Dead Time (28 page)

‘So his name's not Frank Palmer?'

Henry shook his head.

‘And he might have stabbed Ricky?'

‘We don't know that. It's just something we're looking into. At the moment we're doing door to door in King's Cross. Asking his neighbours about him. That's what I'm doing today so I should be off.'

‘King's Cross?'

He nodded. ‘That's where he lived.'

‘But …'

‘I just wanted to be sure that you were OK after DI Schillings spoke to you.'

Rose looked away, her forehead scrunched up. King's Cross?

‘Are you OK? You've been through a lot.'

She nodded in a distracted way.

‘Now I've really got to get off.'

She watched him go. He walked swiftly away and headed towards the squad car. He gave a half-wave as he got in. Did Frank Palmer live in King's Cross? Surely she had seen him opening the front door of a house in
Twickenham? The squad car drove off and she headed for the cafe.

A jumped-up Nancy Drew.

Let the police do their own investigations.

Once inside the cafe she saw that her seat had been taken and that Joshua and Skeggsie were on their feet, putting their coats on.

‘You were a long time,' Joshua said.

‘Something's come up,' she said, looking distracted.

‘Are we going?' Skeggsie said pointedly to Joshua.

‘Yep.'

‘Can I come?' Rose said.

‘To Twickenham? I didn't think you would be bothered again.'

‘And I've got some stuff in the back seat of my car so there's not really room,' Skeggsie said, giving her a frown.

‘Please?' Rose said, trying a pleading look.

She didn't want to be on her own again, knocking round the house, avoiding the rooms that Anna was using, thinking over the messiness of all that had happened that week.

‘There's not really room,' Skeggsie said.

‘I don't take up much space.'

Joshua looked puzzled. ‘Why do you want to come?'

‘I don't know. I just do.'

‘Come on, then.'

Skeggsie scowled at her as she went after Joshua.

The journey to Twickenham was quick. Rose was sitting on less than half the back seat, her legs squashed up against the rear of Joshua. Beside her sat the box of a brand-new printer. On the side were the words
Laser Jet CP36525dn Colour Laser Printer.
She wondered where this would fit in among Skeggsie's vast array of IT equipment.

She half listened as Joshua explained the reasoning behind going back to the B and B for a third time. She nodded and ummed but really she didn't care about any of it. On the previous Tuesday they'd found out more than they ever thought they would. Her mum and Brendan had planned their own disappearance. What was the point of returning to the B and B? What would they find out? Information that would simply rub away at the hurt and grief they already felt.

And in the end what did it all mean?

Her mum and Brendan were still dead.

So what if the first days of their disappearance were something they organised themselves. Perhaps, like
the inspector who came to see her said, they had been targeted by career criminals and killed to stop them uncovering evidence of organised crime. Maybe this had happened after they'd flown off from Heathrow. Nothing had been heard for five years. Now she wished, more than anything, that Joshua would leave it alone.

In Twickenham the Pay and Display parking bays near the B and B were full up and Skeggsie had to go further up the road. He parked the car almost opposite to where Rose had seen the technician, Frank Palmer, going into a house the week before. The front door was green with no glass and looked unwelcoming. Next door's was completely different – solid wood with frosted panes and a brass knocker and letter box.

‘I'm going to stay here,' she said.

‘How come?'

She shrugged. Skeggsie closed his door and walked off.

‘You all right, Rosie?' Joshua said.

‘Just got some stuff to think about.'

He nodded and then followed Skeggsie. She watched them approach the B and B, Skeggsie stopping and waiting for Joshua. When they went inside she found herself relaxing, stretching her legs along the side of the printer box.

She looked at the house across the road again. If she could
confirm
that the technician, Frank Palmer, really did live there then she could make an anonymous call
to the police to inform them. She would not want Henry or anyone else knowing that she had been the source of the tip. She remembered Detective Inspector Schillings' reprimand. She never ever wanted to see that man again.

She might see Frank Palmer going by; perhaps coming out of his house or returning to it after shopping. She'd seen him the previous Saturday – why shouldn't she see him today? After a few moments she sighed, leaning her head against the corner of the printer box. It was a stupid plan. Frank Palmer may be staying in all day or going out all day. Either way she could sit there in the back of Skeggsie's car for hours and not see him. In any case they wouldn't be parked there for hours. Joshua was going to talk to the owner of the B and B. How long would it take for her to say that she didn't remember anything from five years ago?

It might be that Frank Palmer didn't live in the house at all. She'd seen him use a key on the front door but it may be that it was a key for a
friend's
house.

She could get out of the car, go across the road and knock on the door of the house and see if he answered. If so, then it would prove that he lived there. If he didn't, she could ask for him by name. Whoever answered the front door would know who lived in the house. But that plan wasn't good either. If Frank Palmer did answer, then he would recognise her. If he really was on the run from the police, then her presence would alert him to the fact
that someone knew his real address. He would just run away again.

She looked across at the house. Part of the front of it was obscured by an old tree on the pavement. Its leaves were going yellow and its branches looked heavy as though it was weary. The building was two storeys high and had two bells by the front door; two flats. She looked at the large bay window on the ground floor. The lower half of the window was covered with a net curtain and drapes hung at the sides.

The net curtain moved and she saw a face at the side of the window. It was only there for a second before the curtain dropped back into place. Had it been Frank Palmer? She didn't know. It had only been a glimpse.

She sat back in her tiny space in the back of the Mini.

Why did she care who killed Ricky Harris? Henry said he had been killed with his own knife, that possibly
he
had been the aggressor. That tied up with everything she knew or thought about Ricky. As well as being a bully he had deceived his girlfriend by seeing her stepsister. Then he was stealing stuff and getting involved with dangerous people.

Why should she give a hoot about that obnoxious boy?

She didn't. But Ricky's death had started a chain of events. Sherry had blamed Ricky's death on Lewis Proctor. She was almost certainly wrong about that but, still, that's what she thought when she went to the
cemetery to meet Emma and Lewis and have it out with them. Had it been in a fit of rage or had she planned it in some way to get back at Lewis?
You took away the person I loved, why shouldn't I take away the person you love?

It was complicated but Rose couldn't help feeling that if Ricky hadn't been killed then Emma would be alive today. The Sherry/Ricky/Emma/Lewis/Bee mix would have sorted itself out in the way that romances did. People would move on, hearts would get broken, new couples would emerge from the debris.

But Ricky Harris had been stabbed.

If Frank Palmer killed him then he should be arrested. She was still resentful that by pleading manslaughter Sherry Baxter wouldn't get the punishment Rose thought she deserved. If Frank Palmer was involved in Ricky's death, then it was suddenly important to her that he paid the price for it.

The passenger car door opened and Joshua's face was there. He was smiling. The driver's door opened and Skeggsie got in. Joshua started to speak breathlessly as he sat down and both doors closed at the same moment.

‘What?' she said.

‘Mrs Harrison has this system where she keeps every bit of paper that passes through her business!'

‘And?'

‘She had an arrangement with the taxi firm. She displayed their cards and every ride they picked up from
the B and B they gave her a percentage. So, every three months she got a printout from them of the rides from the B and B and the destinations.'

‘We already know the destination,' Rose said, feeling a need to dampen down Joshua's enthusiasm. She had seen on the previous Tuesday how that had turned to despair.

‘But when the taxi is booked for Heathrow they always ask upfront which terminal, which flight and the time of the flight. Just so that they can gauge the time it takes to get there and so on.'

Rose glanced out of the window at the house across the street. She could hear Joshua talking but she refused to join in with his excitement.

‘So, on the printout, it tells us that on the morning of the fifth of November Kate and Dan Brewster picked up a taxi at 7.30 for Heathrow Terminal Two for a flight to Warsaw at 11.30. The cost of the taxi was thirty-two pounds of which Mrs Harrison got three pounds twenty-two, five per cent.'

‘Warsaw?' Rose said.

‘I don't think this is to do with organised crime at all. I think it's about security. I think they were working undercover for something to do with national security.'

Rose couldn't trust herself to speak.
So what? So what? So what, they're dead anyway. Does it matter why or how?

‘That's good, isn't it, Rose? That we're beginning to piece it together?'

What about the other night
? she wanted to say.
When you said ‘I hope they are dead.'

‘National security, I think. Skeggsie and me, we can continue the search.'

‘But once they stepped off that plane in Warsaw? Doesn't the trail end there?' she said.

‘No!' Joshua said. ‘We can set up websites in Polish. Maybe we'll be lucky and find someone who knew them, saw them. We have pictures we can put on the web. Remember how we got lucky with Valeriya Malashenko?'

Skeggsie started the car.

‘Wait!' Rose said, dismayed at Joshua's plans. ‘There's something I need you to help me with before we go.'

Joshua looked round, puzzled. Skeggsie put the handbrake back on but kept the engine running.

‘I want you to go across to that house with the green door and ring the bell for the downstairs flat. If no one answers, ring the other bell. You can make up some excuse like you're looking for a room to let or something.'

‘Why?'

‘It's a long story but I think it might be the technician from my school. You remember I said I saw him round here? He's gone missing and Henry, my policeman friend, thinks he might know something about the murder at
Parkway East. I don't want to say that he is here unless I'm completely sure.'

‘How will I know if it's him? I've never seen him.'

‘I'll know. I'll be nearby. I'll stand behind that tree over there on the pavement. If it's him I won't move. If it's not him I'll come forward and ask if he knows Frank Palmer. Maybe he's a friend or something.'

‘Sounds a bit dodgy,' Skeggsie said, turning the engine off.

‘It will only take a minute.'

‘Why don't you just tell the policeman what you saw?'

‘I don't want to. I can't explain why. It's just a small favour. Please?'

Joshua opened the passenger door. Rose got out of the back seat and followed him across the road and stood by the tree. He gave her a look of pained forbearance and for a second she wanted to punch him in the face. Then he got back in the car without a word. Rose pushed her annoyance down and followed Joshua across the road and stood by the tree. Joshua went up to the front door. He looked round at her once before he rang the bell. Rose stood back. The green door stayed shut.

Josh rang the bell again. Rose could hear it, loud and insistent.

Was no one in?

The door opened a moment later and Rose heard a man's voice. She peeked out. It was Frank Palmer. She
pulled her head back, not wanting to be seen. She could hear Joshua talking to him.

‘Excuse me, there was this advert. Down at the newsagent's? On a card? In the window? It gave this number and said that you had rooms to rent?'

‘No, mate. No rooms for rent here.'

‘That's odd, maybe I read it wrong.'

‘Yeah, you read it wrong.'

‘Do you know any other houses round here that have rooms to rent?'

‘Sorry, mate. Look in the local paper.'

‘Will do. Sorry to have bothered you.'

Joshua's voice was moving closer to Rose as if he was backing away from the door. He passed the tree and continued on across the traffic until he got to the car. Rose was waiting to hear the front door shut before she moved off. There was no sound of it closing, though, and she stood impatiently as Joshua got back to the Mini. He opened the passenger door and pulled the seat forward and climbed into the back of the car.

The door of the house finally closed. She heard it bang and she quickly walked out from behind the tree and headed across the road towards the car. She got into the passenger seat and looked over at the house again. She'd been right. Frank Palmer did live there. As soon as they got back to Camden she would make the anonymous phone call. She looked round at Joshua to thank him.

He had a funny look on his face, though.

‘What's up?' she said.

‘You all right?' Skeggsie said.