The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)

He ate a chip and waited for her reply.

Kim said nothing. Then he saw that tears were running down her face. ‘I wondered, that is, I thought that maybe . . .’ She sniffed. ‘Please tell me my parents aren’t behind this. They’re not, are they?’

Carter shook his head. ‘I have no idea who your parents are, Kim. This is just me. I’m trying to find a way to say sorry to Jack.’

‘Sorry that you are alive and he isn’t?’

‘Something like that.’

‘You should give thanks that you are alive. You can’t live feeling guilty all the time. That’s how things are, Carter McLean. You win some, you lose some.’

‘Will you let me help you?’

‘I’d be a real idiot if I said no, wouldn’t I?’

Carter breathed out. ‘Phew! Well, here’s the plan.’

It took a while to explain how the trusts and allowances would work, but by the time their supper was finished, Kim Walker looked like a different woman.

‘I did love Jack, very much.’ She looked at him from dark brown eyes. ‘But my parents put enormous pressure on us. I left home after they split us up. I went a bit wild for a while.’ She pulled a face. ‘Hence my present lodgings, and the people there.’

‘It shouldn’t take too long to sort out. And in the meantime, I suggest you pack your things, and I’ll check you into a local hotel.’ He gave her his most winning smile. ‘And no funny stuff, I swear!’

She smiled back. ‘Jack trusted you, so I guess that’s good enough for me. And he told me all about you and your friends rebuilding the Eva May. He promised me a trip to see it, but we never got there.’

‘It’s nearly finished. If you like, I’ll take you one day, just so you can see what he was talking about.’

‘I’d like that.’ She looked at her daughter who was unsuccessfully chasing a duck around the green. ‘I was terrified of what would happen to her. Now . . .’

‘Now you can forget about worrying. She’ll be well provided for. You both will.’ He paused. ‘I wonder why Jack never talked to me about you and his daughter. We talked about so much. It seems odd that he never brought you to see me.’

‘Well, he must have talked about his plans for us, or you wouldn’t be here, would you?’

Carter experienced a moment of panic. He had done it again, let his mouth take over. ‘I . . . I mean he never explained how serious the situation was with your parents, and he did keep you secret. He only came clean when we were on our way to Holland.’

Kim seemed satisfied with that. ‘My mother and father came down really heavy on Jack, almost to the point of serious threats. We decided to keep our meetings hidden from absolutely everyone, so I guess that meant you guys too.’ She looked sad. ‘After that, I went off the rails a bit. I never thought things would get better again.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘But this is like some kind of modern day fairy story. I still can’t believe it.’

‘Believe it. I’m just sorry that I’m no Prince Charming.’

She leant across and pecked his cheek. ‘Well, you’re not a frog, and you are my knight in shining armour.’

‘No, Kim, that’s Jack. It’s all down to him.’

He handed her a tissue.

*

Robbie hadn’t really looked forward to his “holiday.” He wasn’t a big drinker and he never went clubbing, so the understated nightlife in the Spanish town of Sanxenxo came as a pleasant surprise.

And the Galician coast was unbelievably beautiful. He had arrived at night, but everywhere he saw flyers and leaflets describing the numerous hiking trails, impressive scenery and wild landscapes. Robbie loved walking, and he decided he would come back here one day.

The nightlife turned out to be rather cosy and casual. It seemed to revolve around bars, cafes and lounges. He found Harvey Cash in a quiet backstreet bar. He was pretty drunk, but Robbie already knew that this was more or less normal.

He noted what Harvey was drinking, went to the bar and ordered two large gin and tonics.

‘I hate it when someone hangs up on you, don’t you?’ Robbie pushed one of the tall, frosty glasses towards Harvey. ‘So I thought I’d come and take a closer look at the man who put the phone down on me last night.’

Harvey’s eyes widened. He made an attempt to stand, but Robbie pushed him back into his chair. ‘I paid for my flight myself. So I’m sodding well going to make it worth my while. I’m not leaving your side until you tell me why Suzanne was such a bitch . . . as you put it last night.’

Harvey seemed to deflate. ‘You aren’t going to go away, are you?’

‘Nope.’

‘Well, I’m not talking here. We’ll finish these, then you are going to buy a bottle, correction, you are going to buy two bottles, and we go back to my place. And that’s the only way it happens.’

‘I can live with that.’ The only thing that Robbie was unsure of was how he was going to keep a clear head. After watching his parents get paralytic on far too many ‘social’ occasions, he had steered clear of alcohol. In fact the last time he’d had an alcoholic drink had been at Christmas. This was not going to be easy.

‘When I heard you were a holiday rep, I kind of expected an 18-30 resort full of raucous drunken Brits throwing up all over the place.’ He glanced around. ‘But this place is really nice.’

‘Some of the quieter coves are the best on the coast. I lived here for a while, way back. Now I’ve come full circle. I don’t think I’ll be moving on now.’ Harvey ran a hand through his thinning hair, picked up his drink and downed it. He belched loudly. ‘Ready?’

Robbie watched in horror. ‘Sorry, mate. No way can I do that!’

‘Then I’ll help you. It’ll be just like magic! You get two bottles of Ribeiro from my friend Mateo at the bar, and by the time you’ve paid and given Mateo a generous tip, this will have disappeared, abracadabra!’

Twenty difficult minutes later — Harvey kept insisting that they should go to another bar — Robbie and Harvey arrived at the apartment.

Robbie was surprised. The place was quite respectable. Apart from a few odd empties in various slightly obscure places, it was pretty tidy.

Harvey flopped down onto a brightly coloured sofa. ‘Glasses in the kitchen cupboard over the fridge. The wine is very good. Local stuff, but excelente, so maybe you’ll do better with that than the gin.’

Robbie poured the wine and took a sip. Not bad at all. He handed Harvey his glass, and then sat down on an oversized bean bag.

‘You must be pretty desperate to come here, what did you say your name was?’

‘Robbie. And, yeah, pretty desperate.’

‘Why me and not her next model? Er, Tom what’s-his-name.’

‘He’s dead, Harvey. Tom Holland was killed in a plane crash.’

‘Trying to get away from her, was he?’

‘No. Although I understand from our files that he was not living at home when she went missing.’

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