LAST RITES. Neil White
took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze, as if the action would make her stronger. ‘Tibbs is dead, Miss Hobbs.’
Abigail gave out a small cry as the events of the morning came back to her. She gripped his hand tightly as she realised what had exploded in front of her eyes.
He let her cry it out for a while, but when her quiet sobs died away, he asked gently, ‘Who would do that to you?’
He passed her a tissue, and as she wiped her nose, she replied, ‘I don't know. I've done nothing to harm anyone.’
‘No enemies?’
Abigail waved her hand dismissively. Rod took that as a no, but he wasn't too sure.
‘It's happened to other people, not just you,’ said Rod, watching her face for some recognition, but Abigail didn't respond. ‘Have you heard that?’ he pressed. ‘Do you know these other people?’
She turned away.
‘Miss Hobbs?’
‘Go to your family,’ she said.
‘How do you know I've got a family?’
‘You have a kind voice,’ she said softly. ‘That comes from contentment. And your family are waiting for you.’
That stalled him for a moment, but he asked again, ‘What's going on, Miss Hobbs?’
Abigail didn't answer. She rolled over in the bed so that he couldn't see her face any more.
He stood. ‘Sorry to have disturbed you,’ he said. ‘If you want to tell me anything, get in touch.’ And he wrote his name and number on a scrap of paper and placed it on the small cupboard next to Abigail's bed.
His footsteps were just light taps as he left the room. No one else stirred. He took one last look at Abigail, but she hadn't moved.
I waited for Laura in a coffee bar a few minutes' walk from the police station, in a cobbled backstreet with views over the cathedral gardens. It had a mocha coloured shop-front and rickety metal tables, none of the bright lights of the chain coffee-houses, but it sold good coffee and that was enough.
I had been thinking about Katie Gray, how she had been with me, that touch of her hand before I left. But then I saw Laura at the end of the street, and I felt a jump. Was it guilt? Or was it something better than that? Perhaps it was the excitement I used to have when I saw Laura, that feeling that I had got luckier than I deserved.
She flashed a quick look down the backstreet but then she waved when she saw me looking out of the window. I asked the café owner for another cappuccino and reached out my hand as she sat down. My fingers brushed over her knuckles, like we were stealing moments together.
‘I'm sorry about this morning,’ I said softly.
Laura moved her hand away. ‘Are you softening me up for something I don't want to hear?’
‘What do you mean?’
Laura sighed and then it turned into a smile. ‘I love you to death, Jack Garrett,’ she said, ‘but if you need to see me, and it's to do with work, I need to worry.’
I reached out for her hand again. She didn't move it this time, and I felt her fingers grip mine. They felt different to Katie's. Older somehow, her skin dry, the veins showing on the back of her hand.
‘I went to see Sam Nixon this morning,’ I said.
‘I know. Keep going.’
‘He wanted me to meet someone. Two people in fact.’ I paused for effect, to make sure I could properly gauge Laura's response. ‘They were Sarah Goode's parents.’
Laura didn't react at first. Then I saw her eyes widen.
‘The teacher wanted for murder?’
I nodded slowly.
‘Jack, what are you playing at?’
‘Nothing. That's why I'm telling you.’
‘What did they want?’
‘In an ideal world, to turn the clock back,’ I answered. ‘But as they can't, they want me to find their daughter.’
‘Why? Do they think she is innocent?’
‘I don't know. Perhaps they just want to stop her from doing something stupid.’
‘But why you?’
I gave a small smile. ‘I'm cheaper than a private detective. If there is a story in it, I'll do the research. They just want to find their daughter.’
‘But why go through Sam Nixon?’
I didn't answer that. I knew that Laura would work it out as quickly as I had.
‘They want you to find her so that they can bring her in on their terms,’ she said. ‘They want to get her story straight.’
‘Maybe. I just don't know,’ I said. ‘But they know that Sarah is in trouble and so went to a defence lawyer first.’
‘So why are you telling me?’ said Laura, and she pulled her fingers away again.
‘What's wrong?’ I asked.
Laura looked into her coffee for a few seconds, and then she said, ‘I've put my career on hold for Bobby, to make sure he stays with us. I'd even give it up completely for him, if I had to, but you won't even give up a story.’
‘It's not like that,’ I protested. ‘It won't affect the custody case, because it won't go to print for a long time, at least until after she is convicted.’
‘So why are you telling me, if it won't affect anything with Bobby?’ she asked.
‘Because if I'm being used, someone else is in control of what happens, and I don't like that. So I want you to tell the murder team what I'm doing. They won't like it, but if I find out where she is before they do, I'll tell them.’
Laura folded her arms. ‘Have you met the murder team?’ When I shook my head, she continued, ‘They've been strutting around the station ever since Luke's body was found. We're just the small-town hicks who can't cope, waiting to be saved by headquarters, and you're worse than that, because you're not in the job. All you'll do is antagonise them if you get in the way.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘You don't sound pleased with them.’
Laura sighed. ‘I'm just bored, Jack. I didn't join the police to process prisoners. I joined it to solve crimes, as corny as it sounds.’
‘So maybe you know how I feel?’
I saw her soften, felt her fingers grip mine again.
‘The judge isn't going to give Geoff custody of Bobby just because you're good at your job,’ I said.
Tears flashed into Laura's eyes. She took a deep breath. ‘We've been through this too many times now,’ she said, ‘and I know that nothing is dead certain in a courtroom. I'm not taking that chance.’
When I didn't respond, she added, ‘You're going to get involved, though, aren't you?’
‘I think it's worth a look.’
Laura thought about that for a few seconds, and then she stood up to go. ‘I've got to get back to work,’ she said.
‘Laura?’
‘You'll do what you want to do, Jack,’ she said wearily. ‘You always do.’
And then she went.
I saw the waiter looking at me when I turned around. He shrugged. I didn't have a response to that. Instead, I watched Laura disappear out of view, her head down, and I thought that she looked a long way from home.