Believing the Lie - Elizabeth George [177]
He stammered, “Yes. Right. Course,” and he pulled out of the parking space and got back onto Alatea Fairclough’s tail.
They headed out of the city centre. Traffic was heavy, but they managed to keep Alatea’s vehicle within view. Zed Benjamin was the one who twigged first where Alatea was headed. Clear of the centre of Lancaster, it wasn’t long before a hillside topped with a variety of modern-era buildings came into view.
“She’s going to the university,” he said. “This could take us nowhere in our information.”
Deborah didn’t think so. If Alatea was heading towards Lancaster University with a companion, there was going to be a reason why. She had a feeling of what that reason would be, and she reckoned it had nothing to do with a desire to pursue higher education.
Parking in this area while remaining out of sight of their quarry was something of an iffy situation. Vehicles heading to the university were made to use a peripheral road, and once they found themselves upon it, Deborah and her companion discovered that parking was restricted as well. There were cul-de-sacs for it, but very little scope for hiding within them. Obviously, Deborah thought, the university had not been designed with the thought of individuals skulking along on the tail of someone else.
When Alatea turned into one of the cul-de-sacs, Deborah told Zed to let her out of the car. When he started to protest— they were, after all, supposed to be doing this tailing of Alatea Fairclough together and he wasn’t exactly sure of Scotland Yard’s cooperation, he pointed out— she said, “Look. We can’t go in there after them, Zed. Drop me off, and drive on. Park somewhere else. Ring me on my mobile and I’ll tell you where I am. It’s the only thing that’s going to work.”
He didn’t look happy. He didn’t look trustful. That couldn’t be helped. She wasn’t there to earn his personal faith in her character. She was there to get to the bottom of Alatea Fairclough. He’d braked the car, and that was good enough for Deborah. She hopped out, saying, “Ring my mobile,” and she dashed into the cul-de-sac before he could protest.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew he couldn’t be seen by Alatea Fairclough or the gaff would be blown in a very large way. Deborah couldn’t be seen either, but it was going to be far easier for her to hide herself from the Argentine woman and her companion than for Zed to do so.
Following them proved simpler than she had thought it would be. Providence helped. It began to rain. The downpour was sudden and it was heavy, requiring umbrellas. What better way to conceal one’s identity? Deborah fished hers out of her shoulder bag and thus was able to obscure her face and, more important, cover her coppery hair.
She kept a good distance between herself and the other women. They made for the university buildings. There were plenty of students on the purpose-built campus at this time of day, which was a blessing. It was also a blessing that the university— unlike the older institutions in the country— existed largely in a single location, on the top of that hill outside of the city proper.
The two women continued to talk as they walked, heads bent together, sharing an umbrella. Alatea had her arm through the other woman’s. She slipped once, and her companion steadied her. They seemed to be friends.
They didn’t stop in their progress through the campus. They consulted no map. They didn’t ask directions. Deborah felt a flicker of excitement at this.
Her mobile rang. She said into it, hurriedly, “We’re on a central path, a sort of walkway. It goes straight across the campus.”
“Deb?”
Tommy’s voice. Deborah winced and called herself a fool for not having looked