response when he rang the doorbell of the three-floor terrace, but eventually the door opened on Brian Goodway.His shoulders were hunched, and even on this warm afternoon he wore a thick cardigan over his open-collared shirt, his body temperature thrown off balance by delayed shock.He was apologetic.‘I was upstairs.The kids are at home but they never answer the door, even though it’s usually for them.Teenagers, eh?’ He shook his head despairingly but his heart wasn’t in it, he hadn’t got the energy.Mariner felt another flush of sympathy for the man.‘Mr Goodway, I know this is a difficult time for you, but I understand you identified your wife’s jewellery this afternoon.’‘That’s right.’‘As you know, I’m investigating Yasmin Akram’s death.This may be important.I wonder if you could spare a few minutes.’‘Um, yes, of course.’ He seemed disorientated and vague and Mariner almost changed his mind.But he was here now and followed Goodway past bikes propped in the hallway into an untidy lounge with a high ceiling and a wide bay with sash windows.Like the Akrams’ sitting room, it felt cool and unlived in, probably because most of the space was taken up by a polished walnut baby grand piano.‘Barbara’s,’ Brian Goodway said, although Mariner hadn’t asked.‘She used to teach piano part-time.The number of pupils had dwindled over the years but she liked to do it.It was something for herself.’ Already used to speaking about his wife in the past tense, but then she’d been missing from his life for months.‘Is that why she kept her maiden name?’‘It was like a stage name.Barbara was a performer: music, amateur theatre, that kind of thing.’For the first time, Mariner saw the black and white portrait photograph.The subject was stunningly glamorous.‘Is that her?’‘Yes, taken a few years ago now.’ Not the woman Mariner would have identified as the natural partner for Goodway.‘The teaching was supplementary,’ he was saying.‘At the time we married she had quite a reputation locally, so understandably didn’t want to lose that.Inevitably though, once the children came along, the family became more of a priority and she had to put her other ambitions on hold.’‘That can’t have been easy.’‘No.I know she found it frustrating at times.She was very artistic.But she continued to provide accompaniment for a local drama group from time to time.Please sit down, Inspector.Can I get you anything? A cup of tea?’‘That would be good, thank you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.’‘So she went in at the same place Yasmin did.’‘It looks like it.’‘She could have been the one who leaned on them and broke them.It wouldn’t have taken much.They were pretty well rotten through.What do you think?’‘Either that or she threw herself in, got tangled up in the drainage mechanism.It’s a bit desperate though.’‘Desperate feelings lead you to do desperate things.Let me know when identity’s confirmed.’The final straw was Fiske, who hovered in the doorway, distinctly reticent, and Mariner was soon to find out why.‘The Skeet family have made a complaint,’ he said.‘About what?’‘About the way the disappearance of their son was handled, that it wasn’t given enough of a priority.How far do you think they’d take it?’‘What do you mean?’‘Is Colleen Skeet the vindictive type?’If it hadn’t required the effort of standing up, Mariner would have been tempted to walk over and punch his smarmy face.‘Colleen Skeet isn’t any “type”, sir.As I seem to remember it was thinking of her family as a “type” that got us into trouble.Right now, she’s a woman grieving for her son.I couldn’t begin to understand what’s going on in her head.’‘I thought you said you knew her.’‘I know Colleen, sir.I know very little about those who might have any influence over her, especially at a time like this.’‘Will you talk to her?’‘I’m not sure that that’s a very good idea.’‘I do hope that as a fellow officer I will be able to count on your support, Inspector.’Not a request, just a statement.That was a hard one.Mariner felt not a shred of fellowship for the man.Chapter SixteenFiske had given Mariner the nudge he needed though, and by mid-afternoon, having exhausted all the paperwork he could reasonably do at this time, and starting to feel halfway human again, he ran out of options.He hadn’t had the guts to face Colleen directly since Ricky’s death.Now was as good a time as any, and from there, he could go over to see his mother.Moving very carefully, Mariner picked up his jacket and keys and walked out to his car.He went to pass through an exit door at the same moment as someone else, being escorted from the building by Mark Russell.‘I’m sorry.’ To avoid a collision the other man stepped back, exactly mirroring Mariner’s action.‘After you.’ Mariner found himself looking into a vaguely familiar face, but there was no reciprocal recognition and he dismissed it.It happened all the time in this job, as a consequence of meeting so many people.Then, crossing the car park, it came to him.He went back to reception.‘That man who just left.What was he doing here with Russell?’ he asked Ella.‘I think he’s the guy who came in to identify his wife’s jewellery.The second body that was found.Poor bloke.’‘Can I use the phone?’ Mariner called up to Russell.‘The body found today, I thought her name was Kincaid.’‘Ms,’ said Russell.‘She kept her maiden name when she got married.’ He told Mariner her married name.Poor bloke indeed, thought Mariner.He found Colleen sitting smoking on her front step in the yellow late afternoon sunshine, a grotesque pastiche of contentment.‘You’ve got a bloody nerve,’ was all she said as he walked up the path.‘I’m sorry, Colleen: really sorry.’ Was there ever a way of instilling those words with adequate feeling? Mariner doubted it.‘I bet you are,’ she said.‘Sorry that you’re all in the shit.’She was wrong about that, but there was no point in arguing.‘Are you really going through with it?’‘Yes she fucking is,’ snarled a voice from behind her.It belonged to a giant of a man with thick muscles and apparently no neck.Steve, Mariner guessed.‘So why don’t you piss off out of here and stop harassing her?’Yeah, why didn’t he? ‘I’m sorry, Colleen,’ Mariner said again.‘Ricky was a great kid.’ And he turned and walked back to his car.‘Tom?’ she called after him, her voice smaller than before.He looked back.‘I know it wasn’t your fault.’Mariner nodded briefly and walked on.Back in the car, Mariner thought again about the connection he’d learned about from Russell.The reservoir, Yasmin Akram, Barbara Kincaid and, through her husband, the link between them all: Shaun Pryce, with his predilection for middle-aged housewives.Mariner wondered if there was any way Barbara Kincaid could have known Shaun Pryce too.He must know her husband.He’d have to drive along Banbury Road on his way out to Leamington to visit his mother.That was fortuitous.There was a considerably delayed response when he rang the doorbell of the three-floor terrace, but eventually the door opened on Brian Goodway.His shoulders were hunched, and even on this warm afternoon he wore a thick cardigan over his open-collared shirt, his body temperature thrown off balance by delayed shock.He was apologetic.‘I was upstairs.The kids are at home but they never answer the door, even though it’s usually for them.Teenagers, eh?’ He shook his head despairingly but his heart wasn’t in it, he hadn’t got the energy.Mariner felt another flush of sympathy for the man.‘Mr Goodway, I know this is a difficult time for you, but I understand you identified your wife’s jewellery this afternoon.’‘That’s right.’‘As you know, I’m investigating Yasmin Akram’s death.This may be important.I wonder if you could spare a few minutes.’‘Um, yes, of course.’ He seemed disorientated and vague and Mariner almost changed his mind.But he was here now and followed Goodway past bikes propped in the hallway into an untidy lounge with a high ceiling and a wide bay with sash windows.Like the Akrams’ sitting room, it felt cool and unlived in, probably because most of the space was taken up by a polished walnut baby grand piano.‘Barbara’s,’ Brian Goodway said, although Mariner hadn’t asked.‘She used to teach piano part-time.The number of pupils had dwindled over the years but she liked to do it.It was something for herself.’ Already used to speaking about his wife in the past tense, but then she’d been missing from his life for months.‘Is that why she kept her maiden name?’‘It was like a stage name.Barbara was a performer: music, amateur theatre, that kind of thing.’For the first time, Mariner saw the black and white portrait photograph.The subject was stunningly glamorous.‘Is that her?’‘Yes, taken a few years ago now.’ Not the woman Mariner would have identified as the natural partner for Goodway.‘The teaching was supplementary,’ he was saying.‘At the time we married she had quite a reputation locally, so understandably didn’t want to lose that.Inevitably though, once the children came along, the family became more of a priority and she had to put her other ambitions on hold.’‘That can’t have been easy.’‘No.I know she found it frustrating at times.She was very artistic.But she continued to provide accompaniment for a local drama group from time to time.Please sit down, Inspector.Can I get you anything? A cup of tea?’‘That would be good, thank you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]