have to appreciate what this looks like,’ Grey said.
‘I know what it looks like, I’m not an imbecile, Officer.’
‘So what is it you want us to do exactly?’ Grey remained in her relaxed pose, looking more like a sullen adolescent than a police officer. She seemed to be unnerving the lady and Adrian could see the anger emerging from behind the tears.
‘I want you to find the bastard! He’s buggered off to bloody Rio or wherever and I am left to deal with the shit storm!’
‘You don’t think he’s hurt then? This is purely about the money?’ Adrian asked, he saw Grey smiling out of the corner of his eye.
‘This is purely about nothing! I’ve lost everything! Why does he get to go away and pretend like nothing’s wrong? I’ve had threatening phone calls and hate mail!’ The tears had gone and Deborah Markham’s face was alight with anger. ‘He took so much from so many people. They see me here like this and think I’ve got their money or something!’
Grey sat forward and rested her elbows on her knees, she picked up a crystal cat, part of a set that was arranged carefully on the olive wood coffee table.
‘Have you got their money?’ Grey smiled as she ran her fingers across the prism-like cat ears.
‘This house belongs to my aunt, she’s letting me live here while I get back on my feet to save my dignity, it’s the only thing he left me with.’ She choked back the tears again.
‘OK, Mrs Markham, we’ll look into it.’ Adrian interrupted before Grey could open her mouth again. He stood up but she remained seated, eyes fixed on Mrs Markham.
‘Where’s he been living?’ she asked. Deborah Markham pulled out a set of keys from the handbag at her side.
‘There’s a converted barn on the road that leads to the estuary, the address is on the fob.’
Adrian took the fob and Grey put the cat down. He felt like he had just witnessed a hostage negotiation. The air was thick between them as they walked out to the car.
‘What the hell was that?’
‘She was full of it.’ Grey smiled.
‘She was distraught.’
‘Distraught my eye, she’s still got money, and plenty of it. Did you see the way she was groomed? Those are this season’s clothes, new shoes – really expensive shoes – and you can’t get that bag for less than a grand. I wouldn’t be surprised if this disappearance isn’t some kind of scam.’ Adrian looked at her with surprise.
‘How do you know about the clothes and stuff?’
‘You think I don’t know about fashion? What are you saying, Miley?’ she said incredulously, a fake look of indignation on her face.
‘Nothing, you just don’t strike me as that kind of woman.’
‘And what kind of woman do I strike you as?’
‘I don’t know, you dress like Tony Hawks,’ he said, before adding, ‘the multi-millionaire skateboarder, not the comedian.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘Just drop it, it doesn’t matter.’
‘OK, let me ask you a question.’ She sat forward.
‘OK, shoot.’ Adrian sighed, what had he done?
‘What car do you drive?’
‘You know what car I drive, I drive a Granada.’
‘A Granada? Right, Jesus, Miley, they stopped making them like fifteen years ago.’
‘She has sentimental value!’
‘Whatever, I bet you know what a Mustang is, or a Ferrari, I bet you watch the lame car programmes on TV. I bet you think you know a lot about cars.’
‘That’s different.’
‘I know a lot about clothes, specifically high-end, expensive clothing. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dress.’
Adrian couldn’t help but look her up and down, instantly regretting this decision as he saw that smile on her face again. He was beginning to understand that she only smiled like that when she had won some imaginary battle in her mind. Every time he saw that smile he would be reminded that she wasn’t the scruffy slacker that she presented herself to be.
‘The way I dress is a choice, calculated, Miley. I know what I’m doing.’
‘You want everyone to think you’re a dyke?’
‘Maybe I am a dyke.’
‘Pfft, please … I know you’re not, I have seen you checking me out.’
‘In your dreams!’ She smiled and thumped him on the arm, a little flushed in the cheeks. ‘Mostly I don’t want people to think I am too competent. I don’t want people to put their faith in me. I want them to think I am a washout and I want to prove them wrong.’
‘It’s very complicated in your head, isn’t it, Grey?’
‘I like it when people think they are superior to me, people let their guard down more when they don’t feel threatened, they are easier to confuse.’
‘That explains your amazing display of passive aggression back there.’
‘Whatever gets the job done!’
‘Is that why you got transferred out of Plymouth?’ Adrian asked. It was a genuine question although the look her face assumed put paid to any notion Adrian may have had about them being comfortable with each other. She put her hands in the ten to two position and focused on the road ahead. The connection was lost. The conversation was over.
The barn was large and impressive. They walked up the gravelled driveway and knocked on the door, noting the incredible framing of pink sky around the house; it felt so completely secluded out there.
‘Mr Markham?’ Adrian called out.
Grey walked around the side of the house and disappeared from Adrian’s view. Adrian tried every key on the bunch Deborah Markham had given them until he found the one that corresponded with the lock. He could tell from the absolute silence that they were alone here.
‘Mr Markham? Ian Markham?’ he called out again, just in case. The house was bare, stripped of furniture, a few lopsided pictures hung on the walls and a rug or two lay here and there.
‘Looks like he’s had some kind of bonfire out back.’ Grey was standing in the doorway holding a document box. ‘Left in a hurry, too, by the looks of it.’
Adrian took the box from Grey, a handful of papers remained in the bottom. Some tickets from various bookmakers, some shredded paper they could get the lab to reassemble, a couple of invitations to local fundraising functions but nothing massively incriminating.
