Dead And Buried

Sixty-nine

‘What’s on your mind?’ Louise McIlhenney asked her husband. ‘You hardly said a word to the kids over dinner: Spence was just bursting to tell you about his computer test but you barely looked in his direction. You couldn’t take your eyes off the television.’

‘How did he get on?’

‘Ask him yourself, once you’ve told me why you’re so quiet.’

‘I’m worrying about you,’ he offered, more of a suggestion than a reply.

‘You’ve got no need to: I’m fine. I see my consultant in a couple of days, but it’s just routine.’

‘Love, we could move your consultant into the spare room and I’ll still worry about you. A first baby in your forties: I won’t sleep easy until he’s keeping you awake!’

She laughed. ‘If I’m awake so will you be. But I’m not buying that as an excuse. I repeat: what’s up?’

He gave up pretence. ‘It’s work stuff,’ he confessed. ‘If you’d been watching telly you’d have heard that I’ve got a double murder on my hands, and the suspect’s absconded with his wife and son. It’s been a full day now and no trace. I reckon he’s made it out of the country.’

‘That’s yours? I thought you were strategic.’

‘That was the idea, but I’ve had a small personnel problem, so I’ve taken this one over. There’s more than that. Alex Skinner’s got a stalker, and she’s giving us less help than she might in tracing him. I think she knows who it is and wants to protect him.’

‘From her father?’

‘From Mario and me: Bob’s away just now, and he’s left us in loco parentis, you might say.’

‘Don’t let Alex hear you say it. She’s a very capable woman; if she says she can deal with something, I’ll bet she can.’

‘Maybe, but we’ve got a bit of extra insurance anyway.’

‘What kind of insurance?’

‘A good neighbour, you might call him. He’s. .’ He broke off as the phone rang, reached across from his chair, and picked it up. ‘The McIlhenney household,’ he said.

‘Boss, it’s Ray Wilding. I’m going to brighten your evening. I’ve just had a call from the Met. Eddie and Soraya Charnwood have been arrested at Heathrow: they were booked on to a flight to Tunis under the names Edgar and Sonya Wood.’

‘And the kid?’

‘He was with them; they’d dyed his hair blond. It was him who gave the game away, believe it or not. The handler at the check-in desk said to him, “And what’s your name, little man?” and he replied, “Edward Charnwood,” just like that. The name on his passport was John. The clerk pressed the panic button and the police arrived, mob-handed.’

‘Brilliant. I was beginning to think that we weren’t allowed any luck. Where are they now?’

‘The parents are being held in custody overnight, and the boy’s in care. All three of them will be flown up to Edinburgh tomorrow morning, with an escort.’

‘Am I looking forward to meeting them, or am I not? Thanks, Ray, you were right: you have made my night.’