kitchen to do some impromptu plumbing, he was confident he could leave the real work to Rachel.
‘What time’s the flight?’
‘Six thirty. We’ve got plenty of time.’ Wesley looked round the hotel room, making sure they hadn’t left anything behind.
Pam slipped her hand around his waist and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Not much. Unless you want to …’
‘No. I’m not bothered. We can just have a last wander around if you like.’
This was what Wesley wanted to hear. He’d been afraid that Pam might want to take their hired car to some Cathar stronghold
they’d missed out of their itinerary. A final stroll around the old city and a leisurely lunch would suit him fine.
She began to close her suitcase, muttering that she’d bought too many souvenirs and presents. Wesley watched her as she sat
down on the case in an effort to get it fastened. After a bit of a struggle she succeeded and a grin of triumph appeared on
her face.
But Wesley’s mind wasn’t on luggage. ‘You know when we looked in Ian Rowe’s room … did you notice a passport?’
Pam stopped what she was doing. ‘No. I can’t say I did. Anyway, it’s hardly surprising. He’d packed up all the possessions
he’d wanted to take and buggered off.He might have gone back to England to see this Nadia. When you get back maybe you can check her out.’
Wesley smiled to himself. It seemed that this little mystery was gnawing away at Pam’s imagination. Perhaps now she might
understand how he felt about his work.
‘At least those e-mails tell us he wasn’t lying.’
‘It looks that way. But I didn’t trust Rowe when we were students and I see no reason to change my opinion now.’
‘Will you follow it up when we get back?’ She wasn’t letting the matter drop.
‘Do you think I should?’
‘You could have a word with that professor Nadia works for.’
‘I don’t know what’ll be waiting on my desk when I get back to the office. It’d just be my luck if there’s been a spate of
bank robberies while I’ve been away.’
‘Or serial killings.’
Wesley looked at her and saw that she was smiling. ‘Don’t joke about things like that. It happens.’
Pam kissed him again. Sometimes Wesley took things so seriously. ‘Look, why don’t we have lunch again at the Auberge de la
Cité where Ian worked. Perhaps someone’s heard from him by now.’
‘Or we could have another word with his housemate, Thierry.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Maybe not.’
Pam gave a small shudder and said nothing.
After leaving their bags behind the reception, they made their way to the Auberge de la Cité, where they ate a good lunch
and had another word with the waitress,who told them that nobody had heard from Ian Rowe since the morning he’d disappeared.
After a final stroll around Carcassonne, they made their way to the airport. For his own peace of mind, Wesley resolved to
carry out a discreet check to see whether a Nadia Lucas was working for a Professor Yves Demancour at Morbay University and,
if so, whether she was alive and well. But he doubted whether his and Rowe’s paths would ever cross again.
And somehow, he didn’t mind in the least.
Owl Cottage was nothing special: slightly run down with pink washed walls in need of a coat of paint and a shabby glass front
door circa 1960. Not thatched, with no roses round the door, it was ideal for the first-time buyer willing to do a bit of
work. But it would still be way beyond the pockets of most locals.
The owner had bought it in the spring intending to do it up and add it to his portfolio of holiday lets: a cosy little retreat
from urban life. But he’d been so busy running the business that he hadn’t got round to organising the tradesmen and now he
was planning to wait for the winter when work was scarce and prices were lower. Or alternatively he might bring in some of
the Eastern Europeans who’d worked on his
‘What time’s the flight?’
‘Six thirty. We’ve got plenty of time.’ Wesley looked round the hotel room, making sure they hadn’t left anything behind.
Pam slipped her hand around his waist and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Not much. Unless you want to …’
‘No. I’m not bothered. We can just have a last wander around if you like.’
This was what Wesley wanted to hear. He’d been afraid that Pam might want to take their hired car to some Cathar stronghold
they’d missed out of their itinerary. A final stroll around the old city and a leisurely lunch would suit him fine.
She began to close her suitcase, muttering that she’d bought too many souvenirs and presents. Wesley watched her as she sat
down on the case in an effort to get it fastened. After a bit of a struggle she succeeded and a grin of triumph appeared on
her face.
But Wesley’s mind wasn’t on luggage. ‘You know when we looked in Ian Rowe’s room … did you notice a passport?’
Pam stopped what she was doing. ‘No. I can’t say I did. Anyway, it’s hardly surprising. He’d packed up all the possessions
he’d wanted to take and buggered off.He might have gone back to England to see this Nadia. When you get back maybe you can check her out.’
Wesley smiled to himself. It seemed that this little mystery was gnawing away at Pam’s imagination. Perhaps now she might
understand how he felt about his work.
‘At least those e-mails tell us he wasn’t lying.’
‘It looks that way. But I didn’t trust Rowe when we were students and I see no reason to change my opinion now.’
‘Will you follow it up when we get back?’ She wasn’t letting the matter drop.
‘Do you think I should?’
‘You could have a word with that professor Nadia works for.’
‘I don’t know what’ll be waiting on my desk when I get back to the office. It’d just be my luck if there’s been a spate of
bank robberies while I’ve been away.’
‘Or serial killings.’
Wesley looked at her and saw that she was smiling. ‘Don’t joke about things like that. It happens.’
Pam kissed him again. Sometimes Wesley took things so seriously. ‘Look, why don’t we have lunch again at the Auberge de la
Cité where Ian worked. Perhaps someone’s heard from him by now.’
‘Or we could have another word with his housemate, Thierry.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Maybe not.’
Pam gave a small shudder and said nothing.
After leaving their bags behind the reception, they made their way to the Auberge de la Cité, where they ate a good lunch
and had another word with the waitress,who told them that nobody had heard from Ian Rowe since the morning he’d disappeared.
After a final stroll around Carcassonne, they made their way to the airport. For his own peace of mind, Wesley resolved to
carry out a discreet check to see whether a Nadia Lucas was working for a Professor Yves Demancour at Morbay University and,
if so, whether she was alive and well. But he doubted whether his and Rowe’s paths would ever cross again.
And somehow, he didn’t mind in the least.
Owl Cottage was nothing special: slightly run down with pink washed walls in need of a coat of paint and a shabby glass front
door circa 1960. Not thatched, with no roses round the door, it was ideal for the first-time buyer willing to do a bit of
work. But it would still be way beyond the pockets of most locals.
The owner had bought it in the spring intending to do it up and add it to his portfolio of holiday lets: a cosy little retreat
from urban life. But he’d been so busy running the business that he hadn’t got round to organising the tradesmen and now he
was planning to wait for the winter when work was scarce and prices were lower. Or alternatively he might bring in some of
the Eastern Europeans who’d worked on his
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