The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(36)

Robbie poured the wine and took a sip. Not bad at all. He handed Harvey his glass, and then sat down on an oversized bean bag.

‘You must be pretty desperate to come here, what did you say your name was?’

‘Robbie. And, yeah, pretty desperate.’

‘Why me and not her next model? Er, Tom what’s-his-name.’

‘He’s dead, Harvey. Tom Holland was killed in a plane crash.’

‘Trying to get away from her, was he?’

‘No. Although I understand from our files that he was not living at home when she went missing.’

‘No surprise.’ He took a long slug of his wine. ‘So, what about her creepy brother? He was always hanging around her. He could probably tell you more than anyone.’

Robbie looked at him. What brother? How come he wasn’t mentioned anywhere? How many more surprises was he going to uncover about Suzanne Holland?

‘He’s a new one on me, Harv. Who is he?’

Harvey puffed out his cheeks. ‘Ah, well, can’t say I remember. They had different surnames, but she called him . . . Oh, yes, Ralphie. That’s right, Ralph Dolan!’

Robbie scribbled the name into his notebook. ‘Why did you say he was creepy?’

‘Had that pervy look to him. Not the kind of guy you’d leave alone with anyone, not even your dog.’

‘Do you know where he is now?’

‘Rotting in hell with his half-sister, hopefully.’

‘He’s dead?’

Harvey grinned wickedly. ‘Sorry, just wishful thinking. I have no idea where he is.’

‘But you do think she is dead?’

‘I really do hope so.’

Robbie sipped his wine. He was beginning to feel almost mellow, and at least he had a new name to chase up when he got back. ‘I hate to do this to you, mate, but could we talk about why I’ve come here?’

The smile vanished.

‘Okay.’ Harvey sighed. ‘Have another drink, Robbie. Then sit back and I’ll tell you all about the lovely Suzanne . . .’

*

That night Carter slept until four in the morning. He woke to see the lone figure of Tom, sitting at the foot of his bed. The stench was appalling.

‘Tom?’ He eased himself up and rested on his elbow, trying to focus on his friend. ‘Well, I guess it’s finally your turn, mate.’

The figure slowly faded. Carter stared into the darkness, a single word ringing in his ears.

Suzanne.





CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Sir!’ Charlie called across the CID room. ‘I’ve got a man on the line here, who might have some new information about Suzanne Holland!’

Jackman hurried over to Charlie’s desk, and took the receiver. ‘Detective Inspector Jackman here. I believe you have some information regarding the Holland disappearance?’

‘My name is Alan Pitt. I’ve been working away from home for a while, but I’ve had to come back to receive a course of hospital treatment. That’s where I saw the TV appeal for witnesses. I’m due to be discharged tomorrow morning.’ There was a throaty cough, then Pitt said, ‘I think I saw something that night.’

‘We’ll come and talk to you, sir. What hospital are you in?’

‘Lincoln, but I’d appreciate it if I could be allowed to finish my treatment first. It’s pretty exhausting. Isn’t this what you call a “cold case?” Surely it can keep for one more day.’

It sounded like the man was in the oncology unit, so Jackman did not insist. ‘Of course, sir. Shall we see you at your home, or would you prefer to come here?’

‘I’ll come to the station. I’ll make it as early as I can, unless there is any holdup here.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Jackman paused. ‘Can I just ask, did you actually see something happen?’

‘I saw two men acting strangely on the towpath, at the spot described in the appeal.’

‘I know this is a long shot. It was a long time ago. But do you think you would recognise either of them if you saw them again?’

‘Funnily enough, yes. Well, one of them. He reminded me of my cousin.’ There was another bout of coughing. ‘I need to go, but I’ll come in tomorrow.’

Jackman took his details and thanked him. ‘Charlie, go inform the desk sergeant about this man, and tell him to call CID the moment he arrives.’

Charlie hurried off.

A lead! It sounded like a valid one too. Jackman turned and saw Marie looking at him expectantly. ‘Well, let’s just hope he’s got an eidetic memory, and is a descriptive genius!’

Marie raised her eyebrows. ‘Let’s not get too excited. Most people can’t recall someone they saw two hours ago, let alone eighteen months. I reckon it’s a very long shot indeed. Still, Orac tells me there’s much better software available these days.’

Jackman nodded, and shivered slightly at the mention of Orac.

Orla Cracken, known to everyone simply as Orac, was a computer wizard who ruled her underground domain with a rod of iron.

Jackman was terrified of her.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Maybe we should pin our hopes on Robbie, and hope he has some luck with Suzanne’s ex in Spain.’

‘He’s a really good copper, isn’t he?’ said Marie. ‘I mean totally dedicated.’