‘Gareth’ll be back in a few minutes. He just texted me.’
‘Okay, cool.’ Jimmy picked up his drinks and put them on the table, wiping the base of the pint glass off the side of the tray as he did so. ‘He’s an interesting character.’
‘Certainly is,’ Joe replied, doing the same thing with his own pint. ‘You know he’s done time for murder?’
‘Bloody hell, seriously?’ Jimmy’s eyebrows went up. He’d not been expecting that.
‘He got off in the end, but you know what they say.’ Joe took a sip from his beer. ‘No smoke without fire, and all that.’
‘What happened?’
‘He was married, and one of his wife’s ex-boyfriends ran her over. Jennifer, her name was. Sweet little thing, and perfect for Gareth. He used to be into all sorts of stuff, but she straightened him right out.’ Joe stared at his pint, and Jimmy saw the sadness in his eyes. ‘Anyway, cut a long story short and all that. The ex-boyfriend got off on a technicality, and funny old thing, got battered to death not long after.’
‘Jesus. Nice friends you’ve got, Joe.’
‘It was down by that old pub on Yarmouth road. The Griffin?’
‘I’ve not been in there for years. Used to be a right dump.’ Jimmy paused, thinking. ‘Was that last year? I remember something in the papers.’
‘Better change the subject, mate,’ Joe said without turning round. ‘Gareth’s just walked in.’ Jimmy looked over Joe’s shoulder to see the younger man walking towards them. How had Joe known he’d walked in?
‘Gents,’ Gareth said as he took a seat at the table. He reached forward and picked up the last pint glass. ‘Cheers.’ He took a long sip of his beer and looked directly at Jimmy. ‘I’ve got your daughter’s phone, Mr Tucker. You’ll have it back tomorrow. I’ve got a job up on the coast, so I’ll see if Laura’s free to pop round with it. You left it in the pub, yeah? If she asks?’
‘Thanks, Gareth,’ Jimmy replied in a quiet voice. ‘Do I owe you anything?’
‘No.’
‘So, Gareth,’ Joe said, leaning back with a smile. ‘Are you doing that lawyer yet, or what?’ Gareth looked at him, and Jimmy saw the irritation on the young man’s face. It didn’t last long, but it had been there even so.
‘Don’t be rude, Joe,’ Gareth replied, letting a smile play across his face. ‘I am not “doing” Laura, no, and don’t think just because this is your pub, I won’t give you a smack for saying things like that.’
‘Not doing her yet?’ Joe asked. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
‘No comment,’ Gareth replied, a thin smile on his face.
‘Your young lady’s a lawyer, is she?’ Jimmy asked, surprised.
‘Fuck’s sake, don’t you start,’ Gareth said, his smile broadening. ‘She’s not my young lady. Why are you two old boys ganging up on me, anyway?’
‘It’s just I need a will at some point,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Sooner, rather than later, if you get my drift.’ Gareth’s face fell, and he opened his mouth to say something when Joe cut him off.
‘I can just imagine it,’ he said, laughing. ‘Gareth here’s finally got the poor girl in the sack when he says, “We’ll have to hurry, my mate needs a will before he pops his clogs”!’
Despite himself, Jimmy felt himself starting to giggle. Not so much at what Joe had just said, but at the expression on Gareth’s face. The young man was completely lost for anything to say, and Jimmy could see him swaying between anger and laughter.
‘I’m not going to die in the next ten seconds, Joe,’ Jimmy said, grinning widely. ‘He’ll have time to finish.’
At this, Joe tilted his head back and roared with laughter. He slapped Gareth on the shoulder and gripped him, shaking the other man as he did so. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy saw the old man and his dog both looking over at their table.
‘Jesus wept,’ Gareth said with a grin as he looked between the two older men. ‘What a pair of twats you two are.’
A moment later, once Joe had stopped laughing, he turned to Jimmy.
‘Right then, mate,’ Joe said. ‘Do you want to tell young Gareth here what you told me just before he came in?’
‘Sure,’ Jimmy replied. He started by telling Gareth about the aneurysm and then recounted the story about Max, adding one or two points he’d forgotten when he’d been telling Joe earlier. By the time he had finished, Gareth had an intense expression on his face.
‘You’re sure this Max fella took the photos of your girl?’
‘One hundred per-cent.’
‘Do you think he’s involved in her going missing?’
‘It’s the only lead I’ve got. I think he’s got more photographs that he’s not letting on about. They could lead me to her, or at least closer to her than I am now.’
‘What about the Old Bill?’
‘What about them?’ Jimmy said with a resigned sigh. ‘They’re not that bothered. Milly’s an adult, not at risk in any way. Probably just done one as far as they’re concerned.’
‘You should take what you’ve got to the Old Bill,’ Gareth replied. ‘Let them deal with it. I don’t see what else you can do that’s legal, Jimmy.’
‘Do you think I give a fuck about what’s legal and what’s not, Gareth?’ Jimmy retorted. ‘I’m dying, mate. A life sentence for me won’t last more than a couple of months.’ He stared at Gareth, not wanting to be angry with the man, but not able to help himself.
‘Jimmy, calm down, mate,’ Joe said, resting a hand on Jimmy’s forearm. ‘We’re only trying to help.’
‘Gareth, I’m sorry,’ Jimmy replied after a brief pause. ‘I’m just running out of options.’ He paused before continuing. ‘And time. I don’t have much time.’
‘I get that, Jimmy,’ Gareth replied in a low voice. ‘I’ve got a few ideas, if you don’t mind breaking one or two rules.’
‘Like I said, I don’t care,’ Jimmy said. ‘I want my Milly back. Or I want to know what’s happened to her. Before it’s too late.’
‘Joe?’ Gareth looked at Big Joe who was halfway to his feet before Gareth said anything else. ‘Shall we get a refill?’
Chapter 26
Jimmy sipped at his coffee while he watched a small bird picking worms out of what passed for a lawn in his front garden. It was a bright morning, the drizzle of the day before long gone, but the sunlight wasn’t helping his headache. He rarely drank coffee, preferring tea most of the time, but sometimes a bit of caffeine didn’t hurt.
‘Stupid, stupid,’ he muttered to himself, regretting the last round of drinks the previous evening. It had been worth it, though. Gareth had surprised him and, Jimmy thought, Joe as well with his ideas. At least Jimmy now had some sort of plan. Something to work towards, and someone to help him with them.
The bird—a tit of some description judging from the colouring on its breast—pulled an enormous worm out of the damp earth. Just as Jimmy thought the bird could never fly with a worm that large, it hopped forward a couple of steps and took off.
He drained the last of his coffee and turned to walk into the kitchen when a small green car pulled up on the road outside his house. A few seconds later, he heard the gate opening and walked back to the window to see Laura—Gareth’s friend but not yet girlfriend—walking down the path. She saw him looking at her through the window and smiled, waving with one hand. Jimmy returned the gesture and, putting his mug on the table, went to the front door to let her in.
‘Morning,’ Laura said brightly as he opened the door. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d be up and about or not. Sorry to pop by so early, but Gareth asked me to drop your phone off for you on my way to work. You left it in the pub last night?’
‘No problem. Come on in,’ Jimmy replied, taking a step back and thinking about the lie. For a second, he wondered where his own phone was. Gareth’s ploy wouldn’t work if she walked in and saw Jimmy’s phone sitting on a table, but with relief he remembered that it was still charging in his bedroom. She swept past him, leaving
a scent of shampoo in her wake. ‘I normally get up quite early anyway. The lounge is through there—have a seat.’
Laura was dressed in a simple but flattering business suit. It was a dark bottle green colour, and she was wearing a cream blouse underneath the fitted jacket. The matching skirt outlined her slim hips nicely, and as she sat in the armchair, it rode up her thighs. Jimmy felt himself blush, and he turned his face away as she rearranged the material.
‘Sorry, the springs have gone in that one,’ he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her inch forward until she was perched on the edge of the chair.
‘No problem,’ she replied with a bright smile. He looked at her as she opened up her handbag and looked inside it. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup, or at least none that Jimmy could see. ‘Here you go.’ Laura lifted a small brown envelope out of her bag, one of the reinforced ones padded on the inside with bubble wrap. ‘Not sure why he put it in an envelope for you, unless he didn’t trust me not to drop it.’ She smiled, dimples appearing in both cheeks.
‘Thank you so much,’ Jimmy said, taking the envelope from her. ‘Would you like a coffee? There’s a pot just brewed in the kitchen?’
Laura got to her feet and beamed at him.
‘You sit down, I’ll get the coffee. You look a bit tired.’ Her forehead wrinkled for a few seconds. ‘Gareth said you’d all had a bit of a big night, and when I called round to collect your phone, he looked awful. He’s had to get one of his lads to drive him to Cromer as he reckons he’s still way over the limit. Go on, sit yourself down. How'd you take it?’
‘That’s the problem with youngsters these days. No stamina,’ Jimmy replied, smiling. ‘Black, no sugar, please. But if you need milk and sugar, it’s in–’
‘Sit down, Mr Tucker,’ Laura laughed, waving a perfectly manicured hand at him. ‘I can find it.’
While Laura was in the kitchen, Jimmy peeled open the envelope to see a black iPhone. He would have to wait to make sure it was Milly’s, but he had nothing planned until that evening. He put the envelope onto the coffee table as Laura walked back in with two mugs of coffee. Jimmy looked at her, realising that she wasn’t smiling any more, but had a look of concern on her face.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. Laura paused before replying.
‘I’m fine, but can I ask you something?’
‘Of course you can.’
‘Are you sick?’
‘Hungover, yes,’ Jimmy said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘That’s not Gareth’s fault, though. He didn’t pour the drink down my neck. I managed that all on my own.’
‘No, Mr Tucker,’ Laura replied. ‘Not hungover. Sick.’
Jimmy paused before replying.
‘Have you spoken to Gareth?’
‘When?’
‘Since last night?’
‘Not really,’ Laura replied. ‘A couple of grunts from him when I went round to get your phone, nothing more. Sorry, none of my business.’ She sipped at her coffee, and winced before touching her lip with a finger. ‘Ouch. That’s hot.’
‘What made you ask me if I’m sick?’ There was another pause before she replied.
‘There’s some pretty industrial strength painkillers in your kitchen?’ Laura asked in a small voice. ‘Bit of a giveaway unless you’re a junkie.’ She took another, smaller, sip of her coffee and looked at him. ‘Which I don’t think you are.’
‘I’ve got an inoperable brain aneurysm,’ Jimmy said. Laura’s eyes widened and her mouth opened, her lips forming a perfect “O” shape. ‘I think they’re giving me them to keep me quiet until it goes pop. Because when it does, I won’t need painkillers any more.’
‘Oh, my days,’ she said after a few seconds. ‘I am so sorry to hear that.’ Jimmy saw her bottom lip start to tremble. Please don’t cry, he thought. Because then I might start as well.
‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,’ Jimmy said, trying to keep his voice even. ‘It’s just one of those things, that’s all.’
The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Jimmy broke the silence.
‘Can I ask you something?’ he said. ‘A professional question?’
‘Of course you can,’ Laura replied. She made a show of smiling at him, and Jimmy loved her for it.
‘You’re a lawyer, right?’
‘Yup. Guilty as charged.’
‘Do you do wills?’
‘Er, well, I can do them,’ Laura replied. ‘But my boss is the man to speak to. That’s more his area.’
‘It might be simple, but it might be complicated.’
‘He’s very good. I’ll speak to him.’ Laura took another sip of her coffee and surreptitiously looked at the photograph on top of Jimmy’s bookcase. ‘Has she turned up?’
‘Milly?’ Jimmy followed Laura’s gaze. ‘No, she hasn’t. I mean, I want to just leave everything to her.’
‘That’d be the simple bit.’
‘But I don’t know where she is, or if anything’s happened to her.’ Jimmy closed his eyes for a second or two. ‘That’s why it might be complicated.’
‘Mr Dewar—he’s my boss—is superb, Mr Tucker,’ Laura replied. ‘He’ll help, I know he will.’
‘It’s Jimmy, please. Can I ask you something else? Slightly less morbid?’
‘Go for it. As long as it’s not about football.’ Laura smiled again, this time it was more genuine.
‘How much do you know about clothes?’
‘Bloody hell, Jimmy,’ Laura said as she looked at the dress she had pulled from Milly’s cupboard. She peered at the label in the neck of the simple-looking garment. As far as Jimmy could see, it was a slightly rumpled black dress made of some shiny material. ‘This is from the Brock Collection.’
‘That’s good, is it?’ Jimmy asked. Laura held the dress up on its hanger and examined it.
‘It’s lovely,’ she replied in a whisper. He watched as she started angling her arm as if she was going to hold the dress up against herself but abruptly changed direction at the last moment to hang it back in the cupboard. The next thing she pulled out was a grey flecked double-breasted coat with black buttons. Checking the label, she turned to Jimmy with wide eyes. ‘Stella McCartney? Seriously?’
‘So the coppers were right, then?’
‘How’d you mean?’ Laura asked.
‘The female one—Kate I think her name was—said that Milly had some nice stuff in her cupboard.’
‘It’s not just nice, Jimmy,’ Laura replied. ‘This is some seriously expensive clothing. The dress? Two grand, easily, for a Brock. The coat’s probably not far off that, either.’ Jimmy looked at the coat that Laura was holding and at the rows of clothes hanging up in the wardrobe. There had to be at least twenty, maybe thirty hangers in there. ‘May I?’
Jimmy returned his attention to Laura and saw that she was pointing at the drawer built into Milly’s cupboard.
‘Please do.’ He stood silent as Laura slid open the drawer. She pulled out a fragile-looking thing, bright red and more lace and fluff than material. To Jimmy’s relief, she didn’t hold it up to the light—Jimmy didn’t want to think about his Milly wearing something like that—but just checked the label.
‘Coco de Mer,’ she said.
‘Pricey?’
‘Three hundred quid, at least. Which for a negligee is pricey.’ Laura pointed at a pair of shoes at the bottom of the cupboard. One pair of many. ‘And even from here I can see they’re Jimmy Choo.’
Jimmy sat down heavily on the bed. He’d not heard of the other designer brands, but Jimmy Choo shoes he had heard of.
‘Bloody hell,’ he whispered. ‘What are you up to, Milly?’ A few seconds later, he thought of something to ask Laura. ‘Is it genuine gear, then? Or forged?’ That would make a lot more sense—Milly buying a bunch of snide gear from the back end of Snetterton market.
‘I’m no expert,’ Laura replied as she neat
ly folded the red slip of material and placed it back in the drawer, ‘but I don’t think so. If it is, it’s good. I’d pay for it.’
‘You’re more of an expert than I am,’ Jimmy said with a sigh. What the hell did this mean?
‘I’m going to have to go, Jimmy,’ Laura said with a glance at the dainty watch on her wrist. ‘I’m a bit late for work already.’
‘Sorry, Laura,’ he replied. ‘I’ve kept you. But thank you for having a look at her stuff.’
‘I don’t get the sense that it helps you much though, Jimmy,’ Laura said. ‘Probably more questions than answers.’
He showed Laura to the front door, thanking her again for dropping the phone off. She promised to give his number to Mr Dewar, her boss, who would almost certainly call him at some point that day. With a smile and a wave, she walked down the path and back to her car, leaving Jimmy alone with his thoughts. She had been right—more questions than answers.
Jimmy went back upstairs to get his iPad charger from the bedroom and plugged Milly’s phone in to charge in the kitchen. When he saw the thin outline of a battery on the screen, he put the phone down on the counter, pouring himself another coffee. It could be a long day, he thought as he made his way back into the lounge with his coffee. Sitting in the chair that Laura had been sitting in earlier, Jimmy thought back over the conversation that he, Gareth, and Big Joe had had the previous evening. To be fair, it was Gareth doing most of the talking while Joe nodded along, agreeing with him. Gareth’s plan was, as far as Jimmy could work out, sound but it should move things forward in a way that the police wouldn’t be able to, even if they were that bothered. In the kitchen, the sound of a faint vibration followed a dinging noise.
He got to his feet and walked into the kitchen. On the counter, the screen on Milly’s phone had come to life and was showing an illuminated Apple logo with a bar underneath it. Jimmy pulled one of his kitchen chairs over so he could sit down next to the phone without having to unplug it and waited for the iPhone to finish booting up.
Chapter 27
Gareth Dawson Series Box Set Page 49