When Night Closes in (16 page)

‘Anything wrong?' Sally asked. Lowri shook her head.

‘Not really but this letter should have been put in Mr Watson's room, it's marked private and confidential.' She got up from her chair. ‘I'll take it to him now.'

She had noticed the postmark was Summer's Dean. A coincidence, or was it?

The new receptionist was now sitting at her desk. She frowned as Lowri crossed the room to Mr Watson's office.

‘Can I help you?' Her tone was curt and Lowri shook her head.

‘I don't think so. I've been working here for some time now, I think I can manage.'

‘Please yourself.' Mrs Jenkins was a woman in her forties. She had cropped hair and wore thick black tights and flat shoes. Sally had hit the nail on the head when she said Mrs Jenkins looked more like a policewoman than a receptionist.

Was it possible Lainey had put a constable in to watch her? Lowri pressed her lips together in annoyance. If that was the case Lainey could just keep his nose out of her business.

She knocked on the door to Mr Watson's office; there was no reply. The superior voice of the receptionist stopped her as she lifted her hand to knock again.

‘Mr Watson has gone to the cloakroom, if you'd asked I would have told you.'

Lowri opened the office door and put the letter on the desk and then with a grim look approached Mrs Jenkins.

‘Look here, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or is this personal?' she said flatly. ‘In any case, you seem quite unsuited for the job, so why are you working here?'

The woman looked up at her. ‘That's a stupid question. I could ask you why
you
are working here.' She had a strange way of hardly moving her lips when she spoke. ‘I presume it's because you like the work and, more importantly, because you need the money.'

‘Are you sure no-one has put you up to this?' Lowri said. ‘You've hardly got a good bedside manner as it were.'

Mrs Jenkins half smiled. ‘Neither am I a raving beauty?'

Lowri was nonplussed. ‘Well no, I didn't mean that exactly.'

‘I am expert at my job, Miss Richards. That is why I'm here.' The woman returned to her work, clicking the mouse, moving speedily from one command to the next on the computer.

‘I've always envied those who can make a difficult job appear easy,' Lowri said quietly. She reckoned she might as well make a friend as an enemy, whatever Mrs Jenkins was up to.

‘Thank you.' Mrs Jenkins seemed to have decided to take Lowri's words at face value. ‘It comes in handy to be computer literate these days.'

‘Well, I only work in the conveyancing side of things,' Lowri said, ‘but I seem to be getting better the more I use a computer.'

She watched as Mrs Jenkins brought onto the screen a list of clients' names and addresses and account numbers. The receptionist glanced up for a moment. ‘If you'll excuse me, I have to get on.'

Lowri returned to her own office, making a rueful face at Sally. ‘You were right, she's a dragon lady. Do you think she's for real?'

Sally looked up at her. ‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘Well, don't you think Mrs Jenkins seems an unlikely person for the job?'

‘Not really,' Sally said. ‘Receptionists aren't all glamorous. And young kids would be too frightened of some of the roughnecks we get wanting legal aid.'

‘That's a bit sweeping, isn't it?' Lowri pulled a file towards her. ‘I mean not everyone who needs legal aid is a villain. Look at it this way, would you or I have the money to take a big firm to court, for instance?'

‘Well, no,' Sally said. ‘But there's no need to get het up about it.' She gave Lowri a long look. ‘What's got into you?'

‘I don't know,' Lowri said. ‘But just one thing, why would a receptionist want to look up clients' accounts on the computer?'

‘I expect Mr Watson or one of the other solicitors asked her to,' Sally volunteered. ‘I wouldn't waste time worrying about it if I were you.'

‘Ah but then you are not under suspicion, are you? You are not a target for the police to shoot at any time they choose.'

‘Time for a coffee, I think,' Sally said. ‘You're getting snappy and just a wee bit paranoid.'

Lowri sighed. She probably
was
getting paranoid, suspicious of the most trivial event. ‘A cup of coffee sounds just the job.'

As the morning wore on, Lowri found herself unable to concentrate on her work. She looked over at Sally, who seemed to have nothing better to do than repair her chipped nail polish.

‘What about an early lunch?' Lowri said.

Sally agreed at once. ‘That's just what I was thinking. I didn't have any breakfast so I'm starving.'

‘What do you think?' Lowri asked. ‘Shall we go to the deli and grab a sandwich?'

‘Let's have a change.' Sally was enthusiastic. ‘Let's try the Queens, they serve smashing grub and I've heard that the screws from the prison eat in there. We might see a bit of prime talent.'

Lowri smiled. ‘Don't you ever think of anything else, Sal?'

‘No, not really. Oh come on, Lowri, let's have something decent to eat for a change. You don't get a medal for wearing yourself to a frazzle in the office, remember.' She grimaced. ‘Anyway, we can leave the dragon lady to look after things, can't we?'

In the Queens, the hubbub of voices rose and fell like some arcane chant. In the background Lowri heard the gentle hum of taped music, music that she and Jon had played together many times. Her vision suddenly blurred. She turned away, rubbing her eyes, not wanting Sally to see she was upset.

She tried to examine her feelings: she was disillusioned with Jon, wasn't she? Well, why let the sudden burst of nostalgia upset her? Lowri told herself to relax as she waited for Sally to study the board above the bar.

The pub was warm and smelled of smoke and food. Lowri looked around; the lounge bar was pretty crowded and as Sally had predicted there were several men in uniform, standing at the bar and sitting at tables eating lunch.

Lowri smiled. At least Sally would be happy; she blossomed in male company. It was a wonder she chose to work in a small office where she was unlikely to meet any fanciable men.

The sight of people laughing and joking together, smoking and enjoying a drink, made Lowri suddenly feel lonely. She wondered how long it was since she had felt carefree, had laughed and had fun. Certainly not since that night at the Swan when Jon had walked out on her. Why had he done it, why leave her to face the music? Whatever the music was . . .

‘They've got steak and ale pie or fish and salad,' Sally reported back. ‘Or you could just have a salad roll if you're thinking of your waistline.' She looked at Lowri. ‘Not that you have to worry about that.' She stood with her hands resting on the table. Today her nails were bright blue.

‘Oh and in case you're interested, your detective is by the bar with a gorgeous-looking policewoman. I've made a point of letting him know we're here.'

Lowri's heart did a flip. She swallowed hard. ‘I think I'll just have a roll, I'm not very hungry,' she said.

‘Suit yourself, I'm having the steak and ale pie.' Sally went to order the food and when she returned to the table Lainey was with her. Lowri was suddenly tense – she knew her colour had risen.

‘Mind if I sit down for a minute?' he asked and without waiting for a reply he sat beside her. ‘Mr Watson and your father were friends, I understand?' he said evenly. Lowri looked at him and frowned.

‘Not to my knowledge,' she said. ‘I don't think Charles has any friends.'

‘Didn't your father speak to Mr Watson about you, isn't that how you got the job in the solicitors' office?'

‘I got the job on merit,' Lowri said edgily. ‘And if you want to know anything about Charles you'd better ask him. I haven't communicated with my father properly in years.' She leaned forward, elbows on the table. ‘He more or less disowned me when I opted out of college.'

A waitress brought the food and Sally immediately picked up her knife and fork and cut into the pie. Rich gravy spilled over the edges of the dish and suddenly Lowri felt sick.

‘Do you think you could let us have our lunch in peace?' she said. ‘I understand you are with someone. Isn't it rude and somewhat short-sighted to leave a beautiful colleague alone in a place like this?'

Lainey smiled. ‘Maybe.' He rose and nodded politely. ‘I'll be seeing you again soon.'

Lowri could have kicked herself. All she had done was to sound like a jealous wife. Lainey must think her a real fool.

‘Go on, tuck in,' Sally said, ‘the food is delicious, we should come here more often.'

Lowri ate a little of her salad roll. Her head was aching and all she could think of was Lainey with a beautiful policewoman.

‘Why don't you go to the loo?' Sally asked. Lowri looked at her, puzzled by the turn the conversation had taken.

‘I don't particularly want to.'

‘Well, I'm just suggesting it because Lainey and the woman are now sitting at a table near the door – if you go to the loo you can have a good look at her.'

Lowri hated herself for listening to Sally but curiosity got the better of her. She dabbed her mouth with the thick paper napkin and smoothed down her skirt. ‘Aye, why not?' She smiled. ‘I think I do want to go, after all.'

They were talking, heads close together. Funny, Lainey had always given the impression he was alone. He did not see her as she passed the table and Lowri was relieved. She had a feeling that DI Lainey would know exactly what she was up to.

In the ladies' room Lowri stared at her reflection, thinking how pale and uninteresting she looked. She was not a beautiful woman but she liked to think she had some degree of sex appeal. Now even that seemed to have gone. Was that because she had seen Lainey with another woman?

‘You jealous cow!' she told her reflection.

When she returned to the lounge bar, the table where Lainey had been sitting was empty. Lowri hurried back across the room and flopped into her seat looking down at her watch.

‘We should be getting back to work, you seem to have finished your lunch.'

Sally patted her flat stomach. ‘Enjoyed every morsel. Good pie that, you should have tried it.' She picked up her bag and jacket. ‘Right then, back to the grind.'

As they left the Queens and walked the short distance to the office, Lowri was silent. Sally kept glancing at her as though unsure what to say. ‘Has that copper upset you?'

‘Of course not!'

‘Right.' Sally pushed open the door to the office and walked inside. ‘It's colder in here than it is outside,' she remarked.

Mrs Jenkins was busy with clients – the small reception area seemed to strain at the seams whenever there were more than a couple of people in it. She glanced up as Lowri walked past the desk.

‘There was a call for you,' she said. ‘I wish you would not have private calls which I have to deal with.'

‘I don't usually have private calls at all,' Lowri said. ‘Perhaps it's an emergency. Was it my mother by any chance?'

‘No it was not.' Mrs Jenkins's eyes narrowed. ‘It was from a man, a Mr Brandon.'

Lowri stopped short. ‘Say that again.'

Mrs Jenkins looked at her in surprise. ‘I've got enough to do, can't you see that? It was a Mr Brandon.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘I'm not in the habit of taking the wrong information,' Mrs Jenkins said huffily.

‘Did you take his number? It's urgent.'

‘No, he didn't offer it and I didn't ask.'

Lowri picked up the phone. Mrs Jenkins took it back from her and replaced it, frowning disapprovingly. ‘No good trying 1471, there have been at least six calls since then.'

Lowri went into her office and sat down. ‘What do you think, Sally?' she said, feeling bemused. ‘When we were out Jon phoned and that fool of a woman didn't take his number. I could cheerfully kill her!'

‘Jon phoned?' Sally's eyes widened. ‘Jon Brandon phoned?'

‘That's right,' Lowri said, ‘the inimitable vanishing man phoned and I don't know where I can get hold of him.' She sighed heavily. ‘I could have cleared the whole thing up if I had been able to talk to him.'

‘Well you could knock me down with a feather!' Sally stared at her. ‘Perhaps it's a hoax.'

‘I'll talk to Mr Watson, see what he has to say.' Lowri took off her jacket and put it over the chair. ‘I won't be long.'

Mr Watson was alone in his office. He looked up and smiled as Lowri opened his door. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute, Mr Watson?' she asked.

‘Come in. Of course you can talk to me any time, Lowri, you know that. Sit down and for goodness' sake relax, you look all wound up.'

‘The receptionist, Mrs Jenkins, she said I'd had a phone call while I was out.' Lowri swallowed. ‘She said it was from a Mr Brandon. Is there any way I can check that?'

‘Possibly.' Mr Watson took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. ‘But I don't think it would help. After all, people call from mobile phones, from call-boxes, from hotels and public houses, don't they?'

He was right. Lowri shook her head. ‘I just wish I'd been here! I could have found out what's going on once and for all.'

‘It could be a coincidence,' Mr Watson said. ‘There are possibly several hundred people called Brandon living hereabouts.'

‘It would be a very strange coincidence, wouldn't it?' Lowri said. ‘Even supposing you're right, why ask specially for me?'

‘Look, my dear, put the whole thing out of your head,' Mr Watson said. ‘I think you are worrying too much about all this. Let the police sort it out, it's their job after all.'

‘But they suspect me of all sorts of things, colluding with Jon to move money about for one. I think they might believe I've done away with him so that I can have everything.' She rubbed her face. ‘I just wish I'd been here to take the call.'