help?â
âSergeant Dale?â
But it was not Ian who answered. A voice from the heart of the Black Country spoke: âDS Reed. Can I help you?â
âTina! Whatâs all this about Sergeant Reed?â
Tina and I had spent more time than either of us liked in each otherâs company in the spring, when she had been my minder. But although we came close to killing each other, closeted in the confines of my semi, we also became quite fond of each other in a guarded sort of way.
âAh,â she began, âgot me promotion through at last. Imagine me sewing on all them stripes.â
âI can: I can still see you sewing all those curtains up in my spare room!â
âHowâs yourself, then, our Soph?â
I brought her up to date with my limited news.
âAnd did you know as how Chris is back from India?â she asked. I could hear the grin in her voice. âCame back Sunday, he did.â
âHe wrote and asked me to meet him,â I admitted. âBut I told him Iâd be on this writing course. Wouldnât be able to get away.â
âOh, ah,â she said, the syllables signifying profound disbelief. âAny road, Ian Dale picked him up.â
âDoes he get any leave so he can get over his jet lag?â
âShouldnât think so. He said as how he wanted to have a couple of weeksâ holiday there, when heâd finished with Delhi. Be a tourist, like.â
âGood for him.â Better than a week at Eyre House failing to learn how to write. âSo will he be taking on this case?â
âWhat case?â
âSorry: Iâve got everything out of order. Iâm on a residential writing course. Right? Out at Eyre Park.â
âBack of beyond, that.â
âYes. Not very exciting. But one of my fellow students has just died, and the local police are very â relaxed about it.â
âAny reason for them not to be?â Her voice was suddenly alert.
âShe wasnât old. She didnât threaten suicide. A doctor here reckons itâs alcohol poisoning.â
âWell, then.â
âBut so many people here hated her. Iâve just got a feeling.â
âFeeling, my aunt Fanny! Soph, havenât you got nothing to go on?â
âNothing at all. Iâd love to be proved wrong.â
âOK. Tell me what our people have done so far.â
âNothing. The ambulance people took the woman away and then a kid in a panda turned up and went away again. Leaving her room open to the four winds. I just stopped the administrator here from giving the room a thorough clean.â
âJesus. OK. Seeing as how I know you, Iâll have a word with Chris, shall I?â
She expected me to back down â sheâd seen my efforts not to get emotionally involved with him.
âGreat,â I said brazenly. âDo that.â
Shazia was in the kitchen, making coffee for everyone who was up. There was some sort of emergency get-together in the lounge, and I ought to have been there. But I couldnât face the questions theyâd want to ask, questions Iâd want to ask in their situation, and I drifted out on the terrace. It had stopped raining, and I wanted some fresh air to clear my still foggy brain.
If I sat down on an inviting bench I might even go to sleep. It had been a real effort to respond to Shaziaâs frantic summons. Normally Iâm up and working at raising my level in the Canadian Air Force Exercises by seven-thirty. How I should have slept through till nine, goodness knows. Every movement was still almost as much an effort as it was to think. And why had Shazia come to me? Ah, because she couldnât wake Kate, and she wouldnât want to alarm Agnes or her friends. Why me when Gimson was the logical choice? Perhaps Shazia wouldnât be able to think of a rational answer either.
Where should I meet Chris? How should I speak to him? I really do like
Lightnin' Hopkins: His Life, Blues