Reginald Hill – Midnight Fugue (страница 10)
‘I’ll top myself first,’ he said.
Fleur had given him the look that since she was nine had reversed the three years between them and made him feel like her kid brother.
‘Don’t talk stupid, Vince,’ she’d said brusquely. ‘Now, where are you going when you get out?’
He looked at her, puzzled, and said, ‘Thought I’d come home to start with…’
‘Home’s gone, Vince. I’ve got my own place now. You’re welcome to come and live with me, but there’s rules. You do things my way, in or out of the flat. Break the rules, and you’re on your own. For good. What do you say? Yes or no?’
‘Well, sounds all right, sis, but a guy’s got to have a bit of choice, know what I mean…’
‘Yes or no, Vince. That’s one of the rules. I ask yes or no, you answer yes or no.’
‘OK, keep your hair on. I mean yes.’
‘Something else. I think I can get you a job.’
‘You mean, like…a job?’ he said, horrified.
She shook her head. She knew her limitations.
‘I mean like the kind of job you’re good at,’ she said. ‘Except that what you’re not good at is not getting caught. So if you come to live with me, you come to work for me too, OK? No branching out on your own. I call the shots, OK?’
‘Is that a yes or no question, sis?’
‘It’s a yes or yes question, Vince. If you want to live with me, that is.’
‘Then yes.’
It had been a good decision. There’d been a couple of rebellious moments–like he’d said, a man’s got to have a bit of independence–but they’d all got sorted, and Fleur had one great argument to support that her way was the best way: for more than a dozen years now he’d stayed out of jail!
He put the photo back in his wallet and for want of anything better to do let his gaze focus on the open hymn book once more. Some of this stuff was dead easy, but a lot of it was like reading the instruction book for a computer.
What the hell was that all about?
He sighed and shifted in the chair whose wickerwork seat felt as if it was stamping its imprint on his behind. The thought took him back to his first time inside. They’d made him strip and take a shower. One of the screws had said mockingly, ‘Nice arse, Delay. You’re going to enjoy yourself here.’
It had taken half a dozen of the bastards to drag him off the man and then they’d given him a good kicking. But he’d been limping round the yard a couple of days later, an object of respect, and the screw had still been in hospital.
Happy days.
But not the kind of happy days he ever wanted to enjoy again. He was going to stay out whatever it took. And if ever Fleur’s way looked like failing, then he’d just have to do things his own way.
Normally Andy Dalziel was to diplomacy what Alexander the Great was to knots, but this time he hesitated the cutting edge and essayed a bit of gentle plucking.
‘So you and Mick, this a long-standing engagement…?’
She laughed, a pleasant sound which the old cathedral absorbed with indifference though a few human heads turned in surprise.
‘What you mean is, how long have we been at it? Or even more bluntly, were we at it while Alex was still around? Very much not. Mick stayed in touch, we became good friends, we were close, I could tell he was interested romantically, so to speak, but it wasn’t till the end of last year that I finally acknowledged that Alex was gone for good. Mick’s told me since he was starting to think I’d never get Alex out of my system. It came as a real shock to him when I finally made the break.’
Hearing himself proposing marriage must have come as a bit of a shock to Mick, too, thought Dalziel. He recalled Purdy declaring one boozy night that the only woman worth marrying was a billionairess with huge tits, no family, and an hour to live.
Still, men often change their views on marriage. He certainly had.
He went on, ‘So you left Mick a message telling him to ring you. And then…?’
‘I called my solicitor. He wasn’t all that pleased, it being Saturday. That didn’t bother me. I’m paying the louse and no doubt he’ll charge me double time.’
‘Good lass,’ said Dalziel, who loved anybody who hated lawyers. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said he wished I hadn’t told him about the photo. Because now I had, he was bound to include knowledge of it in his plea for assumption of death.’
‘Covering himself in case it later came out that Alex was alive, right?’
‘Right. I asked him what I should do. He said that all I could do was make every reasonable effort to check out the possibility that my husband was alive and living in Mid-Yorkshire. He said that on receipt of my written assurance that such an effort had been made, he would go ahead with the application.’
‘Lawyers,’ said Dalziel, ‘I’ve shit ’em. So what did you do then?’
‘I rang the Keldale Hotel.’
‘Oh aye. Why’d you do that?’
‘Because I wanted somewhere to stay when I got here and it was the obvious place. Why use the hotel’s notepaper unless it meant something?’
Mebbe because it meant nothing, thought Dalziel, nodding as if in agreement and saying, ‘And then?’
‘Then I threw some stuff in a case and drove up here,’ she said.
‘Don’t hang around, do you?’ said Dalziel admiringly.
‘You might say I’ve been hanging around for seven years,’ she said. ‘But no more. I was determined to get this thing settled one way or another.’
‘So you’d worked out a plan of action, had you?’
‘That makes it sound a bit grand,’ she said ruefully. ‘At the Keldale reception, I showed them a photo of Alex, but it didn’t ring any bells. The only other idea I had was to run a small ad in the local paper using the same photo of Alex and offering a reward to anyone supplying information. But it was too late when I got here, the newspaper office was closed.’
‘Aye, we like to keep civilized hours up here,’ said Dalziel. ‘We don’t let news happen at the weekend. So what did Mick Purdy have to say about all this? You must have got to speak with him if he’s ringing me.’
‘Yes, I did, but not till last night after I’d arrived here. When he realized where I was, he didn’t sound very happy. And when I told him what I planned to do, he sort of groaned. I wasn’t in the mood to be groaned at and I’m afraid I snapped at him. To tell the truth, I was really frustrated I couldn’t get on with things straight away.’
‘Should have thought about that afore you came rushing up here,’ said Dalziel portentously. ‘Could have saved yourself a couple of night’s rent at the Keldale, which won’t be peanuts.’
‘You know, you sound just like Mick!’ she said. ‘It ended with me saying one thing I could do on Sunday was call in at the local cop shop and check if they were any more helpful up here than down in the Met. He asked me–asked, not told–he’s a quick learner–he asked me not to do anything till he got back to me. Then he had to rush off–he was still in the middle of his op.’
‘And you sat up anxiously all night waiting for your wise fiancé to call with instructions like any good girl would,’ said Dalziel.
She smiled and said, ‘Naturally. Actually I didn’t sleep so well and I was up and out not long after seven, driving around. I know it’s stupid, but I thought I might just happen to spot Alex on the street or something.’
‘Aye, I’ve had daft buggers in the CID who thought that was how it worked,’ said Dalziel. ‘But not for long!’
He expected that to provoke a rueful smile. Instead she frowned and looked away.
‘Come on!’ he said. ‘You’re not saying you clocked him!’
She shook her head and said, ‘No. Worse than that. I thought I did. Three times. I even followed a car for half a mile, and the driver who looked like Alex turned out to be a woman!’
‘Could have had a sex change, I suppose,’ said Dalziel. ‘But I shouldn’t let it bother you, luv. Your mind can play funny tricks when you’re not quite right with yourself. Look at Blair and Bush and all them weapons of mass destruction. And I once thought I saw England win the world cup.’
That got a smile and she went on, ‘Anyway, chasing that woman driver convinced me I was acting stupidly. Then my mobile rang and it was Mick. When I told him what I’d been doing, I heard him start that groaning again, but he managed to choke it off. Then he told me about you.’
‘Let me guess,’ said Dalziel. ‘He said he had this old mucker who was top-man on the Mid-Yorkshire Force and he was just the guy to make a few discreet enquiries afore you started your public manhunt, right?’
It made some kind of sense.
She said, ‘More or less. That was about eight o’clock, He said it was probably better to contact you at home because this wasn’t really official police business. He said he was going to ring you there to put you in the picture and would let me know as soon as he’d made contact. I told him I’d wait for his call at the hotel, but soon as he rang off I stuck the address he gave me in my sat-nav and headed round to your street. I just had to be doing something, even if I thought…’
She tailed off and he said, ‘Even if you thought I’d probably be a waste of time. So, soon as Mick rang and said he’d talked to me, you were going to be ringing my bell!’