The Jonah (14 page)

He stopped cutting and laid his knife and fork down. ‘Go ahead.’

She hesitated, then plunged straight in. ‘When I was being briefed on this job, I made some of my own enquiries. About you.’

He picked up his knife and fork again and resumed cutting. She was undeterred.

‘A friend on the Force told me you had something of a reputation.’

‘Let’s drop it, Ellie.’

‘Don’t be angry. I just want to find out if that’s the reason you wanted me off this investigation. Whether it’s that or it’s just because I’m a woman and not
up to your standards.’

‘Your friend told you I’m a jinx. A Jonah, I think the popular word is.’

‘He said a few of the operations you were involved in had ended badly.’

‘Only a few? Yes, I suppose there were only a few; but that’s all it takes for people to believe that you’re bad news. Why do you think I got transferred to this detail? My
last op – a security van blag – got fouled up. A policeman was shot, killed, and he was only a driver.’

‘But that could hardly have been your fault.’

‘It was, though. I had the gunman in my sights; I could have stopped him using his shotgun. My gun jammed and the driver was wasted.’

‘How can you blame . . .?’

‘I know. It was the gun’s fault, not mine. But other things have happened; this was just another piece of bad luck in a chain of unfortunate incidents.’

‘This is silly, Jim. Do you think it could happen again? Is that what’s worrying you?’

‘Why should it stop now? It’s dogged me all my life.’

‘You’re not serious. You can’t really believe . . .’

‘Ellie, I know certain things happen around me. Things that are inexplicable, bad things that defy logic. I just don’t want anybody else to get hurt.’

‘I’ve never heard such self-indulgent nonsense in all my life.’ She felt angry, but her voice was restrained. ‘Just because you’ve run into bad luck now and again,
it’s no reason to wallow in self-pity and imagine you’re the cause of other people’s mishaps.’

‘I’m not wallowing in self-pity!’

‘You listen to me!’ Her glass thumped down on the table and heads were turned in their direction. ‘You listen to me,’ Ellie repeated, her voice softer, but still as
harsh. ‘There is no such thing as a jinx, or a Jonah. It’s something people have invented to suit their own tiny minds, something that helps them put troubles and misfortunes into tidy
little boxes. It’s in the same league as curses and spells and witchcraft and ghouls. It has nothing to do with real life, Jim!’

‘You don’t understand. You don’t know what’s happened in the past.’

‘So tell me. Maybe I can make some sense of it.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think anyone can do that.’

Suddenly, she wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold him close and tell him the only thing to fear was himself, that destructive part of his mind which made him believe he was cursed. Then
she was holding his hand and his eyes were confused; for the briefest of moments – and she might have been mistaken – she felt pressure on her own hand as he squeezed it tight, but then
he was withdrawing, pulling his hand free, picking up the fallen fork once more.

‘Okay,’ she said, emotion slowly draining away. ‘Let’s forget about it. I’d hate to intrude on your self-made misery. We’ve got a job to do, so let’s
just get on with it. No pocketbook Freud from me, no quirky misapprehensions from you. Strictly business, forget anything personal. Does that suit you?’

‘Ellie, I . . .’

‘Does it?’

‘All right.’ He began eating again and Ellie attacked her own food, not understanding the resentment she felt, the anger seething inside her. Disliking the feeling of rejection.

The rest of the meal was eaten in moody silence, save for the few formal courtesies of dining etiquette, and by the time coffee had arrived, Ellie was already beginning to regret her insistence
on bringing up the subject. She hadn’t meant to upset him, hadn’t meant to upset herself. They worked well together, they might even achieve some results on this case. And there was
something about him . . . she bit down on her lower lip. For Christ’s sake, Ellie, shut up and drink up! She finished the coffee and picked up the bill that had been left on the side of the
table. It had crossed her mind to slip the money to him beneath the table, but she decided he would not have been at all embarrassed by her paying. She was right, he wasn’t. He was too
preoccupied with his own brooding thoughts.

They left the restaurant and drove back towards the town, the car’s headlights cutting through the darkness like wide-beamed lasers through solid matter. When they reached the empty
streets of the town he turned right towards the high street, away from the caravan site. ‘I thought we’d have another look in the pub – maybe Trewick will be there
tonight.’

Ellie said nothing, still a little perplexed by her own feelings.

The bar was crowded, the thick smoke rushing towards the door like swirling fog when they walked in. Kelso quickly and surreptitiously scanned the faces and was disappointed once more not to
find Trewick’s among them. It was strange, for up until last night, the young bearded fisherman was a regular patron of the pub; Kelso had seen him there on most of his visits. He wondered if
Trewick had been absent from work again that day.

Ellie quickly moved to a vacant seat she had spotted while Kelso pushed his way up to the bar. He leaned against it and waved a pound note in the air to attract the barman’s attention,
when he caught sight of a familiar face at the end of the counter.

It was Tom Adcock, skipper of the
Rosie,
and he sat staring down at his pint of bitter as though it contained the troubles of the world.

Ellie was puzzled to see Kelso winding his way through the crowd once more, heading towards the end of the bar. He stopped by a bulky-looking man with grey whiskers, a mean-looking individual
who sat alone with both elbows on the counter, a sullen expression on his face.

‘Just fuck off and leave me alone,’ Adcock growled, then took a long swig of his beer.

‘I only asked you if you’d like another drink,’ Kelso said patiently.

‘Why would you be buying me a drink?’

‘No reason. It was just that we’d chatted yesterday and tonight you look as though you needed cheering up.’

‘Well, I don’t. Not by you, anyway.’

‘Okay, fair enough.’

The barman had reached Kelso by then. ‘Usual, is it?’

‘Please. And a scotch and soda.’ He turned once more to Adcock. ‘Sure you won’t have one?’

A low growling noise was the only reply he got. The barman winked at Kelso and turned away, walking down to the pumps.

Kelso was almost afraid to ask but he knew he had to. ‘I, um . . . you haven’t seen Andy today, have you?’

The silence was as unsettling as the growling. Adcock slowly swivelled his head towards the detective and fixed him with his glare. ‘Why are you so fuckin interested in Andy? What’s
he to you?’

‘I told you yesterday: we were going to have a drink together.’

‘Well, he’s not around. Not likely to be, neither.’

‘What d’you mean?’

The fisherman ignored him and drained his glass in one mighty swallow. He slammed it down on the counter and bellowed, ‘Let’s have another one in there, Ron.’

The barman waved an acknowledgement and continued drawing Kelso’s bitter.

‘Where’s Andy got to?’ Kelso persisted.

‘Away. Now fuck off and leave me alone, you snoopy little bastid. Likes of you got Andy into trouble.’

‘What kind of trouble?’

Kelso felt his knees go weak as the fisherman slowly rose from the stool and towered over him. ‘I didn’t say nothing about no trouble. You just keep on, boy, and you’ll find my
fist down the back of your throat. Now get out of my way.’ He pushed past Kelso, who staggered back against the bar, then thrust his way through the crowd, the more observant and wiser
drinkers stepping back from his path.

Kelso turned as the barman placed the drinks he had ordered on the bar top. ‘Doesn’t take much to upset old Tom, does it?’ the detective remarked, feeling a little shaken.

The barman chuckled and plucked the pound note from Kelso’s hand. ‘He’s been in here all evening drinking himself silly. I don’t know what gets into him
sometimes.’

Kelso took the drinks over to Ellie’s table, not before he had gulped down some of the beer, though.

‘What was that all about?’ she asked as he slid onto the bench next to her. ‘I thought he was going to eat you.’

‘He didn’t like my smooth manner.’ Kelso drank more of the bitter and felt his nerves beginning to calm down a little. ‘Come to think of it, I didn’t go much on
his,’ he said.

‘Who was he?’

‘Trewick’s skipper. And he said Andy isn’t around any more.’

‘What did he mean by
that?’

‘He felt disinclined to explain.’ Kelso frowned and put his glass down on the table. ‘Strange, though. He got really upset when I asked about Trewick. Said I was the sort who
got him into trouble. He’d ordered another beer, too, but didn’t wait for it.’

‘You think this Trewick has done something to upset him?’

‘Well, maybe he’s just skipped off for a couple of days and the old man feels let down.’

‘Or he’s got himself into trouble and his skipper’s keeping quiet about it.’

‘Could be. I’d like to know just what he’s been up to, though. It might be interesting.’

They both sipped their drinks, then Kelso took Ellie by surprise by moving closer to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. She looked quizzically at him.

‘We’re supposed to be in love, remember?’ There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘They should have sent someone less attractive; you draw too much
attention.’

The stares and winks in her direction had not entirely gone unnoticed by Ellie. She kissed his cheek. ‘Just to make it look good,’ she explained.

He surprised her again by returning the kiss. ‘That was because I felt like it,’ he said.

Ellie gave a tiny shake of her head. ‘You’re a strange one, Jim. You change moods so fast.’

‘I’m sorry about earlier. I know I’m difficult at times, but I promise you, there is some truth in what I told you.’

‘Do you want to talk about it now?’

He paused and she knew he was trying to decide in his own mind. Finally he said, ‘No, Ellie. I think we should do as you said, keep this on a professional basis. If it’s any use to
you, I think you’re good at your job. And I also like your company.’

She smiled. ‘Okay, you’re the boss. What happens next?’

‘I feel kind of beat. Let’s relax and enjoy our drinks for a while, then we’ll take another look at the harbour. There’s something drawing me to that place like a bloody
magnet, but I don’t know what. Somehow I feel the answer is there, staring us in the face.’

Ellie frowned. ‘I know what you mean – I have the same feeling. Maybe whoever lives in that – what was it called? The Martello Tower? – maybe they’ve seen something
suspicious going on. They’d have a clear view of the estuary and harbour; they can even see a good stretch of the coastline from there.’

‘I’m not sure there’s anyone in residence at the moment. Anyway, we can hardly knock them up this late, and even if we did, what could we say? I don’t think they’d
welcome questions on birdlife at this time of night.’

‘True, but we could take a look, see what they’re able to see. It might give us some ideas.’

Kelso refrained from telling her he had spent hours along that point and had found nothing to arouse his suspicions; instead he agreed they should take a look and then turn in. He was suddenly
aware that having Ellie in the caravan with him tonight would be even more disturbing than on previous nights.

They continued chatting, keeping their conversation light and away from their investigation, discussing any topic that came into their heads. She enjoyed his quiet but wry sense of humour; and
he enjoyed her appreciation of his quiet but wry sense of humour; she was an enthusiastic listener, with a ready laugh and, although there was still some reserve on his part, her natural affability
was beginning to bridge the distance between them. Ellie now understood why he was a good undercover man, for he had a toughness about him – not obvious at first – that had to be
respected, and a casual manner that must have made it easy for him to be accepted by members of the criminal fraternity. It was a pity that past misfortunes, exaggerated or perhaps exploited by
others, forced him to back away so often, to hide behind a barrier of aloofness. The silly stigma that he had been labelled with – and one in which he seemed to believe himself – was
enough to make anybody moody.

They left the pub half an hour later, both feeling more relaxed than when they had entered. Kelso held the Escort’s door open for Ellie. She watched him through the windscreen as he walked
around to the driver’s side, his shoulders hunched against the light drizzle that had started, longish dark hair flowing over his upturned jacket collar, and smiled when he hand-leapt over
the corner of the bonnet rather than walk around it. She was glad, at least, that he had broken out of the earlier sullen mood.

Kelso got into the car and switched on the ignition. He caught her studying him.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Right.’

The car moved slowly away from the kerb, heading down the high street towards the harbour. Neither Ellie nor Kelso had noticed the car parked further along the road and the three men inside who
had watched with silent interest as they had left the pub. It was only when Kelso’s Escort was some distance away that the car moved out and began to follow.