See How They Run (22 page)

H
arry was stunned
, and didn’t mind Keri knowing it.
Ruth had been in prison …

After being granted permission to sit at the far end of the sofa, he said, ‘Ruth just tried to persuade me not to talk to you. Now I can see why.’

Once he was seated, the tension in the room eased a little. Keri gathered up the fallen money, shuffled the notes into a neat bundle and handed them back to him. Then she sat down, carefully placing the baton within easy reach.

‘Who are you, anyway? You’re not police. And not her toyboy, surely?’ This last was said with a caustic smile.

He proceeded to explain what had happened to his family over the past three days. The mention of Renshaw’s name brought a little gasp of recognition, but she gestured for him to carry on. He rushed through his story, concluding with Ruth’s sudden disappearance last night.

‘She wants to meet me later today, but first I need to know why she was in prison.’

‘I can only tell you what I managed to pry out of Greg. She beat someone up, left them in a coma. As for who, or why, he couldn’t say any more than that.’

‘Couldn’t – or wouldn’t?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘What does it matter?’

‘Just wondering if … well, if Greg had a reason to portray her in a bad light.’

‘Playing the old sympathy routine to get me into bed?’ Her eyes flashed mischievously. ‘You’re forgetting how I pay my bills. Greg didn’t have to tell me a thing. If you’re asking whether he had his own secrets, yeah, I’m sure he did. But I can’t blame him for being reluctant to discuss his ex-wife. Her ending up in jail wasn’t exactly easy for him.’

‘I bet it wasn’t. Did they have kids?’

‘No. They’d tried for years. I suspect Greg wanted them a lot more than Ruth did.’

‘Right.’ Harry had to clear his throat before his next question. ‘So, um, when you slept with him, was it a, uh, professional transaction?’

‘Did I fuck him for money? Actually, at first I did. I found out later that paying for it made him feel less guilty.’

‘Why? Hadn’t he split from Ruth by then?’

She snorted. ‘It wasn’t that. He was guilty about trying to use me to get to Laird.’

H
arry rested
his head back while he tried to assimilate all this new information. Keri regarded him solemnly.

‘She’s bad news, Harry. I don’t just mean the prison thing. It’s the pressure she put on Greg, even after they split up. Nathan Laird was her obsession, and being behind bars didn’t reduce that one bit. She made sure it became Greg’s obsession, too.’

‘But why? What is it about Laird … ?’

‘Some sort of grudge, going back years, that’s all I know.’

‘Didn’t you ask Greg?’

‘Of course. He said it wouldn’t be fair to tell me. Whether he meant fair to me, or fair to Ruth …’ She threw out her hands, at a loss to explain. ‘Ever since she was released, at the end of last year, she’s been trying to track me down. She won’t take no for an answer.’

‘But why? I mean, why does she keep pursuing you – assuming it’s not bitterness over you and Greg?’

‘She’s convinced that I’m holding back on her.’

‘But if you knew anything significant, surely you’d have already told Greg?’

‘Well, I was far from happy that he’d deceived me. But yeah, he was a good guy, and I would’ve helped him if I could. The fact is, I couldn’t: simple as that. He accepted it right away, but Ruth … I don’t understand why, but she won’t leave me alone.’ Her voice choked and she sniffed, laced her fingers together and twisted them back and forth. ‘Times like this I really wish I still smoked.’

S
he offered Harry a drink
, and when he asked for water she fetched a glass for herself as well. As Keri returned to the sofa, he realised he was averting his gaze every time she crossed or uncrossed her legs.

He asked: ‘The stuff she told me about Laird, is that all true?’

‘Pretty much. He has a whole range of business interests, some less legal than others.’

‘Including the escorting?’

‘Yeah, but even that’s conducted at a pretty exclusive level, so it isn’t likely to bother the authorities.’ She sat forward. ‘I can’t tell you about Laird’s early years, but if he was still involved in drugs, robberies – heavy-duty stuff – I think there would be far more official interest in him. More than just poor old Greg, snooping around to keep his ex-wife off his back.’

‘So what kind of information was Greg looking for? Did he want Laird’s address? His financial records? What?’

‘All of that. Where he lived, whether he was in contact with any of his family. Who he trusted. I think Ruth wanted anything she could get.’

Harry’s next question was about Renshaw. He was shocked to learn that the man was genuinely a doctor.

‘The girls operate mostly on their own, or maybe in pairs,’ Keri explained. ‘They work out of rented apartments in practically every big town in East Anglia, as well as further afield, in London, Manchester, Birmingham. Renshaw’s job was to take care of their medical needs – contraception, regular testing for STIs, that sort of thing. I knew of one or two who had drug problems when they started, and Renshaw helped them get clean.’

Harry shook his head, mystified. ‘With what Ruth has told me about Laird, I’d wondered if he was involved in trafficking. You hear so much about women being brought over from Eastern Europe …’

‘And it happens,’ Keri said. ‘It’s slavery and torture, and the men responsible ought to be going away for life, rather than the pathetic sentences they get at the moment.’

She took a sip of water, a quick smile acknowledging her vehemence on the issue.

‘But the women who worked for Laird were mostly British, along with a few Europeans: Spanish, French, Scandinavian. There was no coercion – or not that I saw. And, for the most part, they looked after us.’

She gave him another smile, but it was uneasy, almost a grimace.

‘So why did you leave, if it was such a good set-up?’

‘Lots of reasons.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘For one thing, I needed a break. And I had a dissertation to write. So …’

She shrugged. Harry felt there was more to come, so he pushed gently.

‘And Laird was okay about you leaving?’

‘He was fine with it. Completely fine.’

A
nother silence
. This time Harry waited, said nothing, and finally she spoke again.

‘If you must know, I got pregnant, about a year ago.’ She issued a long, thoughtful sigh. ‘Occupational hazard.’

‘Really? You just mentioned contraception—’

‘Condoms split. The pill isn’t a hundred per cent effective. I’d had a tummy bug around the time it happened, so maybe that was the reason.’

‘And what did you … ?’

‘I didn’t.’ She swallowed, a little too heavily. ‘Miscarried, at seven weeks. Afterwards … well, I was in no state to work. It seemed like the right time to get out. So I did. Ran home to Mum with a story of a relationship gone sour, licked my wounds for a couple of months, then got myself together.’

‘So why come back? Especially if this is Laird’s territory?’

‘I like this part of the world. It’s been my home for most of my adult life. And I have nothing to fear from Laird.’

A slight wobble in her voice made him frown. ‘You’re sure about that?’

‘Look, there was hardly any risk in talking to Greg, because I trusted him to be discreet. But Ruth would sell me out in a heartbeat. If she comes near me, and then they get to hear about it, I’m finished.’

A
lice pushed
Renshaw on what he meant – how had her presence changed things? – but he wouldn’t be drawn. Her attempts to get an explanation were hampered by Evie as she became more and more agitated, her little feet pummelling her mother’s body.

They’d skirted the fields that lay behind Nerys’s home, the muddy path becoming sticky as it thawed. Now they were entering the copse of trees. Very quickly the light dimmed; the breeze dying away beneath the golden-brown canopy of leaves.

The trees were mostly beech, tall and wide with smooth grey bark. They walked over a thick carpet of fallen leaves, the surface dry and crunchy with a layer of mulch beneath. At the first clearing Alice stopped to focus on Evie, who was still writhing and complaining loudly. She lifted her out of the carrier and sniffed.

‘I need to change her nappy.’

Renshaw looked set to object, but nodded instead. ‘Very well.’

Shrugging off the coat she’d borrowed, Alice laid it on the ground and set Evie down on top of it. As she undid the pramsuit, Renshaw grunted unhappily and backed away, as if the noise and smells emanating from this little creature were more than he could bear.

Well, tough
, Alice thought. She was growing equally weary of Renshaw.

After changing the nappy, she bagged it up, and said, ‘You don’t trust Nerys, but what is it you think she’s going to do? Betray you to Laird?’

‘I … I would not go that far.’ He was kicking idly at a pile of leaves, his hands thrust in his pockets like a bored adolescent. ‘The son, Michael … he has the eyes of a predator, does he not?’

He has his mother’s eyes
, Alice thought, but she opted not to say so. She lifted Evie up, kissed her gratefully for co-operating, and placed her back in the carrier. Then she picked up the bag with the soiled nappy.

‘I’ll take this back with me,’ she said, in answer to Renshaw’s frown. ‘Unless we find a bin.’

‘Here.’ Before she could react, he had taken it from her, only to turn and fling it into the undergrowth. She let out a cry of protest, and he raised his hands to placate her. ‘There are more important things to consider.’

‘I know that. Don’t lecture me.’ A moment of angry silence. ‘Look, why don’t we just pack up and go? Isn’t that the best option for both of us?’

‘Is it?’ He turned, looking coldly amused. ‘For both of us?’

‘Yes.’ She refused to be taunted. ‘What are you worried about, really?’

H
e gave a slow blink
, studying her carefully. ‘You are an intelligent woman. I see that now.’

It was such a patronising comment that Alice could only laugh, a reaction which Renshaw interpreted as a modest denial.

‘I mean it. What did you do before the baby came along?’

‘I’m a dental hygienist,’ she said, and added sardonically: ‘Thanks for asking.’

‘A useful occupation,’ was Renshaw’s only comment, which suggested he wasn’t very interested. He’d placed his foot on a fallen log and now it shifted unexpectedly, causing him to stumble. Alice muffled a snort of laughter. To conceal his embarrassment, Renshaw knelt down and fiddled with his shoe, pulling the lace free and retying it.

Noticing that Evie was sleepy again. Alice took long, exaggerated strides across the clearing, jogging the carrier up and down to enhance the rhythm of her movements.

‘What now, then?’ she asked as Renshaw stood up. ‘Because we can’t stay out here all morning.’

‘I agree. But I propose that you wait for a short time, while I go back to speak with Nerys.’

Alice thought he was joking. ‘Why? What difference does it make if I’m not there?’

‘I have a reason. An important one—’

‘Yes,’ she interrupted, ‘and as usual you won’t tell me what it is. Well, I’ve got an eight-week-old baby here, and soon she’ll need feeding again.’

‘I know, but—’

‘No, I’ve been far too patient up to now, far too meek and fucking reasonable, and I’ve had enough.’ She was gratified that the obscenity shocked him into silence. ‘All I want is to get on a train home. I should never have been talked into waiting till this afternoon, so if you want me out of the way, call me a taxi right now and Evie and I will be gone.’

‘With no money?’

‘I’ll bloody well—’ She broke off; swallowed.

What
would
she do?

Renshaw sighed. ‘Becoming emotional won’t help.’ He took a step towards her, glancing both ways as if checking to make sure they were alone; one hand still deep in his pocket.

Alice tensed. Had he lured her out here in order to kill her?

A
nother step closer
. Alice wrapped her arms around the carrier, working out if she could outrun him.

Then he prised something from his pocket and dropped it at her feet. A packet of yellow paper. The size and colour were unfamiliar, so it took her a few seconds to register what it was.

Money. In euros.

Another bundle came from the same pocket. Two more from the opposite pocket. He unzipped his coat and produced another half dozen packets, these ones purple, in solid bricks. Lastly came a strong carrier bag, which he unfolded and placed next to the pile of money. Ignoring her, he knelt down and filled the bag.

‘How much ... ?’ It was all Alice could manage.

‘About half a million, in two-hundred- and five-hundred-euro notes. Barely enough to establish a new life.’ He stood up and held the bag out to her. ‘And too dangerous to convert in this quantity. I will have to leave the country, but first I need a few days to make the arrangements.’

He was still offering the bag but Alice wouldn’t take it. Irascibly, he dropped it beside her.

‘You feel this money is tainted, no doubt. That is good. It means you can be trusted not to run off with it.’

‘What?’ Alice stared at the bag. ‘How long do I wait?’

‘An hour should be sufficient.’ A smug smile. ‘You understand now? It is not that I need
you
away from the house. It is that the money must be safe while I speak with Nerys.’

‘Ah hour,’ Alice repeated miserably. ‘And then what?’

‘If I am satisfied she can be trusted, I will fetch you, and this afternoon you take the train home. If Nerys gives me reason for concern, then we take the car and leave right away. I will drive you to the station and give you money for a ticket.’

She nodded grimly. Renshaw was already turning away when she called: ‘Hold on. What if you don’t come back within the hour?’

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he’d been hoping she wouldn’t identify that particular scenario. He reached into his trouser pocket and produced the phone he’d been letting her use. He pressed a few buttons, then tilted the screen in her direction.

She peered at the text:
Alice, it’s Harry. I’m having to use a borrowed phone, too. Will explain all soon. If this really is you, tell me where we went for that weekend before Evie came along. And tell me you really are safe! I love you. Harry xx

The relief was indescribable: Harry was okay.

Then came the shock. The suspicion. ‘When did you get this?’

‘It was sent last night. There were other messages, attempts to reach you, but I deleted them. This I put in a folder, so you would not see it.’

Alice remembered how she’d been allowed to check the phone in the living room. She felt a tear come to her eyes and hated herself for it.

‘And what about my iPhone?’ She saw the truth in his eyes. ‘You wore out the battery, didn’t you, so I’d be forced to rely on you?’

He nodded. ‘I am truly sorry.’ Then, to her surprise, he thrust the Nokia into her hand. ‘You do not trust me, and you were right, in many ways. But I trust you, Alice. Keep this. Please wait an hour. If I do not return, you are free to call your husband, the police, anyone you wish.’

‘So I make my own way home? And what about all this money? How do I explain—?’

‘I
will
be back within an hour.’ A gesture at the bag. ‘This guarantees it, I assure you.’