Seven Days(33)

‘Exactly,’ Martin Cooper said. ‘And he would have been gone longer but someone found him and brought him home.’

‘That’s fortunate,’ Wynne said. ‘Better than having him stagger around the streets. He was lucky to run into someone so responsible. Not everyone is that civic-minded these days, especially when it comes to teenage boys.’

‘He was a teacher,’ Martin said. ‘So he wasn’t scared of fourteen-year-old boys. It was an odd coincidence, actually. I knew him. He was Sandra’s maths teacher in school. Mr Best.’

Wynne almost missed it. She had not been fully paying attention; she was going out that evening – a rare occurrence – with someone she had met at the gym. Wynne was having a coffee after a spinning class; the woman had been in the class and, afterwards, had sat at her table and pointed at the coffee.

That won’t re-hydrate you, she said.

It might give me some energy, Wynne replied, aware that she was still red-faced and sweating, whereas the woman – Nicky, it turned out – was showered and dressed and fully composed.

Try one of these. She had a bright green antioxidant fruit shake. It’s a great boost.

Wynne shook her head. Coffee, for me, she said.

Want to meet for one? the woman asked. Or a real drink?

And they were meeting tonight.

She paused.

‘Best?’ she said. ‘Late fifties? Balding? Metallic glasses?’

‘Yes,’ Martin said. ‘You know him?’

‘I do.’

‘Did he teach you?’

He didn’t, but Wynne knew she couldn’t say how she knew Best. An unproven allegation of interest in underage girls – Wynne happened to believe it, but that was irrelevant – was not something she could share with the general public. It was slander.

It was also a coincidence.

And Wynne did not like coincidences.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘It’s a small town. I’ve come across him a few times. He seems a pleasant man.’ She hesitated. ‘I was wondering whether you would be OK with me talking to James? About the night he was brought home?’

‘Why?’ Martin said. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Probably nothing,’ Wynne said. ‘But it’s better to be thorough.’

There was a silence on the line. ‘Then feel free,’ he said.





2


James sat on the couch. His hands were folded in his lap, his fingers moving nervously.

‘Am I in trouble?’ he said. ‘For underage drinking?’

‘Not with me,’ Wynne replied. ‘Although I imagine your mum and dad aren’t too pleased.’

He sat back on the couch. ‘Then what is it?’

‘I want to talk to you about what happened that night. Why don’t you take me through it?’

‘Is someone else in trouble? For selling us alcohol?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not really interested in that kind of thing. And I can promise you I won’t do anything with any information you give me. I want you to speak as freely as possible.’

‘OK.’ He paused. ‘Me and Andy went – we went to see a film. We saw Pirates of the Caribbean. Andy had some White Lightning cider and he snuck it in. We drank it and we were pretty loud – laughing, that kind of thing – and the usher kicked us out. So we went to the park, and on the way we bought some Mad Dog—’

‘Mad Dog?’ Wynne said.

‘It’s a drink: MD twenty-twenty. We call it Mad Dog. It’s cheap.’

‘And you drank it in the park?’

He nodded. ‘We bought four bottles. I drank a bit more than Andy, I think.’

‘And then what?’

‘I was sick, and I lay down by the roundabout. Andy said we should go home and after that I don’t really remember anything until I woke up at home.’

‘And Mr Best?’ She leaned forward. ‘Do you remember seeing him?’

‘No. I think I’d passed out before he showed up.’

‘You didn’t see him before you passed out? In the park?’

‘No. Why would I? Has he done something?’

Wynne shook her head. ‘Just checking.’ She got to her feet. ‘Thank you, James. That was very helpful. I can see myself out.’





3


DI Wynne walked up to Best’s front door and rang the doorbell. She stepped back and waited.

It opened a few moments later. Best looked at her. He was dressed in a pair of old jeans with grass stains on the knees and a loose-fitting sweater. He folded his arms.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘You again. How can I help you this time?’

‘I have some questions.’

‘I’ve given you all the information I have.’ Best shook his head. ‘What’s your name again? I’ve a mind to report you. This is tantamount to police harass—’

Wynne glanced around then shoved him hard in the chest. He stumbled backwards and she stepped into the hall. She shut the front door, her heart beating hard in her chest, and swung her right foot hard into his shin. There was a loud crack. Best bent over, his hand clutching at his damaged leg.

‘You shut the fuck up,’ she said. ‘And listen to me.’