Free See How They Run by Tom Bale Page A

because of a package that was too big for the letterbox. There was some other post as well. I took it and shut the door, and then someone else knocked, literally a few seconds later.’
    ‘Okay.’ Harry could feel his heart pounding. He thought of Ruth pressing him: No deliveries at all? And that produced another jolt.
    Who was Ruth, really?
    Alice went on: ‘It was a man of about sixty, sixty-five. Not exactly like the description we got last night. He was plump rather than fat, nearly bald – just that kind of white fuzz – and he had a thick grey beard.’
    ‘Was he Middle Eastern?’
    She shrugged. ‘I suppose he had a slight accent. He told me his name, but I honestly can’t remember what it was. All I know is that it matched what was on the envelope. He said something about his sister-in-law – he’d spoken to her that morning and found she’d got her numbers mixed up.’
    Harry couldn’t help snorting. ‘Right.’
    She glowered. ‘I had no reason to be suspicious.’
    ‘But didn’t you ask him to prove his identity?’
    ‘Why? If the parcel was addressed to Grainger, or whatever it was, and he said his name was Grainger, what reason would I have to question it?’
    Harry conceded the point. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘It’s not like we don’t get the wrong mail from time to time. If he hadn’t knocked I’ve have scribbled, “Not known at this address” and stuck it in a post box.’
    ‘Did you see where he went?’
    ‘I think he crossed the road, but I didn’t stay and watch. Evie needed changing. I shut the door and never gave it another thought.’
    Harry took a gulp of vodka, already aware that one glass wouldn’t be enough.
    ‘He said the numbers got mixed up? We’re 34. Does that mean he lives at number 43?’
    ‘Possibly.’ Alice hesitated. ‘I had a word with Clare McIntosh today. I didn’t say anything about the break-in – just had a general chat about neighbours. 43 is owned by a woman who emigrated years ago. Clare says it’s been rented out in the past, but she thinks it’s empty at the moment.’
    Harry pulled a face. ‘Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone coming or going.’
    ‘Me neither. But now it’s got me wondering if he’s in there. Hiding.’

    H arry mulled it over while automatically rocking Evie in his arms. He glanced down and found she was asleep.
    ‘Her routine’s in chaos,’ Alice said. ‘We’ll pay for that tonight.’
    ‘Can’t be helped.’ Harry set Evie down in the Moses basket, then refilled his glass and sat beside Alice. She had barely touched her vodka, having vowed to drink sparingly while breastfeeding.
    ‘I’m sorry.’ Tentatively, she placed a hand on his knee. ‘Last night I just froze. But even if I’d told them, it wouldn’t have been enough to stop them hurting us – or worse.’
    ‘Maybe not. Or maybe they’d have gone storming over to number 43.’
    Alice shivered. ‘After what you said this morning, I’ve been wondering if Renshaw did it deliberately. Arranging to have the parcel sent here, knowing he could collect it and keep his own address a secret.’
    Harry had to think about that for a moment. He felt sick. And a little angry, too, if he was honest. But he had no right to be: would he really have acted any differently, in the circumstances?
    ‘There’s another reason I didn’t tell you,’ Alice said quietly. ‘It occurred to me during the night that we were more convincing – or you were, I mean. Because you didn’t know about a parcel.’
    ‘Maybe.’ He frowned. ‘You’re saying you were going to keep it secret, in case they came back?’
    She gestured weakly at him, as if exhausted by this conversation. ‘Well, didn’t you think they might? Isn’t that why you kept asking if I’d be all right here today?’
    ‘I suppose. So what’s in this parcel, do you reckon?’
    She shrugged. ‘It was just an ordinary padded envelope. A bit bigger than A4, quite thick and heavy. But it felt like paper inside,