Blood Line

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘What – without his car and no money? And we’ve no credit-card transactions. I don’t think he just walked out.’

  ‘You’re changing your tune?’

  ‘No. I am more than ever beginning to think he planned to go. Like I said, he had his parents on his back, he fell out with Tina – which is even more likely, now we know she was a sexpot and had had it away with all the members of the gym. We know he was a shy introverted man, someone who hated confrontations so he took the easy way . . .’

  They drew up at a small mews courtyard just off Chiswick High Road and parked outside Matthews Graphic Studio.

  They climbed up an exterior circular iron staircase that led onto a small balcony with sliding glass doors which in turn opened into the large studio space. Dan Matthews was working on a Mac as they approached. He was slender, wearing a T-shirt and skinny-legged jeans that made him look like a drainpipe. He had large horn-rimmed glasses on and his mousy brown hair was cut short at the sides and long on top.

  Anna knocked then entered and introduced herself and Paul, and thanked Dan for agreeing to see them. She went straight to the point of their visit, asking if he was aware that Alan Rawlins had disappeared.

  ‘Yes, I know. Tina has rung me a few times asking if I’ve seen him, but I haven’t for at least four months. It’s really awful.’ He looked at Paul. ‘Ever since you got in touch I’ve been trying to think of everything we talked about, the last time we met up. He used to come here quite often; I’ve helped him a couple of times with some drawings for personalising his cars. You know, he was very good at respraying motor bikes as well as cars.’

  ‘How did he seem to you when you last saw him?’

  ‘Same as always. We’ve been friends since schooldays. He went on to engineering college and I went to art school, but we always kept in touch. Maybe not so much recently.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘He got engaged and was caught up with Tina.’

  ‘Are you married?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you meet Tina?’

  ‘Just the once. We went out for dinner in order for me to meet her.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, she was not my type. She wasn’t interested in anything we talked about and she didn’t like the restaurant as she complained that she wasn’t keen on Chinese food. She had a few too many glasses of wine as well.’

  ‘So it wasn’t a good evening?’

  ‘No. It’s always difficult when you don’t get on with your best friend’s partner. It wasn’t that I disliked her, I just didn’t think she was the right choice for Alan. He was a bit agitated around her, wanting me to like her, I suppose, and although I never said anything to him we just didn’t see each other as regularly.’

  Dan’s eyes seemed large behind the horn-rimmed spectacles.

  ‘What has happened to him? His father has phoned me asking if I’ve heard anything from him. Mr Rawlins was very distressed; in fact, he broke down in tears.’

  ‘Yes, it’s very difficult, but we are attempting to trace him,’ said Anna.

  Paul looked around at the artwork on the walls. He nudged Anna. There was a large acrylic painting of Alan Rawlins on a surfboard and he went across to look at it more closely.

  ‘This is Alan, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. I did that after he brought me a photograph of when he was surfing in Cornwall. I thought I’d give it to him as a wedding present . . .’

  ‘Did he know you were working on it?’

  ‘Yes, and he was pleased. It’s also a very good likeness.’

  As Dan and Paul went and stood in front of the painting, Anna glanced around the studio. It was obvious why these two men would be friends: everything was neat and orderly, and Dan was clearly good at his job. She checked her watch.

  ‘I think we need to go, Paul.’

  Dan returned to stand beside her with his big, owl eyes blinking.

  ‘What do you think has happened to him?’

  ‘We’re trying to find out.’

  ‘But it’s been eight weeks! Surely he would have at least called his parents?’

  Anna turned to go down the stairs while Paul was shaking Dan’s hand, thanking him for his time.

  ‘Did you know his parents?’ Paul was asking.

  Anna sighed with irritation since Dan had already said Mr Rawlins had phoned him, so it was obvious that he did.

  ‘Yes. I was often round there when we were at school. My mother worked so I’d spend a lot of time with them. Alan’s mother always made us tea so my mum wouldn’t have to cook anything when I got home. It’s very sad what has happened to her as she was such a vibrant and fun-loving lady. Alan adored her. He was very concerned that taking care of her was too much for his father, and sometimes when he took his dad out he’d ask me to sit with her. They have a carer, but she leaves as soon as Mr Rawlins returns home and he’s become housebound as a result.’

  ‘Paul,’ Anna called, heading down the stairs. He eventually joined her outside the studio as she waited in the car.

  ‘Nice bloke,’ he said, getting in.

  ‘Yes, and easy to see why they would be friends.’ Anna stared out from the window of the passenger seat, feeling hungry. They just had the next interview to complete, and then she could have some lunch.

  ‘He’s gay.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  Paul turned out of the mews. ‘I said Dan Matthews is gay – he told me just as you left. He also said that Alan—’

  ‘Don’t tell me you were right?’

  ‘No, what he said to me was that when they were in the sixth form he told Alan that he knew he was homosexual and was terrified of it. Apparently, Alan told him that whatever he was he should keep private as it was his life and no one else’s.’

  Anna looked at Paul. ‘And . . .?’

  ‘Well, it was just such a grown-up thing for Alan to say and the fact is that they remained friends. Dan’s confession made no difference. The poor guy is really distressed; he was almost in tears when I left.’

  ‘You got all that very fast?’

  ‘Takes one to know one.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  Paul sighed and hit the steering wheel with the flat of his hand.

  ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know.’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘You must be the only person at the station who doesn’t know, not that I am in any way embarrassed – to the contrary.’

  ‘You’re gay?’

  ‘Ah, the penny finally dropped, has it, ma’am? Yes, I am.’

  She giggled. ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘Well, now you do. Did you think that Alan was playing for the opposite team?’

  Again she giggled. ‘No, I didn’t actually, but what do you think?’

  ‘I reckon he was straight. Well, Dan said he was and I don’t get the feedback that he was a closet. It was the painting that sort of gave me the hint about Matthews. Alan was bloody good-looking, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose he was.’

  Paul glanced at her. ‘You have a very infectious giggle, ma’am.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘In fact, it’s the first time I’ve heard it. Wondered what it takes to make you laugh.’

  Anna felt herself plunge into the void. It happened so quickly, she couldn’t speak; her heart hammered and it took a huge amount of control to straighten out and push the overriding panic down inside her.

  ‘After the next interview we should grab a bite to eat,’ she said.

  ‘Okay by me.’

  Paul didn’t even notice as he was concentrating on driving, but Anna’s face was drained of colour and her hands were so tightly clenched her knuckles were white.

  The next interview was with Julian Vickers, the manager of a small deli in Kilburn. The shop was stacked with all makes of cheeses and hams and imported Italian pasta, with a counter for takeaway sandwiches. Julian was a rather overweight young man with thinning hair and lovely blue eye
s, wearing a white apron, and he was at least six foot three. He was openly friendly, and Anna and Paul watched as he sliced some ham for an elderly lady. When she left Anna flipped the door sign to closed and apologised to Julian, saying she needed to talk to him in private but would not take up too much of his valuable time.

  ‘I have had calls from Al’s father, but I haven’t been in contact with Alan himself for five or six months. This is all terrible, and my wife and I were trying to remember everything that we discussed the last time he came over. I’ve known Al since we were at school, and in fact I make up a hamper every Christmas for his dad because he likes his cheese and a good port.’

  As he talked, Julian moved boxes of groceries off two chairs so they could sit down. He said that his friendship with Alan had been very important. His own family had suggested he was out of his mind to start a deli when he didn’t know the first thing about it, but Alan had lent him money to open up, and Julian had proved to be successful even if he did have to work around the clock.

  ‘So at this last meeting with Alan . . .?’

  ‘Right. Yes. He would sometimes come over on a Saturday night because I have Sundays off, and we’d try out all the new goods. The last time, we had some herrings marinated in ginger. God, they were bloody awful, made the eyes water.’ He laughed and then his face fell.

  ‘I know he was engaged, but he never brought his fiancée round, and often my wife would leave us alone to chat. We both worked out together – I may not look as if I do now, but we used to. We even ran marathons, which I couldn’t do now. I run to post a letter and I’m knackered.’

  ‘Did he give any indication the last time you met that anything was wrong?’

  ‘No. We mostly talked about the Mercedes he was doing up as I thought I had someone who would be interested. In fact, he didn’t stay all that long. He doesn’t drink like me, just the odd glass. He’s always been a fitness freak, but he said . . .’ Julian closed his eyes, genuinely upset.

  ‘I tell you something a bit odd. He had asked before then if I’d be his best man, but the last time I saw him, he never brought it up so I didn’t either. You never know, nowadays women come and they go, unlike my wife. I’ve been hoping she’d go for years.’

  He laughed and then said that it was a joke.

  ‘We’ve been married since I left college. We’re expecting twins, which was something else me and Alan spoke about. Well, it’s going to be a big financial situation for me and as always he said that if I needed anything, like a few thousand, he was good for it.’

  Julian took out a handkerchief; his stunning blue eyes were full of tears, all jokes forgotten.

  ‘I hope to God nothing bad has happened to him. He was one of the best people I know. Nothing was too much trouble for him, and as I said, he helped me start up . . .’

  ‘Do you think he could or would just take off and disappear?’ Anna asked. ‘That maybe being a Good Samaritan became too much for him?’

  Paul glanced at Anna. It was on the nail and Julian was already showing signs of distress.

  ‘No. I personally could not think of any reason why he would do that. I know he worried about his parents, but he was earning good money. Although . . .’

  Anna and Paul waited. Julian blew his nose and then tucked his handkerchief into his pocket.

  ‘In all the years I have known Alan he was like a Samaritan – I’ll give you that – but he was a genuine caring person. You could look at this big blonde handsome guy and think he’d be a real arsehole, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was shy, never self-opinionated. I often wondered if there was another side to him, but I never saw it.’

  ‘Or was it just he never showed it to you?’

  ‘You find anyone with a bad word against him and it’d surprise me. I think he was the product of a very loving home. Any time you wanted, his mother would welcome you in, cook up a storm, and their house was always full of kids whose parents were not at home or working. His dad was terrific, arranging outings, packing us into his old Volvo, sometimes taking us off to Brighton funfair. He seemed to have an inside knowledge of the best fairs – Clapham Common, Wimbledon, Putney . . .’

  Anna stood up and thanked Julian, but he wasn’t prepared to let them leave his deli without making up a packed lunch of thick-wedged sandwiches and potato salad with sauerkraut, refusing to allow them to pay.

  Anna and Paul parked at the back of Julian’s deli in a small side street so they could tuck in and enjoy their lunch without being seen by the public. Paul ate hungrily, but Anna just picked at hers, her appetite gone. They had been given two bottles of a chilled ginger and elderflower drink as well, which was delicious. For a while they ate in silence.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Paul eventually asked.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t keep asking me that.’

  ‘Okay – do you want to know what I am thinking?’

  ‘If I said no, would it stop you?’

  Paul took a big bite of the sandwich. He had mayonnaise dripping down his chin and he used one of the paper napkins to wipe it off.

  ‘Well, go on.’ She folded her own half-eaten sandwich back into its wrapping.

  ‘I’ll finish that off if you’re through with it?’

  She passed it to him.

  ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’ Paul said, staring straight ahead as Anna drank from her bottle before screwing the cap back on.

  ‘We don’t know that. What we need to do is find someone who saw the other side of Alan Rawlins, because so far I think it’s all too good to be true. No one is that perfect. He will have secrets – maybe dark ones. So in answer to your question, we need to find out what made this Samaritan disappear because, as I said last time, I don’t believe he is dead.’

  Chapter Three

  The last interview of the day was at Tina’s salon in Hounslow High Street. She had agreed to see them again on the condition they came late in the afternoon just before closing as she had appointments booked.

  ‘Her fiancé goes missing and she’s too busy to see us. The more I hear about her, the less I like her.’

  ‘Maybe she’s seen the dark side?’ Paul said smiling, but Anna was not amused. Instead she told him they should head straight there. She felt tired and decided she would take off home later, after making up the reports with Paul in their incident room.

  ‘Make up a report? But we don’t have a case,’ Paul said as he drove.

  ‘Nevertheless we’ll need to show what the hell we’ve been doing all day. Besides, Langton will want to know.’

  ‘Whatever you say, ma’am. He’s knee-deep in a big case – double murder in North London.’

  She made no reply, instead brushed away the crumbs from their picnic lunch and wrapped their napkins into the small deli bag Julian had provided. She tossed it into a rubbish bin as they pulled up in a small car park attached to Tina’s Beauty Salon. She remarked that it wasn’t a very artistic title and the large neon eye coated in eye-shadow and false lashes was tacky.

  The salon was surprisingly well-equipped. A section was given over to hairdressing, then there was a row of booths for manicures and pedicures. Another section, separated by white screens, was the massage and therapy area and there was a small staircase to the floor above with a sauna, sunbeds and spray-tanning room. A notice informed them that the sunbeds were out of order. The place was jumping. Four women sat under dryers, a girl was blowdrying a customer’s hair and another was having her hair washed at the row of sinks.

  ‘Well, she said she was busy,’ Paul murmured as they stood by a small reception desk. The receptionist was a girl with a fake tan, a mound of hair extensions and thick false eyelashes. It also looked as if she’d had breast implants. Her pink Tina’s Salon overall hardly met across her bust, colliding with her name embroidered over the pocket – Felicity.

  ‘Could you ask Tina if we could see her, please?’ Anna showed her warrant card, not that it made much of a difference.

  ‘Do you have an appoin
tment?’

  ‘We do.’

  Felicity dragged a fake nail down the customer lists.

  ‘Just go and tell her we would like to talk to her,’ Anna ordered.

  ‘I can’t leave the desk and she’s doing a wrap so I can’t interrupt her for another ten minutes.’

  Anna was not sure what a wrap meant, but Felicity continued, explaining it was a seaweed wrap and would be finished shortly. She then indicated a row of pink plastic-covered gilt chairs.

  ‘You can wait there.’

  They were only two feet away from the reception; it looked as if every inch of the place was taken up with all the various beauty treatments. As Anna and Paul sat down the girl offered the salon’s brochure and said there were several offers at half-price.

  ‘Do you know her boyfriend, Alan?’ Anna asked as she pretended to scrutinise the treatments on offer.

  ‘Yes, we all do and it’s just terrible. Poor Tina has been in such a state about it.’ Her pink desk phone rang and Felicity picked up, speaking in an over-modulated posh accent.

  ‘Tina’s Beauty Salon, can I help you?’

  Anna and Paul listened as she made an appointment for hair extensions and learned that it would take at least four hours if it was to remove the present extensions; it would take longer if the caller required new ones.

  Anna glanced at Paul, but he seemed enthralled by Felicity’s ongoing conversation.

  ‘If we didn’t actually put your extensions in for you, you should come in and have the hair matched. We only use real hair. No, there would be no charge for that, but is what you’ve got in real hair?’

  The row of customers waiting for their cuts and blowdries began to thin out; the two girls were working as if they were on a factory floor. The thudding music, now on an Abba compilation, continued.

  ‘I’ll book you in for an afternoon then. What’s your name?’ Then Felicity looked at the pink phone in fury. ‘I don’t believe she hung up! Honestly!’

  ‘Could you please ask Tina to join us?’ Anna said testily.

  ‘I can’t. It’s a seaweed wrap and you can’t leave it half-done.’

  Anna stood up and pointed to the partition. ‘Is she behind there?’