Silent Victim(29)

But the expression on Theresa’s face told me she was not convinced. ‘And the face in the window? Aren’t you worried about that?’

I was, more than she could ever know. I didn’t know which was more frightening, the thought that Luke had been to my home, or the prospect that I was losing my mind.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ALEX





2017


In the former market man’s pub, the smell of Theakston’s ale carried me back to the days when I sat here with my father. He had brought me here on my eighteenth birthday to proudly buy me my first pint. I didn’t much like the taste of it back then, but now that I was a father myself, I had come to understand the importance of the ritual. I could almost feel his presence as I sat amongst the shiny copper fixtures. Situated in Leeds city centre, Whitelock’s location gave it an olde worlde feel and a unique charm. I could almost hear my father’s voice, telling me to drink up as he set the world to rights. A pang of grief touched my soul. I wished he were here to advise me. But I was the man of the house now and tonight I had to be strong. Perhaps that was why I had texted Luke Priestwood instead of ringing and asked him to meet me here, in a public place. A small part of me hoped my dad would be here in spirit, providing me with some much-needed moral support. Could the person I was meeting be the same man who had terrorised my wife? I had to know. But how on earth was I going to broach the subject? I raised my glass to my lips. Alcohol was a good tongue loosener and, after the week I’d had, I needed a drink or two. Thoughts of Emma floated into my mind and I found myself dialling her number.

‘Everything OK? I’m just ringing to say goodnight to Jamie.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, hun, he’s fast asleep,’ Emma said, her voice light and cheerful. ‘He didn’t have an afternoon nap so he went down early. I’ll tell him you called when he wakes up in the morning. How’s things?’

‘Great. You should see my new office. It’s three times bigger than my old one and has cracking views of the city. I can’t wait for you to get here.’ I smiled, pressing my hand against my ear to drown out the noise of my fellow drinkers.

‘I’ve started packing some stuff already. Are you out? Sounds like you’re in a pub.’

‘Just having a few drinks with my new colleagues. They’re a good bunch. I won’t stay out too long.’ We both danced around the elephant in the room. I wanted to ask if anything else had happened to make her worry – and if she had eaten today. But if she hadn’t, she was hardly likely to tell me over the phone. I sighed, feeling the distance between us.

‘Enjoy yourself, you deserve it. I love you,’ she said, and I was just about to respond when my eyes were drawn to the door.

Somehow, I knew the man who had just walked in was Luke Priestwood. Looking from left to right, his eyes scanned the pub as he tried to find me. He was slightly shorter than me, with light-chestnut hair. I found myself sizing him up, assessing his strength. He was sinewy but not as broad as me. I could take him if I had to. I caught his eye, desperate to end my call. It felt wrong, talking to Emma while I was doing this. If he was the person I thought he was then the last thing I wanted was Emma hearing his voice. ‘I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

It was only after I’d hung up that I realised I had forgotten to say I loved her too. There was no time to dwell, though, as he joined me.

‘Mr Priestwood, is it?’ I said cautiously, bracing myself as I rose from my seat. For all I knew the guy could be ready to pull a knife on me. My muscles tensed. I was ready for him if he tried.

But his expression was not that of someone who wanted to fight. He shuffled nervously before me, dipping his hand into his jacket pocket and pulling out his wallet. ‘It is. Can I get you a drink?’

‘No, thanks,’ I said, pointing to my half-empty pint glass. I felt guilty enough just talking to him, never mind accepting drinks. I eyed him up as he leaned against the old-fashioned wooden bar. He was dressed casually in jeans and a jacket, his shirt pressed. Despite having been neatly folded, my Lacoste shirt still had creases from my overnight bag. I caught myself. Why was I comparing myself to this man? Because I was jealous of his former relationship with my wife? Had there been a relationship? From how Emma had described it, she had been easy prey.

A pint was laid in front of me, snapping me out of my thoughts. Luke delivered a half smile. ‘I asked the barman for the same again. I figured we might be here for some time.’

I nodded, unable to bring myself to thank the man before me. ‘What’s this all about?’ I said, before his backside had rested on his seat. ‘Because you didn’t contact me to buy property, did you?’

‘No,’ Luke sighed. ‘It’s a long story. One with a sting in the tail.’ He sank back a mouthful of his pint. ‘I’ve not come here to make trouble. I’ve told myself a million times to walk away. But then I heard Emma was moving to Leeds.’

‘I don’t understand,’ I said. I felt my grip tighten around my glass. Our meeting was getting more surreal by the minute. Just what was going on?

‘I live in York,’ Luke said. ‘But sometimes I come to Leeds.’

‘Why did you call me? Why don’t you get to the point?’ I said, my anger simmering beneath the surface. It was difficult to equate the man before me with the person Emma had described. He looked harmless, like any bloke down the pub. How could this be the man Emma had been driven to kill? Something awful must have happened to push her to such an extreme. I lowered my gaze, determined to keep my emotions in check.