âOnce he finds out where Remfry is and when heâs coming out, he starts sending the lettersâ¦â
âHe gets everything from Remfryâs mother?â
âRemfryâs motherâ¦maybe one of the prison staff. I just think there are other things we could be looking atâ¦â
âWhatâs the motive, Russell?â Still the big question. âWhy was Remfry killed?â
Brigstocke puffed out his cheeks, leaned back in his chair. âFucked if I know. Got to be worth talking to Mrs. Remfry again, thoughâ¦â
Thorne couldnât see it, and yet there was something in what Brigstocke had said. Something that had caused Thorneâs heart to beat faster, just for a second; but, like the face of someone in a dream, like an object he oughtto recognize, glimpsed from an unfamiliar angle, it had faded away before he could see it for what it was.
He was still trying to work it out when he spoke. âIâm chasing something else up. Something with the photosâ¦â
Brigstocke leaned forward, raised an eyebrow.
âIâll tell you if it comes to anything,â Thorne said. He looked at his watch. âFuck, Iâm going to be lateâ¦â
As he was standing up, the phone began to ring in his office next doorâ¦
Â
Hollandâs mobile had rung just as he was heading across to the pub, for what was becoming something of a regular lunchtime pint. Andy Stone had given him that look. The one heâd been getting from a few of the lads, whenever the mobile rang, and they saw his face as HOME came up on caller ID.
âShit,â Holland said.
Stone took a few steps toward the pub doorway and stopped. âShall I get you a beer, Dave?â
Holland pressed a button on the phone and brought it to his ear. After a few seconds he caught Stoneâs eye and shook his head.
Sophie was still crying when he walked through the door twenty minutes later.
âWhatâs the matter?â He wrapped his arms around her, knowing what the answer would be.
âNothing,â she said. âIâm sorryâ¦I know I shouldnât call.â The words sputtered into his collar between sobs.
âItâs okay. Look, Iâve only got about a quarter of an hour, but we can have a quick bit of lunch together. Iâll go back when youâre feeling calmer.â
The baby was three months away. It was easy enough to put these weekly collapses down to hormones, but heknew that there was much more going on. He knew how frightened she was. Frightened that he would make a choice between her and the job. That he would think she was forcing him to make a choice. That the baby would not be enough to make him choose her. He understood because he was twice as scared.
They sat on the sofa and cuddled until she grew quiet. He whispered and squeezed, feeling the bump against his leg that was the child inside her, staring across the living room and watching the minutes go by on the video recorder display.
Â
âThorne.â
âThis is Eve Bloomâ¦â
It took him a second to place the name, the voice. To put the two of them together. âOhâ¦hello. Sorry, I was miles away. Already thinking about lunch.â
âIs this not a good time? Becauseâ¦â
âItâs fine. What can I do for you?â
âJust being nosy, if Iâm honest. Wondered how it was all going. Stupid really, when I havenât the faintest idea what it actually is. Just, you know, curious as to whether that tape you took away has helped youâ¦solve⦠it! â
He remembered hearing the amusement in her voice before. The phone in that hotel room, pressed tight to his ear. Happy to hear it this time.
âFine, but I have to be somewhere about ten minutes ago, soâ¦â
âThatâs okay, I didnât really mean now anywayâ¦â
âSorry?â
âWhat about lunch on Saturday? You can ask me a few pointless