Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 (18 page)

‘No, we’ll follow him.’

‘On foot?’

‘Yeah. Unless there’s a pogo stick
in your boot?’

‘And if he gets in a car?’

I yawned. ‘That’s where your fast-pursuit skills come in.’

‘So you know about those?’ She gave me that look again.

‘It’s all in the file.’

One hundred and seven minutes later, Tony Porson left his house and got into an Audi A3. He was on the move. Kate eased the Mini onto Broadway, and the chase was on.

‘Don’t get too close,’ I said, tapping the dashboard. ‘But lose him, cupcake, and you and me is through.’ The brake and throttle interlude gave me another chance to touch her leg.

She changed gear to dislodge the laying-on. ‘Ed, tell me you got to the end of that motivational training video?’

I nodded. ‘Far enough.’

We were two cars behind the A3 and holding station. I pulled the peak on my baseball cap lower, hoping it might morph into a thinking cap. Where was Porson Junior going? He wasn’t dressed for golf, and it was too early for a parade.

Forty minutes later we were in Urmston, and Porson’s car turned right into Flixton Grange Nursing Home. We drove past the entrance and parked in the next street. Kate turned off the engine and rested her hands on the steering wheel, her thumbs bracing against the column. While she tested the trigger point of her air bag, I took in the view from the front window, trying to get my bearings; or at least trying to spot a café.

‘Well, Mr Greene,’ said Kate. ‘What now?’

‘Glad you asked.’ I did a face-squiggle. ‘Coming up now we have a new series: “Kate Connolly Investigates
”
.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t recall signing up for that?’

‘It’s our only option. He’s not going to recognise
you
. I’m not asking you to decapitate anyone. Just find out who he’s seeing.’

She shifted in her seat. ‘What? I just ask nicely at reception?’

‘You’re a kick-ass lawyer. Assert yourself.’

Kate sat there quietly. I could tell she was thinking, but it wasn’t like you could hear the sprockets or anything. After a few seconds she pulled the vanity mirror down, re-applied her lipstick, flicked her hair a few times and then pushed the mirror back into place.

‘Will I do?’

‘Who loves ya, Baby?’

She frowned again. ‘What if I get challenged?’

‘Just ad-lib. Never fails.’

‘For an imbecile, maybe.’

I leaned over and opened her door. ‘Curtain call for Miss Connolly.’

Kate pressed herself back into the seat. ‘Ed, I need a cover story.’

‘Alright … I’m thinking here, I’m thinking ...’ I paused to round up the grey cells. ‘Wave your business card at them. Tell ‘em you’re on a probate search.’ I adopted my Robert de Niro look. ‘It’s a midnight run for crying out loud.’

She nodded and tried not to look impressed.

I grabbed her hand and held it until she looked at me. ‘This could be the mother of all break-throughs, Kate. I need you to make it rain.’

She smiled and pushed an upturned palm outside. ‘That fine rain do?’

I squinted through the sun-roof. ‘We’re in Manchester. It should be pissing down.’

She swung her legs out of the car and set-off without looking back. I watched her all the way, just in case. Eventually she glided around the corner, her be-jeaned legs moving with amazing grace. I preferred her in a skirt all the same.

Less than fifteen minutes later she was back, looking pleased with herself as she got in the car.

I held out my hands. ‘Hello, London. Can we please have your scores?’

A pause out-stayed its welcome before she finally spoke. ‘He’s visiting one “Elaine Taylor
”
.’

That wasn’t what I was expecting, but I nodded all the same. ‘Surprise, Surprise.’

‘It’s Helen’s sister, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. Taylor is the family name.’

‘I thought the sister was killed in Africa?’

I clicked my neck. ‘Rejoice. She lives.’

‘Unless ...’

‘Unless what?’

‘You know.’

I inhaled a big breath. ‘All in good time.’ Turning in my seat, I tapped her shoulder. ‘Fine work, Miss Connolly, you’re hired.’

‘I get the raincoat now?’

I smiled and nodded. ‘And the hat.’

‘Good. As long as they match.’ Kate nudged my arm to keep my attention. ‘There’s something else.’ A “something else” smile lighted her face. ‘I also know which room she’s in.’

I leaned over and kissed her head. ‘
Now
it’s raining.’ I could smell her shampoo. What can I tell you? Coconuts and lilies powered the scent. Tesco’s finest it wasn’t.

Kate didn’t lean in, and she didn’t lean away. She simply smiled and looked ahead. ‘The hat and raincoat would have been fine.’

‘Nonsense. Plenty more where that came from, my sleuthful friend.’

She sneaked a peek at her watch. ‘What next? More waiting?’

‘Yep. Until TP leaves, anyway. Then we’ll find out what Elaine has to say for herself.’

~

Tony Porson was either a dedicated nephew or meticulous with his anecdotes. It was more than two hours before he left. After a decent interval we headed down the gravel drive to Flixton Grange. Answers lay dead ahead.

With Kate renewing her probate scam at the front desk, I slipped by and shimmied into the main hallway, keeping my progress to a nonchalant pace. I took the second corridor, stopped at room seventeen, looked both ways and then knocked. No answer. I knocked again and waited. Still no answer. After a five second count I knocked for a final time then went in.

As if hiding in plain sight, I sensed a presence in the room that I couldn’t see. After moving a few paces forward and taking a second looky-looky, I noticed a lady sitting in a large, wingback armchair on the far side of the room. She was partly obscured by cushions, and she held herself completely still. The woman’s head was turned away from me, but the chair was angled so I could see her side profile. She was staring out of a large bay window, a silk shawl draped around her neck and shoulders. Yellow walls reflected light all around the room.

I could tell by her stiff posture and the slight head movement that she knew someone had come into the room, but she didn’t turn, and she didn’t speak. Her fingers twitched between the worn arm on her chair and a side table. I stood there a short while, just watching. But if she was looking to keep up her
hear no evil, see no evil
routine, I didn’t intend to play along. The room made me uneasy; it was too warm and smelled like a mix of boiled eggs and antiseptic. Hospital “lite”.

I moved to her side and touched her shoulder, providing the cue for her to finally turn towards me. I gave her a hesitant smile. ‘Hello, Elai–’

Before I could finish, she gasped and recoiled. ‘You! It can’t be.’ Her hands came to her mouth and she sunk lower among the mismatched cushions.

I was thinking the same thing about her, but I didn’t say it. As for the “–aine”, it never came, and it never would. Elaine Taylor was dead. Okay, she’d always been dead as far as Clegg’s little pot boiler went, but at least she’d been alive a few days ago. I knew it for sure now. I also knew I had a zombie for a client.

‘Mrs Porson, I presume?’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sunday – 12:30

Whatever reply she’d intended got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t speak – for real, this time. She looked petrified.

Without taking my eyes away from hers, I dragged a visitor’s seat from beside the bed and placed it in front of her armchair. I sat down on the moulded plastic and held her hand.

‘It’s okay, really.’ My head tilted as I smiled. ‘But you know you have to tell me what’s going on?’

She kept looking at me, then looking away, wiping tears as she went, as if finding words to say then losing them. Eventually she gathered her composure. ‘He sent you, didn’t he?’ She looked down at her hands after speaking.

‘Who he?’

‘He killed her, you do know that?’

I squeezed her hand, trying to get her to look at me. ‘Helen, I do my own bidding. No one sent me. The police think
I
killed you or whoever–’

‘Yes,’ she broke in. ‘Tony told me. I gather you went to see him.’

‘Yeah, and now I know why he was so unhelpful.’

She flashed me a look and started to say something but thought better of it.

I let the moment pass and went on. ‘That’s why I followed him today. That’s why I’m here.’ With a light touch I put both my hands on hers. ‘Helen, you’re still my client. I can help, but I need to know everything.’

‘You’re just a kid. Why should I trust you?’

I gave a little snort. ‘Maybe, but this kid has done a lot of growing old in the last few days. Dead bodies, interrogations and Russian roulette seem to have that effect on me.’ I tapped my face. ‘You see these stitches? That’s for getting involved in this thing. My badge of honour.’ I lowered my voice. ‘You can’t go to the police, and Tony can’t help. I’m here, I’m not leaving. Your choice.’

Helen Porson rocked back and forth against her cushions. It went on for half a minute or so. Then she stopped.

‘Jimmy,’ she said under her breath.

‘Jimmy Cartwright?’

She nodded.

‘He killed Elaine?’

Helen gave me a sharp look. ‘How do you know …?’

‘Her name?’

Another nod. Her eyes avoided mine, flicking over to the window instead.

‘I found an old picture of you and Elaine at the seaside. I showed it to Clegg, and he told me.’

‘I see.’ She took a tissue from the box on her side table and held it to her nose. ‘How is Michael?’

‘We’ll get to that.’ I tried not to let anything show. ‘Tell me about Elaine.’

Helen took a deep breath and rested her hands on her lap. ‘Jimmy killed her. He thought she was me. That’s why I’m hiding, pretending to be Elaine. If he finds out, he won’t rest until ...’ Her hands formed a diagonal around her neck.

I stood up and walked to the bay window. I needed some thinking time and a change of scenery. Besides, staying still was proving tricky, with all my aches erupting at once. But the biggest pain came from my head as it tried to twist around the new revelations.

Resting precariously on the low window sill, I looked over to her. ‘I thought Elaine was killed in Africa. That’s what Clegg said.’

‘Yes. That’s what I told him. That’s what I told everyone. In a way she
was
dead to me. That’s why she was in this home.’

‘Was any of that stuff about Africa true?’

‘Yes, mostly.’

‘But I’m guessing she didn’t die there?’