The Detective's Daughter

38

Thursday, 20 January 2011

They parted outside Sarah Glyde’s house and again Jack refused a lift. This time she did not argue; she knew where to find him. Neither of them suggested a debrief about the meeting; since the afternoon, despite a slight improvement in his mood at the statue, Jack had been heavy and sullen and Stella was as keen to part with him as he seemed to be with her. Jonathan Rokesmith might have been his friend, but if they stood a chance of solving the case he had to put his own feelings to one side and be professional.

They arranged that Jack would be at Stella’s flat the next afternoon; he was busy in the morning. Stella stopped herself pointing out that he had said he only did late shifts on the Underground. Jack was one of those people who liked to weave a mystery around themselves to appear interesting, so she would not indulge him by quizzing him.

Jack set off down the path to Hammersmith Bridge; he would have to double back, perhaps via the Great West Road. Grasping gateposts, walls, even hedge branches, Stella snailed her way along Black Lion Lane.

Every few paces she checked behind, as she had done on the way to Sarah Glyde’s, looking out for Paul. Jack would not be suspicious were he watching. Paul’s silence since her visit to his flat was making her nervous. Just before the ramp, she clambered over a mound of snow in the gutter and hid behind a four-wheel drive.

Jack would pass by on her right; she was ready to move around the large vehicle to avoid him. She arched her back to alleviate the stiffness. She had concentrated on the Rokesmith case over the past week so had not picked up cleaning shifts which she relied on for exercise; she was out of condition. She gave up and stepped into the road.

Jack was by the Bell Steps. He was staring at her. She had been stupid: he had reeled out his line, let her swim towards the bait, now he was winding her in.

He moved and she realized he was facing the other way and had not seen her. She took her chance and, careless of injury, scooted into the subway.

It took Stella ten minutes to stumble through the snow and ice to St Peter’s Square, by which time she had decided what to do about Jack.