A neighbour opened her door a crack to bring in a bottle of milk. Through the narrow slit he saw she was wearing a dressing gown which slipped to reveal one bare leg. He couldn’t make out her face, just an arm reaching out to the doorstep.
‘Excuse me. Police. Have you got a minute?’
He’d startled her. The milk remained where it was. She opened the door a little wider, pulled her dressing gown around her. She was middle-aged but wearing well.
‘Could we have a chat?’ he said. ‘It’ll not take long.’
An animal-feed lorry rolled past, bringing with it a strange yeasty smell. ‘You’d best come in,’ she said. ‘I’m hardly decent for talking in the street.’
Her name was Mandy and she was a library assistant in Huddersfield, divorced, the kids all grown up. Today she wasn’t starting work till midday.
‘What was he like then, the bloke next door?’
Taylor was sitting at the table in the small kitchen. She’d made him tea, very strong, and there was bread in the toaster.
‘Why? What’s happened to him?’ She’d lit a cigarette. ‘The first of the day,’ she said, relishing it. There were times when Taylor wished he still smoked.
‘Didn’t you see his picture in the paper?’
‘I don’t bother with a paper these days.’
‘He’s dead,’ Taylor said. ‘He was found strangled in Shetland.’
‘Where?’ She was curious but she didn’t seem terribly upset that her neighbour had died.
‘The Shetland Islands. Right off the north of Scotland.’
‘Oh.’ She finished the cigarette and stubbed it out in her saucer. ‘I thought I hadn’t seen him lately, but he keeps strange hours. I suppose the house’ll be up for sale. I hope we don’t get a noisy bugger moving in.’
‘Was Mr Booth noisy?’
‘Not really. Occasionally he’d have friends in late. I’d hear them talking, maybe a bit of music, but they weren’t rowdy. Nothing you could complain about.’
‘How long had he lived there?’
‘About five years. He moved in after me.’
‘Was he on his own for the whole of that time? No girlfriends? Boyfriends?’
‘He wasn’t gay,’ she said seriously. ‘At least I don’t think he was. He’d been married once. And he’d had a child. But he left them. Quite suddenly.’
‘How do you know all that?’
‘He told me,’ she said.
‘Close, were you?’
‘No. We lived our own lives. I don’t want the whole village knowing my business and nor did he. But one night he’d locked himself out of his house. He’d left all his keys in the Mill. There was a lass who works for him, lives in Huddersfield, and she had a set, but it took a while to get hold of her so he waited in mine. I’d just opened a bottle of wine and we ended up sharing it. It was the only time we really talked. That was the time he told me about his wife. He regretted just walking out on her, but she didn’t understand his dreams.’ She paused, looked at Taylor. ‘Dreams! You’re all the same, you men. Selfish bastards.’
Taylor wanted to reply that in his experience it was the women who were the dreamy ones, but he made no comment. ‘He didn’t tell you he was going away this time, then?’
‘No. Like I said, we weren’t that sort of neighbours. I just noticed that I’d not seen him around for a few days.’
The toaster popped. She nodded towards it. ‘Do you fancy a piece?’
But Taylor didn’t have anything else to say and couldn’t imagine sitting at her table making polite conversation. That was much more Perez’s style than his. He refused the offer and thanked her. As she showed him out she was already lighting another cigarette.
Back on the street, teenagers were coming out of the houses and wandering towards the bus stop for school. How old would Booth’s child be now? He wondered if Jebson had traced the wife, if she’d even found out that the man had been married. A small train wound along a viaduct crossing the valley. The sun was already hot enough for Taylor to feel warm in his jacket.
Jebson arrived dead on time. He’d gone into a newsagent’s and was sitting in the car trying to concentrate on a paper. She was square with very dark hair and dark eyebrows. He’d have marked her out as CID from a hundred yards, but wasn’t sure why. He got out of his car and joined her on the doorstep of Booth’s house. She pulled a bunch of keys from her bag.
‘Where did you get those?’
‘Martha Tyler, Booth’s assistant. She’s been into the house once. She was worried when he didn’t come back. He’d said he’d only be away a couple of days. She imagined some sort of accident.’
Inside, it had the feel of a bachelor household. Tidy enough but not very clean. His place was much the same. He walked quickly through, stopping at the door of each room and looking inside. A small kitchen, the microwave the most prominent piece of equipment, a living room with a sofa and a coffee table a convenient height for eating takeaway food in front of the TV.
‘Have you found the wife?’ he asked.
‘What wife?’
He felt a stab of satisfaction. He’d been here an hour and already he was showing the Yorkies how to do the job.
‘According to a neighbour he deserted a wife and child. A few years ago now. Didn’t Miss Tyler mention it? You must have asked her about next of kin.’
Jebson shrugged. ‘She said she didn’t have any contact details for relatives.’
Suddenly he hated being in the small house. It was too depressing, too close to home. If he died suddenly, would anyone know who to contact for him? ‘We should leave this for the search team,’ he said. ‘We’ll only get in the way. First priority is to check phone calls and emails. Work computer and home PC. He had some reason for going to Shetland. He knew people there, though no one’s admitting to it at the minute, and he must have been in touch to make the arrangements for the visit. And get into his bank account. He might have left his wife and child but he should have been supporting them financially. The CSA ought to have records.’
‘You’ll have to check with the boss,’ she said. ‘The way he sees it, it’s not even our case.’
‘Well, I’m hardly going to send a search team from Shetland…’
She shrugged again.
Out on the pavement again, he realized he should have handled things differently. But he’d used up all his sweetness and charm with Perez and his team. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have made assumptions. It’s a sod of a case. But you can see we need to know more about Booth, and you’re the people on the ground.’
‘Like I said, you’ll have to have a word with the boss.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Martha Tyler said she’d get into work early today. She should be there by now. I’m due in court at nine-thirty, but I’ll point you in the direction of the Mill.’
Martha Tyler was in the office drinking coffee. Her hair was tied into one plait, so long that it reached halfway down her back. It seemed old-fashioned and at odds with the jeans and the skimpy green vest top. She watched Taylor approaching across the rehearsal room and got up to meet him. She looked as if she’d had a heavy night.
‘I don’t know what to do with the company,’ she said. ‘The actors are supposed to start a school tour on Monday. Should we carry on?’
‘Did Mr Booth have an accountant? A lawyer? Perhaps it would be wise to check the legal position with them.’
‘I don’t know. I’m only here on a sort of work experience.’ She returned to the office, sat behind the desk, motioned for Taylor to take the other chair. ‘It even seems odd sitting here. This was Jeremy’s domain.’
‘Tell me about him.’ The sort of question Perez would have asked, which drove Taylor to distraction because it took so long to get relevant answers.