Faith - Lesley Pearse [184]
‘No, I’ll leave that to you,’ David replied. ‘I’ve got some phone calls to make. One of them will be to the prison. I’m going to try and twist the governor’s arm to let us go in tomorrow to see Laura. Time really is running out for me. Julia and the kids will be here on Saturday.’
Stuart sat on a bench in Princes Street Gardens reading a newspaper until it was time to met Gregor Finlay at twelve. Princes Street was busy with shoppers and tourists and even though it was another week until the Edinburgh Festival began, he noticed there were already a great many street entertainers about, hoping to get in on the action.
The elation he’d felt yesterday had been dampened by Goldsmith. All he had now was a ball of anger lying in the pit of his stomach. He was certain that Charles had killed Jackie, and his instinct was to drive over to Fife and beat the living daylights out of him until he admitted it.
But there was something else niggling at him too: David’s remark last night about whether Laura would be part of his future.
He might have had nothing on his mind but her ever since he was told she was in prison. But he hadn’t really considered what would happen if and when she was released. Of course he’d imagined celebrating with her, but nothing really beyond that. Yet now he was thinking about it, he realized she would have no home to go to, no friends, and as far as he knew, no money.
That was a bit daunting. He couldn’t just say, ‘Well, you’re free now’, and walk away, but it would put him under some pressure to take care of her.
She had been damaged emotionally when he first met her, though he hadn’t realized that until recently. How much more damaged would she be now after all she’d been through? She might become a terrible liability.
Yet there was a kind of odd little yearning for her inside him. Was that just sympathy, or were the old feelings still there?
He got up from the bench and began walking briskly up to the Old Town to meet Gregor. It wouldn’t do to start dwelling on what-if’s.
Gregor was already in the Ensign Ewart up by the Castle. It was one of Stuart’s favourite pubs, despite the fact that it was always full of tourists exclaiming on its great age, the ‘cute’ beams and the ‘characters’ who drank in it.
Gregor was probably one of the characters – his round, red shiny face, bald head and bellowing laugh weren’t easily forgotten. Yet Stuart remembered him at school as being quiet, bookish and having thick fair hair.
‘Am I late or were you early?’ Stuart asked.
Gregor gave one of his hearty laughs. ‘I’m always early when I’m meeting someone in a pub. What’ll you have?’
‘Just a half, I might need to drive later,’ Stuart said.
They moved into the back of the bar where it was quieter, and Stuart wasted no time in asking Gregor what he’d found out about Charles.
‘He’s got no real record,’ Gregor said, his voice lowered. ‘Not for motoring offences or anything. He’s been pulled a few times over the years for various things – receiving, assault, and threatening behaviour – but never charged with any of them.’
‘And did you look at the hit-and-run in ’81?’
‘He doesn’t appear to have been questioned. His wife told the local police he was in London. That was proved because he flew back the following day.’
‘And left his car in London!’ Stuart said pointedly. ‘But did they find out what make of car caused the accident?’
‘The tests were inconclusive. But it was silver, and they’d guess at it being a Mercedes. I ran a check through the DVLA and found Charles did have a silver Mercedes at that time. It went to a new owner a couple of months later.’
Stuart felt a surge of elation. ‘Pretty suspicious, I’d say! So why wasn’t he pulled?’ he asked.
‘Have you got any idea how many silver Mercedes there are?’ Gregor retorted. ‘It’s the most popular colour. He wasn’t in Fife that day anyway.’
‘So he’d like us to believe!’ Stuart retorted.