The sound of Flynn’s voice, high with stress, made Lorimer straighten up. ‘What do you mean she’s not in the house? Have you looked upstairs?’ he demanded, then realised how stupid the question was: Alice Finlay was not yet able to manage the stairs, was she?
‘Aye, she’s no onywhere in the hoose. I’ve looked everywhere. There wasnae anybody fae the hospital comin tae take her for physio or that, was there?’ Flynn asked anxiously.
Lorimer sat silently for a moment, his mind whirling with possibilities before replying, ‘I don’t think so. Maggie would know, though. I’ll call Muirpark. Hold on and I’ll get back to you. But,’ he added, ‘ring the station here if she turns up, okay?’
His fingers were trembling as he dialled the number of Maggie’s school and asked to be put through to his wife. What the hell was he going to tell her? Visions of his mother-in-law wandering off on her own came to his mind. But that was absurd! Alice had had a stroke. She wasn’t suffering from the sort of awful dementia that made old folk wander out of their homes and into the unknown.
As he waited those interminable minutes for Maggie to come to the phone, Lorimer recalled his mother-in-law’s ability at yesterday’s games of Scrabble. Nothing wrong with her wits, he told himself. So why would she suddenly take off like that?
‘Maggie,’ he said, relief flooding him at the sound of her voice. ‘It’s your mum.’
The police station on the south side of the city took the Superintendent’s call and within minutes patrol cars were scouring the streets around Lorimer’s home on the lookout for an elderly lady fitting Alice Finlay’s description. Flynn had made two pots of tea so far; one for the officers who had arrived then another for Maggie, her car screeching into the drive.
‘When did you last see her?’ Maggie asked, her mug of tea barely touched.
Flynn shook his head. It was a question he hadn’t been able to answer when the police officers had asked him earlier.
‘I honestly don’t know. You’d been gone a wee bit afore I began the grass. Your maw,’ he broke off, his voice choking back sudden tears, ‘she wis here sitting on the recliner when I went outside.’ He scratched his head as if the gesture would restore some absent memory. ‘I havenae a clue whit time it wis. Or whit she wis doin when I wis out there.’
‘It’s okay, Flynn.’ Maggie squeezed his hands gently. ‘No one’s blaming you. Maybe she just went for a wee walk,’ she suggested, though her strained tone gave the lie to the words themselves.
‘Huv they heard frae the hospital yet?’ Flynn looked over Maggie’s shoulder at the female officer standing in the kitchen, mobile phone to her ear.
The woman’s nod and look of apology made the young man groan.
‘She’s not there, I’m afraid. There was no out-patient appointment for Mrs Finlay at all. The nurse is actually on her way now. What do you want me to tell them?’ the uniformed officer asked Maggie.
‘Better let her come,’ she replied with a tremulous sigh. ‘Maybe she’ll have some idea what to do.’ She shrugged, attempting a smile. ‘Perhaps it’s not so uncommon a situation for them.’
Maggie felt something soft against her leg. Chancer looked up, his eyes wide with expectation. She patted her lap and the cat jumped up lightly, butting her hand with his head until she began to stroke his fur.
‘Ah, if only you could talk, Chancer,’ she told the cat. ‘Maybe you could tell us where Mum has gone.’ As if in answer the orange cat gave a loud purr then sat absolutely still, staring ahead as if he was looking at something none of them could see.
CHAPTER 32
Alice was tired. The journey through the city was taking such a long time. Surely they should be on the motorway and heading towards the airport and Greenock by now? She’d been in such a hurry to leave that her spectacles were still on the side table where she had left them, so each road sign was a mere blur of letters and symbols. She hadn’t even thought to lift her handbag. Or tell anyone. Biting her lip anxiously, she thought of Flynn out the back, cutting the grass. This woman officer hadn’t known about him, had she? What would the poor lad think when he found she had gone?
‘There’s a young man… in the gar-den,’ she said breathlessly. ‘He’ll… be worried about me.’
Was it her imagination, or had the policewoman touched the brake, slowing the car down as she gave Alice a sharp look?
‘It’s all right. My colleague will deal with him,’ she told Alice, turning her gaze back to the road.
Alice sighed and tried to relax, remembering the exercises the speech therapist had taught her. Shoulders down, clench and unclench fists, same with the teeth, loosen the jaw. As she forced herself to go through these little motions, Alice tried not to think about Bill. But it had to be pretty bad. After all, why wasn’t the tall young woman telling her any details? She thought of Maggie, imagining her daughter’s reaction to the worst sort of news. Being a policeman was a hazardous profession. And hadn’t Bill been in situations of extreme danger before now?
Alice watched as the streets became less and less familiar, dark tenements looming on either side as the car left the main road and headed uphill, away from the city centre. They passed a couple of rough-looking men with a long-haired Alsatian dog loping beside them and Alice stared at them from the passenger window as the car swept past.
‘We’re not going down to Greenock?’ she asked at last, bewildered by this unknown area.
The woman beside her shook her head, her expression unfathomable as she drove the car in and out of a series of narrow streets, flinging the vehicle around corners.
Alice clutched the edge of the car seat, a sensation of dread sweeping over her. Something bad was happening, all right. But suddenly it felt as though it were happening to her.
‘There’s no sign of her,’ the police officer at the other end of the line told Lorimer. ‘The nearest CCTV cameras haven’t picked up anyone answering to her description, I’m afraid.’
‘Then, if she hasn’t wandered off anywhere in the immediate vicinity of our house she must have gone off in a car,’ Lorimer said. ‘There really isn’t any other explanation.’
‘Does she have any other friends or family who might have taken her out for a jaunt?’ It was a reasonable sort of question for the officer to ask. Yet Lorimer could detect a hint of scepticism in his tone. The choice of the word jaunt seemed to suggest that this whole exercise was risible. Eyebrows were obviously being raised about the haste with which Alice Finlay had been posted as a missing person. By a senior officer who was pulling rank. Was he making a nuisance of himself? Had Alice simply wandered off?
‘No,’ he replied at last. ‘We’re all the family she has. And she would have let us know if anyone had wanted to take her out. Besides,’ he added sternly, ‘she was expecting the health visitor this morning. She wouldn’t go off when someone was due to see her. That’s just not possible.’
‘The stroke you mentioned,’ the officer coughed delicately, ‘it hasn’t left her… you know… impaired in any way?’
‘No,’ Lorimer told him firmly. ‘She’s as sane as you or I. Maybe not quite as articulate as she used to be but there’s nothing wrong with her mind.’
There was a silence at the other end of the line as the Glasgow officer thought about this.
‘So, no admissions to any of the local hospitals and no trace of her on the CCTV cameras.’ He paused again before continuing and this time his tone was brisk. ‘It’s a little bit of a mystery, Superintendent, but I’m sure our officers will find her before much longer. Don’t worry.’
Lorimer replaced the phone, resisting the urge to slam it back on to its cradle. The infuriating thing was that he’d have dealt with someone else exactly as that officer had dealt with him. They were doing everything just as they should. But it was frustrating not to be a part of it.