The Back Road

42

Tom stared at his computer screen. This wasn’t good. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he’d started the search for Leo’s father, but it wasn’t this. Ernie Collier from the Cheshire police had been doing a bit of asking around, and had called back to say that there had been talk that Ted Harris had ‘buggered off to East Anglia’. That piece of information had proved enormously helpful, and Tom had been working through all his sources by phone and email to see what he could dig up.

An appropriate term, he thought.

He’d made a brief trip into the village to see if he could pick up any gossip. The newsagent’s had been his first stop, and the only one that had revealed anything - although that wasn’t much.

‘Good morning, Mrs Talbot,’ he’d said, picking up his daily newspaper and placing it on the counter. ‘Haven’t you got any of the local newspapers left?’

‘They’ve all gone, I’m afraid Mr Douglas. A lot of interest, this week. Was there something particular that you were looking for, because I’ve got my own copy in the back if you’d like to borrow it? I need it back, though, because I do like to keep a copy for a week or so.’

‘That’s very kind - but I wanted to read more about the accident. You know, Abbie Campbell?’ He didn’t want to do any such thing, but he’d needed an opening.

As expected, Mrs Talbot had voiced a number of theories, all of which Tom had heard before and all of which he knew to be nonsense.

‘It must be a terrible shock for a village like this. I suppose it’s rare that anything happens to disrupt the peace,’ he said.

‘Well, you’d think so wouldn’t you. And on the whole you’d be right. But we’ve had our moments.’

Tom had noticed before that there was some kind of perverse pride in communities that have housed villains. It was the same with neighbours and acquaintances of the most evil criminals. Behind the expressions of shock and horror, there was always a gleam of suppressed excitement, as if somehow their familiarity with a monster made them, and their lives, infinitely more interesting.

‘Surely not recently?’ he responded, fishing in his pocket for change to pay for his paper.

‘No. That’s true. It’s been quiet for a good few years now.’ Mrs Talbot sounded vaguely disappointed. ‘But we’ve had our share of scoundrels. It’s interesting that all this seems to have happened to young Abbie in those woods, you know. It’s not the first time people have wondered what’s gone on there.’

Tom handed over his cash, and gave Mrs Talbot an encouraging smile.

‘It’s years ago now, but it was summer. I remember that, because it was hot and everybody had their windows open all the time. There weren’t so many houses on that side of the village then, but more than one person swore that one night they heard a terrible scream coming from the woods.’

‘Really? What happened?’ Tom asked.

‘We never knew. The people that heard it said they listened to see if it came again, but it was quiet after that. They convinced themselves that it was a fox or something. It was only when they all started talking to each other that they got a bit worried. Perhaps it was a scream. Somebody out there might be hurt. So some of the men went to the woods to see if they could find anything, but there was nothing that they could see.’

‘Did they call the police?’

Doreen Talbot had the grace to look shamefaced.

‘It was too late. There was nothing there, nobody was reported missing or anything, so least said, soonest mended we all thought.’

Tom had kept his thoughts to himself. A group of villagers out looking for evidence of a crime was not his idea of the perfect game plan.

‘When was this? Do you remember?’

‘Not properly. It has to be more than twelve years ago, because it happened before I went into hospital. But less than eighteen, because it was definitely after my Bert died.’

That had been it. The sum total of the gossip provided nothing that would help Tom with his enquiries, and the other shops yielded less. So it was back to his computer. He had double checked Leo’s research to make sure that the information provided by her stepmother was definitely a lie. And it was. There was no trace of his death certificate in the period she had stated. But thanks to Ernie Collier he now had other routes to research, and step by step the facts were revealed to him. He was able to use his status as an ex-copper to ask a few favours at local newspapers, and he spoke to the local force. Finally, he put all the pieces together. He knew all there was to know.

He was going to have to go and find Leo. And he wasn’t looking forward to it one little bit.