‘Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir.’
When he had gone, Julie Shapiro said, ‘You’re not fooling me and you’re certainly not fooling Detective Constable Waters. He isn’t frightened of you at all.’
‘That’s just one of the problems with the young of today. No respect for age and authority.’
‘Today? I doubt whether it has ever been any different. Would you like another cup of tea?’
‘No, thank you.’
Perhaps it was the knowledge that Jacobs had gone, but some of the tautness had left her face. She stared down at her hands and then up towards Smith.
‘Is Mark going to prison?’
‘I really can’t say, Julie.’
‘No, but you seem like a very experienced sort of policeman to me. You could give me your opinion, without prejudice, obviously.’
To be fair, it was a question he had been expecting at some point.
‘He has been arrested this afternoon, as an accessory after the fact. Do you know what that means?’
She nodded, and he could see that she understood enough. She said, ‘And this is to do with the man whose body was found at Barnham?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are other people that I know involved?’
‘Almost certainly.’
It was a long time before she said, ‘All those years ago and still it goes on. I was born with a voice, that’s all, and it leads to this. How is that possible? Why does the past always become a curse?’
Smith didn’t know her well enough to attempt an answer. Instead, he said, ‘It’s my guess that Mark will be given police bail tomorrow or the day after, once certain operations have been concluded. He’ll be here with you for several months at least. If he does receive a prison sentence, it shouldn’t be a long one.’
‘Thank you. He didn’t want any of this. It’s not his fault. He was a rugby player, a really good one. When he was injured, he started coaching, and he was good at that, too. He gave it up to come here for me. My brother’s son, you know…’
Her voice trailed away, and he could see that she was exhausted. He looked from her out through the window. The sun was close to the level horizon of the marshes, and the fringes of the clouds above it had caught fire – it was going to be a spectacular sunset.
He said, ‘Julie, sit in the comfortable chair and watch the sun go down. Constable Waters and I will be around until Marjorie gets here.’
She smiled at his apparent faith in the goodness of others, but she got up and he took her arm as she walked unsteadily to the chair that faced the western sky.
When he heard Waters coming up the stairs again, he went out to meet him on the landing. Waters told him that the arrests had been made, and that Fisher had broken down almost immediately – he was already talking to Detective Inspector Terek as they drove him back to Kings Lake. There was now a patrol car outside with two officers from Hunston, and Marjorie Harris was on her way.
They went down and waited for her in the bar. When she arrived, and still in her raincoat, she went straight up to Julie Shapiro, followed by Smith. From the doorway, she spoke Julie’s name quietly but there was no answer. She went across the room to the chair by the window, looked and then whispered to Smith, ‘Asleep.’
She knew where to find a blanket and placed it over the sleeping figure. When they were back downstairs, Marjorie Harris said, ‘I’ve brought my things. She can’t be left alone with what’s going on, and her starting the treatment only this week as well.’
Smith looked at Waters and said, ‘Treatment?’
‘She didn’t tell you? No, of course not. Too proud. But didn’t you notice how pale she is? Chemotherapy, for leukaemia. I’ve told her, it’ll get worse before it gets better but she doesn’t listen – still off wandering about the marshes every day. Anyway, I’ll do what I can.’
With a shake of the head, Smith said to her, ‘Dear God, as if the poor woman hasn’t suffered enough. It’s a good thing you’re here.’
Marjorie Harris was taking off her raincoat now.
‘Well, if you believe in that sort of thing at all, sergeant, I expect it was the Dear God who told you to send for me…’
Smith glanced at Waters, a little taken aback by the thought that he had become a divine instrument, but before he could respond, Marjorie was speaking again.
‘Now, there’s good food going to waste in the kitchen, and the time’s getting on. Can I get you gentlemen anything to eat?’
© Peter Grainger 2017 All rights reserved
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Peter Grainger
TOCTable of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Time and Tide: A DC Smith Investigation Page 40