The Dead Tracks (9 page)

    I
placed my pad down on the table between us and flipped it open. She looked down
at it, back at me and nodded, seeing I was ready to start.

    'Maybe
you could tell me about those last few weeks.'

    She paused,
shrugged. 'I'm not sure there's a lot to tell. Jim was on a job up in Enfield,
at a new contract there, so I took Meg into school for most of that last
fortnight. Certainly the morning she disappeared.'

    'She
seemed all right to you that day?'

    'Yes,'
she said. 'perfectly fine. She was always such a positive force. I'm not sure
where she got it from, because both Jim and I can be a bit… well,
temperamental, I suppose.' She smiled a little — a proper smile for the first
time since I'd met her. Then it vanished again. 'That was why she was such a
good student, I think. She just maintained an even keel the whole time. Never
got over-excited or depressed. She was just an amazing girl.'

    'What
can you tell me about Charles Bryant?'

    Caroline
glanced at me. I wasn't sure whether she was telling me she never liked him, or
was surprised I had brought him up in the first place.

    'Megan
dated him for a while.'

    'Did
you meet him?'

    'Only
once.'

    'How
long did they go out for?'

    'Not
long. Maybe two or three months.'

    'What
was he like?'

    She
shrugged. 'He seemed okay. It was a tough time for him.'

    'Megan
didn't love him?'

    'Definitely
not,' she said, shaking her head. 'I think that was the problem. She went out with
him because she felt sorry for him. Felt sorry that he had lost his mother like
that. And also because she was a good person. She looked at him and saw that he
needed someone to help him through the grieving process.'

    'How
did he take the split?'

    'What
do you mean?'

    I
looked at her. She wasn't playing ball with me, even though she could see where
I was trying to drive the conversation. Perhaps the idea of her daughter dating
someone wasn't one she liked to think about, especially if it had somehow
initiated her disappearance. 'I mean, I'm trying to work the angles here,' I
said to her.

    'He
was upset.'

    'Did
he try to talk her round?'

    'Not
really. I think, in his heart of hearts, he knew the relationship wasn't built
to last. He knew why Meg was around for him. He definitely had a thing for her,
a very strong affection, but he seemed a level-headed boy. I think…' She
paused, looked at me. 'I think if you're heading down that road with Charlie
Bryant in mind… well, it's the wrong direction.'

    'The
police talked to him?'

    'Yes.
I think they had a similar theory to you.'

    'Did
she start seeing anyone else after that?'

    A
slight hesitation. 'No,' she said, but didn't look at me.

    'Jim
and I talked to her about it and suggested it might be better if she
concentrated on her studies. She was three good grades away from getting a
place at Cambridge. That was worth a little sacrifice.'

    I
nodded, but didn't write anything down.

    Something
was definitely up.

    'What
about the names Anthony Grant, or A. J. Grant — do they mean anything?'

    She
shook her head. 'No.'

    I
reached into my pocket and took out a printout of the photograph I'd found on
Megan's camera. I'd blown it up on the computer.

    'Do
you recognize this photo?'

    She
took the printout. 'Yes. It's on her camera.'

    'Right.
Any idea where she is there?'

    She
brought the picture in closer to her. 'No. I remember this is one of the photos
we looked at right back at the start, because Jamie Hart asked us the same
thing.'

    'Did
he find anything out?'

    'No.
The police went through all her photos, all her friends' photos, everything
they could lay their hands on.' She paused, a flash of a tear in one of her
eyes. 'But they got nowhere.'

    'So they
never found out who took this one?'

    She
glanced at the photo again, then back up. 'No. Why?'

    'Don't
you think her face looks different there?'

    'Her
face?'

    I
pointed to Megan. 'Her smile.'

    'In
what way?'

    'I
don't know. You know her best. But this smile, and the smile in some of the
other photos… they seem different to me.'

    'Different
how?'

    I
shrugged. 'I'm not sure. Maybe it's nothing. I just think it would be helpful
to find out who took this, that's all.'

    Something
passed across her face.

    'Are
you okay?' I asked.

    She
frowned at me. 'Of course. Why?'

    
Because
something’s up with you.
You just seem a little… distracted, I guess.'

    'I'm
fine.'

    I let
it go. 'Just backtracking for a second, she definitely never made mention of
being in any relationship
after
Charles Bryant?'

    Another
small hesitation.

    'Caroline?'

    'No.'

    'She
never made mention of one?'

    Movement
in her eyes. 'No, she definitely -'

    'Caroline.'

    She stopped.
Looked at me.

    'Do
you want your daughter found?'

    'Of
course.
What sort of question is that?'

    I
glanced at a photograph of Megan, in a frame on a small glass table at the end of
one of the sofas. 'I'm just asking because I get the feeling I might be missing
something here.'

    'What
do you mean?'

    'I
mean, I'm not sure you're being totally honest with me. I need you to tell me
everything.
Even if it's just a suspicion, a hunch.'

    She
paused, looked down at my pad, then dabbed a finger against her eye. If I was
wrong, I'd have to apologize to her - but I had to be sure. I couldn't be
working the case if one of the two people in the world who knew Megan the best
wasn't prepared to give me everything she had.

    Finally,
after what seemed like minutes, Caroline looked up, sadness and disappointment
in her eyes. She turned and faced the photograph of Megan I had been looking at
a few moments before. Then, determination back in her voice, she said quietly,
'I think you should leave now.'

    By
the time I got home it was almost dark. Autumn was moving in quickly now: once
the sun faded from the sky, the night washed in and the temperature went with
it. I put the football on in the living room, then turned the radio on in the kitchen.
One of the things you dread the most when you've been left on your own is the
silence.

    After
showering, I went through to the kitchen and started preparing some dinner,
emptying a packet of stir- fry vegetables into a wok along with some sliced
chicken. As I watched it brown, I kept coming back to Caroline Carver. I
couldn't shake the feeling that she was holding something back. Even if I
couldn't read her as clearly as I would have liked, I knew I wasn't mistaken.
Something sat there between us, just as it had the first time we'd met at the
restaurant. A secret. A half-truth. A lie. Something.

    I was
sitting down in front of the TV, twenty minutes into the match, when my phone
started buzzing. I set the plate aside and hit Answer.

    It
was James Carver.

    'Caroline
told me about what you accused her of today,' he said, cutting to the chase.
'You think she would hold back something important? You
seriously
think
she would do that? What planet are you on?'

    'Hold
on a min-'

    'No,
you
hold on a minute.' He lowered his voice. He must have been in another
room, trying to keep the conversation away from her. 'Don't
ever
accuse
my wife of trying to get in the way of finding Meg'

    'I
didn't accuse her of —'

    'Don't
tell me you didn't. I
know
you did. I'm paying you to be an
investigator, not some amateur-hour psychologist.'

    'Just
let me explain.'

    'You
really
believe Caroline doesn’t want her found?'

    'Of
course not.'

    'Then
what the hell are you playing at?'

    I
paused, let him calm down for a moment. 'She seemed hesitant.'

    'About
what?'

    'About
everything'

    'Our
daughter has been missing
six months.
You know what that's like? You
know what that Does to you? No, you don't. You've got no idea.'

    I didn't
reply. Let him feel like he'd had his victory.

    'Are
you going to apologize?'

    'Listen,
James… I don't know either of you well, but I went with a gut reaction and if
it turns out to be wrong, then I'll apologize.'

    'You
insulted
her. Do you understand what I'm telling you?'

    'It
won't happen again.'

    'No,
it won't.' He cleared his throat. 'I think we should call it a day.'

    'What
are you talking about?'

    'I
want you off this. We entrusted you with the most precious thing in our life,
gave you money, all you'd need to get the job done. But you've destroyed my
confidence in you, David. And you've insulted my wife. I won't have that. I
won't have you speak to her like that.'

    'This
is ridiculous.'

    'Put
Megan's things in an envelope and mail them to us. Whatever you have found out
so far, please put it down on paper and include that too. The last thing
Caroline needs now is to see you at the house again. I will pay you for the
three days you have done, and an extra day as a goodwill gesture. Not that you
deserve any goodwill from us.'

    'Don't
you think this is a little extreme?'

    He
hung up.

    At 2
a.m., something woke me. For a moment, the noise was distant and distorted,
just a sound on the edge of my sleep. Then, when I opened my eyes, I saw my
mobile was gently vibrating on the bedside cabinet. I reached over and scooped
it up.

    'Hello?'

    'David?'

    I
rubbed an eye. 'Yes.'

    'It's
Jill.'

    It
took me a couple of seconds to realize it was Jill from the support group.

    'I'm
so sorry to call you like this.'

    'Uh…'I
looked at the clock again.
She really is calling me at two o'clock in the
morning.
'Uh, no problem.'

    'I
tried Aron, but he's not answering. I think he's away with work tonight. I
tried a police friend of Frank's too, but he's not answering either. I didn't
know who else to call. I guess I just thought, because of your job, you might
know what to… to, uh…'

    I sat
up in bed, still feeling a little woozy. 'Are you okay?'

    'I'm
so sorry to wake you.'

    'No,
no - don't worry.'

    'It's
just… I don't know who else to…'

    'Really,'
I said, flicking on a bedside lamp, my brain working over the reasons she might
be calling, 'don't worry. What's the matter?'