The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(69)

‘And worse, that creep Ralph Doolan is definitely off the hook. His friend, well, his alibi, has surfaced, and swears they were in a Peterborough club that night.’

‘Proof?’

‘True to form, our Ralphie made a pass at a barmaid. He was thrown out and barred. Apparently it’s on record.’

‘Wonderful. Just wonderful.’

They walked back to the CID room. Rosie told Jackman he had a call, and he hurried off to take it.

Marie sat down at her desk, wondering where all this was going. Her phone ringing broke into her thoughts.

‘Thanks for being there today, Marie.’

‘No, thank you, Carter. I felt privileged. And I met a new friend, so that was nice.’

‘Silas?’

‘Oh, him too. It was Klink I was thinking of.’

Carter laughed. ‘That really was a first. You have no idea how honoured you are. He can be a devil with strangers.’

‘Silas?’

‘No! Klink!’

They both laughed again. For the first time in ages, Carter sounded easy and natural. Getting the Eva May back where she belonged seemed to have calmed him. Before she could say anything more, Rosie hurried over and pushed a scribbled note in front of her.

She nodded at Rosie and told Carter she’d ring him back.

‘Something going down?’ asked Carter.

‘Alan Pitt has just rung the DI. He says he’s on his way in to see us. He’s remembered something else.’

There was a short silence before Carter spoke. ‘Then let’s hope it’s something that will get things moving at last. Keep me up to speed, won’t you? Speak later.’

Marie hurried over to Jackman. ‘Did he say any more than that?’

Jackman shook his head. ‘He wants to speak to us privately.’

‘Now we know that Ponytail wasn’t Ralph, this could be very interesting.’

Jackman looked worried. ‘Actually I’m terrified. Aren’t you?’

*

Sam could not settle. The afternoon was hot, and even an hour in his favourite bird hide failed to hold his attention.

Sam had retired willingly from a life of research. He had had enough of the academic world, and had chosen instead to become a simple birdwatcher, a lover of wildlife and a gardener. He spent hours watching the visitors to his wild garden feeding, pollinating or simply resting in the shade.

But now he was back in his office, surrounded once more by books and papers. He had been reluctant to return to the dusty room and the dustier tomes it held. But Sam wanted to be there for Laura Archer.

She had been his best student, his shining star. Sam had never had children, but if he had, he would have wanted a daughter like Laura. Gradually, he had become a father figure for her, especially since he’d retired and she had embarked on her own career.

Sam smiled, rather smugly. He was proud to have put her on the right path. She was a very good psychologist, and her work on trauma was already well respected.

His own field had been memory, in all its different forms. It had fascinated him since his schooldays, and although he was now more involved with social communication among starlings, it still did.

Sam thought about his meeting with the infamous Carter. It had left him confused.

He now understood a little of Laura’s problem. Without a doubt, Carter was a very charismatic man, even in his agitated state. He exhibited both strength and weakness at the same time. The look in his eyes pleaded for your help, and then he withdrew and locked you out.

Sam Page, Professor of Psychology at University College, London, Fellow of the British Psychological Society, and highly respected author of over 600 scientific papers found himself totally at a loss.

Laura had said she was missing something, and now he knew exactly what she meant.

He was also pretty sure that it would be up to him to find out what that something was. With a grunt of annoyance, he went back to his studies.

*

Jackman and Marie tried hard to appear calm, but the interview room almost crackled with nervous tension.

‘I woke up very early, around four, and found myself thinking back to the night that woman went missing.’

Jackman knew they shouldn’t hurry Alan, but he desperately wanted him to get to the point.

‘I remember walking along the towpath worrying about my dog. If I were to die, I mean. I knew my wife would look after him, but I do all the walking, and he needs his walks.’ He paused. ‘That was when I realised I wasn’t alone.’

‘The man with the ponytail and another man,’ Marie prompted.

‘Yes, and then I remembered what one of them said — well, some of it anyway.’

Jackman leaned forward.

‘I heard him mention a name. Not a person’s name . . .’

Jackman stifled a curse.

‘It was a place name. Amsterdam.’

Jackman straightened in his chair. He felt Marie tense beside him. ‘What about Amsterdam?’

‘One of them said, “And we must still go to Amsterdam.” Then the other seemed to remonstrate with him, hence the heated conversation. That was when I decided to slope off.’ He looked at them apologetically. ‘I’m sorry it’s no more than that, but I suppose it might help?’

Jackman wasn’t sure if help was the right word, but it certainly pointed in a very definite direction. The five friends were going to Amsterdam.