Free She's Not Coming Home by Philip Cox

the same, the walk was the same, as were the hair colour and style; as she turned round to face Matt, he could see she was of Asian descent – Japanese, Matt assumed.
    Matt froze, lost for words.
    ‘I – I…’ was all he could manage.
    ‘It’s you,’ said the guy. ‘The guy from the elevator yesterday.’
    Matt said nothing.
    ‘Who is he, Danny?’ asked the woman, in a worried voice. She reached up and put her hand on his arm. ‘Who is this man?’
    ‘Nobody, baby,’ Danny replied, resting his hand on hers. ‘Just nobody.’
    ‘I – I’m sorry,’ said Matt. ‘I saw the two of you, and I assumed…’
    ‘You assumed she was Ruth Gibbons,’ Danny said. ‘That was her name, wasn’t it?’
    Matt nodded.
    ‘I said I’m sorry,’ he said. Then turned to the woman. ‘I thought you were someone else.’
    ‘Well, you were wrong,’ Danny said. ‘This is Aki, my girlfriend. She’s just met me for lunch.’
    Matt nodded and began to back away.
    ‘Like I said, I’m sorry,’ he said quietly, turned and made his way out of the bar. Back on Washington, he rubbed his chin and looked up and down the street. He stood outside the bar a moment while he considered what to do next. He decided he would take up his place by the bus stop and continue his vigil. If this abortive trip to the bar meant he had missed Ruth going out, he could still catch her returning. He walked back up to the bus stop and sat down again on the concrete bench. The man reading the USA Today was still there.
    After five minutes he saw a figure he knew. She was a young African American returning to the Cambridge Pharmaceuticals building carrying a brown Subway bag. Matt recognized her as the receptionist he spoke to yesterday.
    ‘Ayesha,’ he called out, getting up from the bench. She paused momentarily, and began to hurry on once she realised who he was.
    ‘Ayesha, please,’ Matt said, catching her up.
    ‘Please go away, mister. I don’t want no trouble,’ Ayesha said nervously.
    ‘I just want to show you a picture,’ Matt said. ‘That’s all. Then I’ll leave you.’
    She nodded hurriedly. Matt retrieved a picture of Ruth on his phone and showed it to her.
    ‘This is Ruth Gibbons,’ he said. ‘My wife. She might be calling herself Ruth Levene.’
    ‘I told you yesterday, mister. I don’t know her.’
    ‘But have you ever seen her going in and out of the building? Please?’
    She took a closer look at the photograph, then shook her head.
    ‘I’m sorry, mister. I never seen her. Never.’
    ‘Okay. Thanks anyway. Sorry to have troubled you.’
    Ayesha nodded, and hurried off, and through the glass doors. Matt returned to the bench.
    Over the next hour, he witnessed a dozen or so more groups and individuals leave the building, and return, normally with some type of bag containing their lunch. Just before one thirty, two young women walked past, both talking and laughing, each carrying a Subway bag. Matt recognized them as having left the building a little earlier. One was very tall, well over six feet, and towered over her companion, who was at least eighteen inches shorter.
    ‘Excuse me,’ he said, standing up and walking over to them. They stopped and looked over to him.
    ‘I’m so sorry to trouble you,’ he asked, ‘but do you work for Cambridge Pharmaceuticals?’
    They looked at each other, and then nodded. Both had a puzzled expression.
    ‘I was just wondering if either of you knew a Ruth Gibbons. Ruth Levene, maybe.’
    Before they had the chance to reply, he took out his phone and showed them Ruth’s picture. The taller one looked down at the other, then back to the picture.
    ‘No. I’m sorry, I don’t,’ she said.
    Matt nodded and turned to the shorter one.
    ‘And you? Do you know -?’
    ‘No. I’ve never seen her before.’
    The two women turned and walked away, back to work, the taller one a couple of paces behind.
    Putting the phone back in his pocket, Matt returned to the bench. He checked his