Читать книгу The Runaway - Ali Harper - Страница 10

We stayed in The Brudenell till closing time. Martin had booked himself a couple of nights in a B&B on Cardigan Road in order to watch the cricket. As Jo tried to wheedle another round out of the barman I noticed the skin on my forearms was scratched red and tugged my sleeves down. Once the barman had convinced Jo there wasn’t going to be any after hours, we poured Martin into a taxi from the rank opposite and I linked arms with Jo as we waved him off, Jo swaying as I held onto her. When the taxi turned the corner, I half-pulled, half-pushed her up the hill towards our flat on Hyde Park Road.

She stumbled over the kerb on Royal Park Mount and fell on her arse. I tried to pull her up, but Jo found it too hilarious for words and I gave up and sat next to her at the roadside. We shared a fag, which got so damp from the tears streaming down her face I had to light another. I put my arm around her shoulders and her body warmth seeped into me. Must have looked like a right pair. Just as I thought she’d fallen asleep and I’d have to roll her up the hill, she clambered to her feet.

‘Chris Goodall.’

‘Who?’

‘The bloke from The Wranglers.’

‘Right.’ I had no idea what she was talking about, and I’m not sure she did either.

‘The one who went out with Gabby Fairweather. After she finished with Jimmy McFly.’

I nodded.

‘Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.’ She took a moment to steady herself and then set off at such a pace that I had to jog to keep up with her.

When we got to the flat, I let us in as quietly as possible so as not to disturb our downstairs neighbour, who happens to be the only full-time worker within about a two-mile radius. She hates us and our unsociable hours. I went into the kitchen to put the kettle on while Jo crashed into the front room. When I joined her with a freshly brewed pot of tea – milk in a jug, just how she likes it – she was out cold on the settee with her Doc Martens still on. I put the tray down, untied her laces, tugged the boots off her feet and fetched the duvet from her bed. I floated it over her body. She looks different asleep, less fierce, her face softer, unlined.

She didn’t stir so I took the crumpled Rizlas, the tobacco tin and the tea tray upstairs. My bedroom is in the attic, a bolthole from the hustle of the streets. My bed nestles in the space beneath the dormer, and the garret window looks out over the treetops of Hyde Park. Here I can convince myself that I’m not in the city, that there’s clean air and a world of space. I lay half-propped on my pillows, trying to memorize the star constellations. I made a spliff, but my heart wasn’t in it and I stubbed it out before I was halfway done. A line from an old Billy Bragg song looped in my head. It’s never the same after the first time, but it doesn’t stop you coming back for more.

The next thing I knew the alarm clock glowed out 4:03 a.m. I lay in bed feeling unsettled and trying to remember my dream, but it floated just outside my grasp, leaving me worried but without knowing why. I’d fallen asleep without closing the curtain and when I saw the first trace of dawn across the park, I pulled on a pair of denim cut-offs and my T-shirt and went downstairs.

Jo was still comatose on the settee, so I opened the front room curtains, knowing that before long the sun would be beaming down through the tall sash windows. Jo grunted and turned away.

I laced my trainers on the bottom stair, shoved a jacket and notebook in my backpack, then jogged, slowly, my usual two laps round the park. I intended to stop there, then walk round the corner to the office and pick up the van, but the sun was breaking through the red clouds, and I got into my stride and decided to run down into Woodhouse and then up The Ridge to Headingley. Leeds 6 doesn’t really stir much before lunchtime and I live for these glimpses, the moments when I’m the only one awake.

By the time I got to Headingley sweat dripped from my forehead, but the voices had gone. It was almost eight, so I sat on the brick wall of a flowerbed until Sainsbury’s opened, bought a bottle of water and made my way through the empty streets to The Turnways.

As I got close to number 24 I saw the curtains were still open and the house looked just the same as it had the previous day. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps it wasn’t just Matt that had done a disappearing act. I walked up the path, hammered on the door and jumped when it opened straightaway.

‘Yes?’ said a young woman in a round-necked striped jumper. She had mid-calf-length boots on and I had the impression she was about to go out. I felt underdressed next to her, in my T-shirt and knee-length shorts. I wished I’d put my jacket on before knocking on the door.

‘Sorry to bother you,’ I said. ‘Is Matt in?’

She frowned. ‘Who are you?’

I wasn’t used to doing this without Jo and it reminded me how much I rely on her, especially to break the ice. ‘I’m Lee, Lee Winters. I’m a private detective.’ It sounded stupid to my ears, but I persevered. ‘Investigator. I run a missing persons’ bureau. We’re … I mean, I’m looking for Matt.’

‘Oh,’ she said. Her forehead creased and she paused for a moment. ‘You mean someone hired you? Someone hired you to find Matt?’

‘Is he in?’ I straightened my spine, adjusted the weight on my feet so I grew a couple of centimetres.

‘No. No, he’s not here. Haven’t seen him since last week. I don’t know where he is.’

‘Can I come in?’

She checked the time on her watch. ‘I’ve got lectures.’

Not at eight fifteen in the morning, she didn’t. I might not have spent that long in higher education, but long enough to learn the basics. I took a step forward. She held her ground and so we stood too close to each other, so close I could smell the mint of her toothpaste.

‘It won’t take long,’ I said.

She hesitated. I knew she didn’t want to talk to me but I guessed she was too polite to say. ‘I said we should have reported it,’ she said, ‘but Tuff thinks he’s holed up somewhere. He’s about to submit his dissertation.’

‘Tuff?’

‘No. I meant Matt’s about to submit his dissertation.’

I was having difficulty keeping up with the conversation. ‘Who’s Tuff?’

‘My flatmate. Matt’s best friend.’

I went for it, taking another bite out of the distance between us, and this time she stepped back which allowed me to move inside, into the hallway. I swung the backpack off my shoulders. ‘I’m going to need to take notes.’ I opened the drawstring and pulled out my notebook. ‘You got somewhere we could sit?’

‘I guess. Front room.’ She pointed to the first door on the right.

‘I’m Lee,’ I said again. ‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Someone’s hired you to find Matt?’ She emphasized the word hired, and I read it to mean paid.

‘Yeah.’ I followed her into the front room, which was neat and tidy by student standards. The coffee table had a pile of textbooks on it, a picture of a microscope on the front of the top one. I took a seat in the armchair and turned to a clean page in my notebook. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Who?’

‘What?’

‘Who hired you to find him?’

I cleared my throat. ‘I can’t tell you. It’s against—’

‘Nikki,’ she said. She shook her head and stared right at me. ‘I’m guessing the police told her to fuck off?’

‘I’m not at liberty—’

‘She’s nuts.’

I gestured at the chair opposite me, trying to indicate she should take a seat. She didn’t comply, choosing instead to stay standing by the door. ‘She’s nuts?’ I wrote the word nuts in my notebook, looked up at her again. ‘Like you mean she has a mental health issue?’

She stood with her back to the wall. ‘She’s nuts about Matt.’

‘Maybe she’s worried? I mean, you said yourself you don’t know where he is.’

She picked at her fingernail. ‘Matt has that effect on women.’

I saw where this one was going. I offered up my usual silent prayer of thanks that I’d put all that behind me. I’m not quite a virgin, but it’s been so long I might as well be. It’s better that way. Me and men, me and relationships, it’s just not my strong point. Play to your strengths, someone once told me. I tried to keep the knowing tone from my voice. ‘How long you lived with him?’

I failed.

She swiped her dark fringe back with one hand so that she could see to stare at me. ‘We share a house.’

‘Why don’t you take a seat?’

She pointed a finger at me. ‘I’ve never, ever thought about him that way. Which is probably why this houseshare thing works.’ She stepped forward and moved the pile of books out of my way so I could put my notebook on the coffee table. ‘This is our second year. They’re both all right, mostly.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Well, you know, I’ve had to break it to them that the cleaning fairy doesn’t exist. And Matt spends more time in the bathroom than any woman I’ve ever met, but apart from that, it’s OK.’

‘How old is Matt?’

‘Twenty-three.’

‘And he’s an MA student?’

‘MSc.’

‘And, sorry, I don’t know your name?’

‘Jan.’

I wrote that down. ‘When did you last see him, Jan?’

‘I’m sure Nikki’s told you.’

I opted for flattery. ‘It would be great to hear it from you. Just to make sure I’ve got my facts straight.’ I grinned at her. Aunt Edie’s always saying I’ve got a nice smile and I should use it more.

Jan took a breath, released it slowly. ‘I was away for the weekend. Went back home to see my parents.’

‘When?’

‘Last Friday.’

‘Where?’

‘York, well, just outside. All I know is Matt and Tuff went to a party – on Saturday night. These outdoor parties – you know?’

I shook my head. ‘I’ve heard of them but thought they’d got rid of them back in the nineties. They’re illegal now, right?’

‘I don’t know much about it.’ She finally lowered herself into the chair opposite me and rubbed at an imaginary spot on her jeans. ‘Sounds like a bunch of hippies, taking drugs and dancing till sunrise, but Nikki’s got them into it. Tuff came back on Sunday, about lunchtime, he said – I wasn’t back. He said Matt stayed.’

‘When did you get back?’

‘Teatime. I was hoping to get some work done. Fat chance. Nikki came round, twice, looking for Matt.’

‘Sunday evening?’

She nodded.

‘What did,’ I checked my notes, ‘Tuff say had happened to Matt?’

‘I didn’t see Tuff till Monday.’

‘He got back Sunday lunchtime, you said?’

‘Yes, but he’d gone out again by the time I got here. And I was in bed by the time he came home. I didn’t see him till Monday.’

‘And?’

‘And he said he came back Sunday lunchtime and Matt had decided to stay at the party.’

‘Did he say anything else?’

‘Not really. Nikki came round again, screaming that she’s going to call the police. Like I’m personally responsible for the fact that her boyfriend’s not here.’

‘Must be hard for her —’

‘Matt’s problem is he’s too pretty. He’s got too many options.’

‘You mean – there’s someone else?’

‘I wouldn’t blame him, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘You really don’t like Nikki.’ It wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact. I probably sounded peeved. I hate women doing other women down, especially over a man.

‘I don’t not like her. I just wish … Oh I don’t know.’ She stood up. ‘Tuff’s right. Matt’s probably holed up, writing up his dissertation.’

‘His tutor says he should have just about finished it.’

‘I think that’s probably being optimistic.’

‘Have you rung his parents?’

‘Tuff’s known Matt the longest.’

‘Where is Tuff?’

‘He’ll be at uni by now.’

I frowned and glanced at the clock on the wall above the fireplace. ‘Bit early.’

‘Yeah, well.’ She smiled for the first time and I had the sense that she felt better for talking to me. ‘They’re both feeling the pressure. And the library opens at 8.’ She paused a moment, drew a breath. ‘It is weird.’

I thought she meant the library. ‘Weird?’

‘Tuff’s, well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the stress.’

‘Tuff’s what? What were you going to say?’

She didn’t answer me, was lost in her own thoughts. ‘If Matt’d taken his laptop with him, I’d agree he’s holed up somewhere, ignoring Nikki and trying to get his dissertation finished. But he went missing at a party.’

‘Could he have come home on the Sunday? If Tuff was out and you were out? Maybe he picked up his stuff?’

‘Maybe. I did have a look in his room, but it’s impossible to tell. I’d have thought he’d have left a note though if he’d done that. Unless he didn’t trust us not to tell Nikki. That’s the only thing I can think of – he wants to disappear till he gets it in.’

‘How long’s he got?’

‘It’s due Monday.’

‘And you don’t think you should ring his parents?’

‘He did disappear before you know.’

‘Disappear?’

‘Well, took off for a few days. Never said where he’d gone or anything.’

‘Did you ever find out where he went?’

She shook her head. ‘That was before Nikki.’

‘What’s their relationship like?’

Jan pulled a face. ‘Nikki knows Matt’s out of her league – that’s what’s driving her mental.’

‘He must like her. They’ve been going out together for nearly a year,’ I said.

‘Yeah.’ She shrugged her shoulders like she was genuinely bemused by the whole thing.

‘Is there someone else?’ I asked again.

She hesitated and I knew she was searching her conscience. I leaned closer to her. ‘We’re just trying to make sure he’s OK,’ I said. ‘We’re not looking to get him into trouble.’

‘Last night, I got a few phone calls where the phone was silent every time I picked it up. I don’t know whether it was Nikki, or just …’

Jan’s gaze had fixed on the window. She stood up and crossed the room and stared out into the street. I couldn’t see what had caught her interest. She swore under her breath and it sounded like a gust of wind.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘That’s Matt’s car.’

I got up and peered out of the bay window in the direction she pointed, followed her gaze to the burgundy Volkswagen Polo parked a few hundred yards further down the street. I hadn’t noticed it on my way there, but I’d come from the other direction.

Jan turned and ran from the room. I followed her, through the front door back into the street. I wondered how I’d not noticed it earlier, but I’d been focused on the house, and a car with a smashed window isn’t that much of an unusual occurrence in Leeds 6. As I got closer though, I realized it wasn’t just a smashed window. In fact there wasn’t a single pane of glass intact – front and rear windscreen, every window, shattered. Another couple of steps and I realized the headlights and taillights were destroyed as well. The shards crunched under my feet.

‘Shit,’ said Jan again.

‘Vandals?’ I said.

Jan looked up and down the street. ‘Why just his car?’

She had a point. There were other, more attractive cars parked along the street. ‘Which is Tuff’s?’ I asked.

‘Tuff doesn’t have a car.’

‘Oh. How did he get back from the party?’

‘Should I ring the police?’

‘He must have come back in a car. The party was in Lincolnshire.’

Jan stood blinking at the Volkswagen like she was willing the glass back into the panes. I looped around it and tried to read the message it sent. Anger. Raw, unchannelled anger, you could smell it. Every single body panel was dented, same for the bonnet. It looked like it had been attacked with a baseball bat.

‘Didn’t you hear anything?’

‘You don’t think Nikki …?’ Jan’s voice tailed off.

I frowned as I considered the idea, but it didn’t add up. ‘Don’t think so. I mean she’s worried, but she didn’t strike me as angry. Least, not this angry.’

‘What should I do?’ Jan turned to me and I realized she’d got worried for the first time.

‘Phone the police. Report it.’

‘And tell them Matt’s missing?’

I still find it difficult to think of the police as anything other than the enemy. Too much soft drug consumption. That’s my soft drug consumption, not theirs. But I remembered the roasting we’d got from not involving them earlier in our last case. ‘Don’t think you’ve got a choice,’ I said. I peered in through the driver’s window. Or the space where the window once was. ‘Radio’s still there. Doesn’t look like anything’s been stolen.’ The glove box was closed. I pulled my head back out. ‘Is Tuff insured? To drive it?’

‘I’m not dealing with this,’ Jan said. She held up her hands in front of her like she was trying to stop traffic. She turned towards the house. I still had my notebook and pen in hand so I wrote down the registration number and followed Jan back across the road.

‘I don’t know anything about it,’ she said, talking to herself. ‘This is Tuff’’s problem.’

I followed her into the house, back into the front room. She picked up a denim jacket from the back of the settee. ‘I don’t know anything. I haven’t got time. I’m late. They’re not the only ones with deadlines.’

‘Why don’t I tell Tuff, then he can sort it?’ I said. ‘You said he’s at the library?’

‘Not my drama,’ she said, still shaking her head.

I stuffed my notebook into my bag. We were obviously leaving. ‘What time will he be there till?’

‘Don’t know. He works Thursdays.’ She grabbed a bag and a ring binder from the floor in the hall.

‘Works where?’

‘The bookshop.’ She was out the front door, standing on the step waiting for me to leave so she could shut the front door. ‘The one opposite the uni.’

I stepped out of the house and she slammed the door behind me, locked it and put the key in her pocket.

‘What time does he start?’

But she didn’t hear me. Or if she did she didn’t acknowledge it. She was already out of the gate and headed down the street towards town. I watched her stride away until she turned left at the end and disappeared from sight.