Well, that was the bloody limit, Rose decided. She went to her room and threw what few clothes and books she had into a suitcase, packed her toiletries and makeup into her hold-all, then paused for a moment to look around and see if she had forgotten anything. She hadn’t. She had obviously had the misfortune to end up in a house full of bloody lunatics, and her nerves couldn’t stand it anymore. She would post the rent she owed later. Right now, if she hurried, she might just be able to catch a train or a bus back to Oldham and her mum and dad. At worst, she could phone home and her dad would drive over and pick her up. He’d complain, and he’d lay on the I-told-you-so guilt trip long and thick, but he’d do it. Anything had to be better than stopping a moment longer in this madhouse, she thought. Then she slammed the door behind her and pushed her key through the letterbox.
ANNIE WAS sitting cross-legged on her living room floor, focusing on her breathing, letting the thoughts come and go like bubbles, holding on to none of them, her mind fixed on her breathing. In, out. In, out.
A knock at the door broke her concentration. Irritated, she glanced at her watch. After ten. Who would come calling at this time? The spell was broken anyway, so she got up slowly, aware of her knees cracking from lack of practice, and answered. It was Nerys Powell, the female AFO.
“What are you doing here?” Annie asked. “You shouldn’t be here. Chambers will go spare.”
Nerys held up her hands. “I know. I know,” she said. “And I’m sorry. But can I talk to you? Please? Just for a minute or two. There’s no reason Mr. Chambers has to know about it, is there?”
“How did you find out where I live?”
“I’ve got a friend in Human Resources.”
“Who?”
“Just a friend.”
“I could find out easily enough, you know.”
“Why do you say that? What do you mean?”
Annie sighed. “Nothing,” she said. “Just that you shouldn’t be here. It’s inappropriate.”
“What are you so afraid of? Being seen with me? If that’s the case, the quicker you let me in the better. Besides, we’re miles from Eastvale. I know it’s late, and I’m sorry. I did come earlier but there was nobody home. I’ve been wandering around getting lost, trying to pluck up my courage to come back. I stopped for a couple of drinks. I just want to talk to you, that’s all. Nobody has to know.”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t.” Annie chewed on her lip and thought for a moment, still disoriented from being snapped out of her meditation. Nerys certainly didn’t appear drunk. Then she made a snap decision and stood aside. “Okay, you can come in. But just for a couple of minutes.”
Nerys entered the room. “Cozy,” she said, looking around. “Just another word for cramped.”
“Bijou.”
“Another word for too small.”
Nerys laughed. “No, I like it. Seriously.”
“Sit down. Can I get you a cup of tea or something. Coffee?”
“Nothing, thanks.”
“You sure?”
“My body is a temple.”
“Well, I’m having a glass of wine.”
“In that case…” said Nerys.
Annie went into the kitchen and took a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge. She felt uncomfortable with Nerys’s visit and knew she shouldn’t be talking to her, or even listening, but she was feeling rebellious after today’s excitement. She was also frustrated by her visit to Tracy’s house in Leeds, and her later one to Jaff’s flat in Granary Wharf. It had been easy enough to locate. There had been nobody home there, of course, and one of the neighbors had informed her, before slamming his door in her face, that the police had already been around asking questions, that he had told them all he knew, and that he was damned if he was going to repeat it all again to her.
So she decided she might as well lend her ear to Nerys for a while. You never know, she told herself, you might even learn something. She opened the wine and took it through to the living room along with two glasses. Nerys was on her knees by the small selection of CDs on the lower shelves of the bookcase. She was wearing blue jeans that showed a bit too much arse crack and a light wind cheater over a black T-shirt, none of which did much to disguise the muscles or hide the bulge at her waist when she stood up. Probably pure muscle, too, Annie guessed. “See anything you like?” she asked.
Nerys glanced over at her. “Nope,” she said. “But then I’m not much of a one for music. Not like your boss, I hear.”
“Alan? Yes, he does have a bit of a reputation. I can’t say I’ve got a clue what he’s listening to half the time. Some of it sounds pretty good, but some of it, well, to put it frankly, it just sounds like a bull with a pain in its testicles to me.”
Nerys laughed and accepted her wine before sitting down. She was a good three inches shorter than Annie, though much stockier, and her hair was so short and spiky that it resembled a military crew cut. Her eyes were green. “Cheers,” she said, holding out her glass.
Annie clinked hers against it. “Cheers.”
“He’s got quite a reputation in other areas, too, around County HQ, your DCI,” said Nerys.
“Oh? What do you mean?”
“Bit of a cowboy. Likes to do things his own way.”
“I suppose so. But don’t we all, if we think ours is the right way?”
“True enough. It’s so hard to be certain, though, isn’t it? I’m more used to following orders. The Firearms Cadre is very discipline oriented.”
“I suppose it has to be,” said Annie. “But that wouldn’t suit Alan, you’re right. Still, I don’t suppose it was Alan Banks you came to talk about?”
“In a way, it is,” said Nerys. “Mmm, this is nice.” Annie shrugged. “Just cheap Italian plonk.”
Nerys stood up again and walked over to a framed watercolor of Eastvale Castle in the evening light. “That’s good,” she said. “Whoever painted it really caught the light at that time of a winter evening.”
“Thank you,” said Annie.
Nerys’s jaw dropped. “You mean…? You? I never dreamed.” She smiled. “Honest?”
“Honest,” said Annie, feeling herself blush. “Why would I lie? It’s all right. Why should you know, anyway? It’s just a hobby, that’s all.”
“But you’re so good. So talented. Have you ever thought-”
“Look, Nerys, I appreciate the compliment and all, but can you just get to the point. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to appear rude, but…” Nerys sat down again. “No. No. Of course. You’re right. I suppose I’m just nervous, that’s all. I tend to blather on a bit when I’m nervous.”
“Why should you be nervous?”
“Well, you’re a DI and I’m just a lowly PC.”
“You’re hardly lowly. Besides, you’re the one with the gun.”
“I’m not carrying. Honest.” She held her arms out. “Want to check?”
“The point?” said Annie.
Nerys finally let her arms drop, sat back down in the chair and seemed to relax a little. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “That stuff at the meeting yesterday, about Mrs. Doyle asking for DCI Banks. Is it true?”
“Yes, it’s true,” said Annie. “They’re old friends. Neighbors.”
“Would he have gone?”
“I think so. Probably. But he’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“America. A long way away.”
Nerys took a sip of wine. “Pity he wasn’t here. It would have saved us all a hell of a lot of trouble.”
“Not what Chambers thinks.”
“Chambers is an arsehole.” Nerys put her hand to her mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of you.”
Annie couldn’t help but laugh. “No, you shouldn’t,” she said. “But you hit the nail right on the head.”
“I understand you worked for him once?”
“For my sins. You know a lot.”
“When the shit hits the fan like this, I make it my business to know as much as I can.”