Katerina Diamond – The Teacher: A shocking and compelling new crime thriller – NOT for the faint-hearted! (страница 12)
‘OK, let me ask you a question.’ She sat forward.
‘OK, shoot.’ Adrian sighed, what had he done?
‘What car do you drive?’
‘You know what car I drive, I drive a Granada.’
‘A Granada? Right, Jesus, Miley, they stopped making them like fifteen years ago.’
‘She has sentimental value!’
‘Whatever, I bet you know what a Mustang is, or a Ferrari, I bet you watch the lame car programmes on TV. I bet you think you know a lot about cars.’
‘That’s different.’
‘I know a lot about clothes, specifically high-end, expensive clothing. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dress.’
Adrian couldn’t help but look her up and down, instantly regretting this decision as he saw that smile on her face again. He was beginning to understand that she only smiled like that when she had won some imaginary battle in her mind. Every time he saw that smile he would be reminded that she wasn’t the scruffy slacker that she presented herself to be.
‘The way I dress is a choice, calculated, Miley. I know what I’m doing.’
‘You want everyone to think you’re a dyke?’
‘Maybe I am a dyke.’
‘Pfft, please … I know you’re not, I have seen you checking me out.’
‘In your dreams!’ She smiled and thumped him on the arm, a little flushed in the cheeks. ‘Mostly I don’t want people to think I am too competent. I don’t want people to put their faith in me. I want them to think I am a washout and I want to prove them wrong.’
‘It’s very complicated in your head, isn’t it, Grey?’
‘I like it when people think they are superior to me, people let their guard down more when they don’t feel threatened, they are easier to confuse.’
‘That explains your amazing display of passive aggression back there.’
‘Whatever gets the job done!’
‘Is that why you got transferred out of Plymouth?’ Adrian asked. It was a genuine question although the look her face assumed put paid to any notion Adrian may have had about them being comfortable with each other. She put her hands in the ten to two position and focused on the road ahead. The connection was lost. The conversation was over.
The barn was large and impressive. They walked up the gravelled driveway and knocked on the door, noting the incredible framing of pink sky around the house; it felt so completely secluded out there.
‘Mr Markham?’ Adrian called out.
Grey walked around the side of the house and disappeared from Adrian’s view. Adrian tried every key on the bunch Deborah Markham had given them until he found the one that corresponded with the lock. He could tell from the absolute silence that they were alone here.
‘Mr Markham? Ian Markham?’ he called out again, just in case. The house was bare, stripped of furniture, a few lopsided pictures hung on the walls and a rug or two lay here and there.
‘Looks like he’s had some kind of bonfire out back.’ Grey was standing in the doorway holding a document box. ‘Left in a hurry, too, by the looks of it.’
Adrian took the box from Grey, a handful of papers remained in the bottom. Some tickets from various bookmakers, some shredded paper they could get the lab to reassemble, a couple of invitations to local fundraising functions but nothing massively incriminating.
‘Bag it all and we’ll take it back to the station.’
‘Check this out.’ Grey pulled out a Visa bill, one of the recipients was listed as LHRBOOKINGS. ‘LHR is the abbreviation for Heathrow, as in long-distance destinations, as in anywhere in the world non-extradition kind of thing. He’s in the wind.’
‘We’ll take it back anyway, fuck it, you have anything better to do?’
They walked out of the barn house and looked again at the beautiful surroundings. No doubt the house would be repossessed and resold. The sun had muted in the afternoon sky and a cool breeze drifted through the air making the surrounding trees pulse as if they had their own heartbeat. The forest in the near distance looked like an underline for the beautiful orange sun.
Adrian breathed it all in before heading back into the city to deal with the Saturday-night binge drinking shift, part of his penance for messing his colleagues around before he got suspended. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he had got people to lie for him, about his whereabouts, about how sober he was or wasn’t, about a lot of things. He had so much to make up for and a lot of people to apologise to. He had promised to help Denise deal with the drunks on the desk on Saturday nights. He owed her a lot more than that but it was a start. Grey beeped the horn impatiently and he got in.
Sally waited at the door wagging her tail, knowing her master was approaching; she knew him by his walk, by the sound of his breathing, by his smell. Parker walked in and was greeted with an extremely happy Labrador Retriever. Sally was his life companion, his best friend, the one who would never forsake him. Parker and Sally had met almost seven years earlier and it was love at first sight, they needed each other and they knew it.
His house was a true reflection of his character, books on every surface, a stack of black leather notepads teeming with words, a small brown sofa which was obviously Sally’s favourite place to sit, judging by the layer of golden fluff on it. He fed Sally immediately, and as soon as she had finished her food he took her for a walk, walking past the museum that he had returned to this town for. He saw Abbey leaving work and walked over to her.
‘Abbey, this is my Sally.’ Abbey turned and smiled at the dog, a big full smile, Parker had not seen that smile before, he felt just by looking at it that he was invading her privacy; it was not intended for him. Abbey knelt down and rubbed the dog’s ears affectionately.
‘She’s lovely … Parker, I hope I didn’t offend you earlier. I was worried when you rushed off.’ She looked at him seriously while he racked his mind for what she could be referring to.
‘Oh no, you didn’t, I had to dash. I’m sorry but she barely forgave me for coming home late last night, I wouldn’t want to be in trouble two nights on the trot. I thought I could make it home and back before you left.’ He wasn’t lying. He had explained earlier how Sally had been so unimpressed with his late arrival the night before she had left a present for him on the living room floor. ‘I um … I wanted you to meet Sally.’
‘I see. Well, then, I understand completely.’ She beamed at him, the same smile she had used just moments before, he hoped she couldn’t notice his cheeks flushing in this light.
‘Can we walk you home?’ Parker asked. Abbey took Sally’s lead from him, her warm fingers brushing against his hands. He smiled back and put his hands in his pockets, walking behind them.
Parker wasn’t good with people, he knew it, they knew it; unless you were two hundred years old and furry then there was little chance of him being able to connect with you on any level. Parker was deliberately aloof. He didn’t like people to get too close, he didn’t like the idea of anyone seeing beneath the veneer, the thin layer of personality that was between his mind and the rest of the world. This had been true for almost everyone he had ever met, but this girl, Abbey, was different.
Parker watched as Abbey kept her distance from him, head turned firmly away, he knew she didn’t want to get close to him, she was just as happy as he was with prolonged silences – normally people feel the need to fill them with idle talk about God knows what. In some ways Parker was a little offended by her lack of interest in him, he was used to people wanting to understand him, which was funny because they never could, he made sure of that. Maybe there was something about dealing with the dead that made people like them bond, a kind of salute to a fellow enthusiast. But no, that wasn’t it, she was different. He recognised the signs of a broken spirit immediately; the way she held herself told him more than any amount of words could. He didn’t want to put her off, she had a sweetness about her. She wasn’t like most of the girls he met, she was quiet, insular and guarded. He knew it wouldn’t take much to push her away but he liked her for her shyness and he liked her instinct to be wary of people – he understood that feeling all too well.
Parker felt strange walking with Abbey. Again they did not talk, just walked, with her holding on to Sally’s lead and Sally happily accepting her new controller as she bounded towards the river with her usual zeal. They crossed the Iron Bridge and headed towards the town, past the smattering of old pubs and tattoo shops that were long overdue for some cosmetic attention. This time it was Parker who felt the need to fill the silence as he searched his mind for a topic.
‘Have you worked at the museum long?’ Best to stick to talking about work.
‘Five years,’ she said, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation as she crossed the busy road and headed down South Street. He increased his pace to catch up with her.
‘And you have no professional qualifications?’ She looked at him with a raised eyebrow then turned and carried on walking. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound rude, you really have done a great job, not that you need my approval or anything.’ He should probably shut up now.