Cambridge Blue - Alison Bruce [51]
In the end, he had no idea how long he remained there, his elbows resting on his knees. He lit each new cigarette from the last but, instead of putting any of them to his mouth, he spent the time watching the ash growing in length, then falling on to the path.
He thought constantly about Lorna. He wondered how much he needed to say, and how much he’d be able to leave out, and whether he was pulling the lid on a can of worms. The Gary Goodhew he’d known from primary school had been quick-witted, logical and intuitive, in retrospect. It was a worrying combination. Bryn was realistic; he wasn’t going to be driving the conversation, but he held on to the idea that it was safest to take a ride with someone you knew.
He finally decided against lighting another cigarette as he pinched the current one dead between the tips of his forefinger and thumb. He was about to toss the butt into the bin when he looked up and, for the first time, realized he was being watched.
Gary was no more than fifteen feet away. ‘I noticed you came in twice, so I thought you might still be out here somewhere,’ he said.
Bryn nodded. ‘That figures.’ He threw the butt at the bin then, and for the first time, missed. It bounced on to the ground right in front of Gary, who retrieved it and dropped it in safely.
‘DC Kincaide is looking for you at the moment and, meanwhile, I’m supposed to be doing something else. What’s up?’
Bryn laced his fingers, then loosened them again when he realized it might look like he was praying. ‘There’s a thing . . . a coincidence, I suppose. It was at the back of my mind when I saw you yesterday, then I thought about it overnight. It’s probably nothing, but I wanted to point it out – you can check, can’t you?’
Gary glanced back at the police station, then at Bryn again. ‘Sure. But whatever you tell me, you’ll need to repeat to someone else, just to keep everything straight. It can’t be unofficial, you understand, don’t you?’
Again Bryn nodded, but Gary still looked hesitant. Finally, he sat down and also rested his elbows on his knees. Bryn realized that it was just one of those body-language mirroring techniques, designed to put him at ease, but it did make him feel more comfortable in any case. They were both now facing forward. For his part, Bryn stared at the kerb across the road; it was the most mundane focus for his attention, and he knew that was what he needed as he deliberately exposed himself to police scrutiny. Sticking his neck out like this really went against the grain, so much so that, even when he started talking, he still took the long way round.
‘I think it was back in December when I first met Lorna, maybe the end of November. Well, not long before Christmas anyway. And, like I told you last night, we went out a couple of times to the pool hall on Mill Road. I was in there one night having a game and a drink with Colin, this bloke I knew. He used to do odd jobs and he’d done a bit of cash in hand for me, a couple of services and a few bits, just helping me catch up with stuff. Well, Lorna turned up with a mate of hers, and we ended up playing doubles.’
‘Mate, as in another woman?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Lorna told me she worked with her, a girl called Victoria.’
‘Victoria Nugent?’ Gary still uttered it as a question, even though he clearly knew the answer.
‘Yes.’ Bryn then paused a beat. He should have guessed that Victoria might already be in the picture, and the thought only made him more sure that this conversation was a good idea. ‘I partnered her, Victoria, and we had a laugh. Have you met her?’
Gary shook his head. ‘Not yet.’
‘Feisty and flirty. We had quite a few to drink that night, all of us, that is, and Lorna spent as much time chatting to Colin as I did to Victoria, which was the first odd