to him ourselves, so that’s a bit of extra motivation, if you like. A touch of self-interest never goes amiss.’
Alex nodded. ‘All right.’
‘Let’s get back to Sunday morning,’ said Annie. ‘What time did Michael leave the flat?’
‘He went out at about half past nine. Ian and I were just getting ready for church – well, Ian’s in Sunday school.’
‘Michael doesn’t usually go with you?’
‘Michael’s not religious. I can’t really say I am, myself, but I do find a bit of comfort in it sometimes. And it’s tradition, a habit, isn’t it? I mean, my mum and dad used to take me to Sunday school when I was little. Those are good memories. I loved the Bible stories and illustrations. Ian seems to like them, too.’
‘Did Michael receive or make any texts or phone calls that Sunday morning?’
‘He got a text just before he went out. I was getting Ian ready, but I heard it, you know, that tinkling sound the phone makes when a text comes in.’
‘Did he tell you who it was from?’
‘No. He just said that there might be a job on.’
‘On a Sunday morning? Doing what?’
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Did he say who with?’
‘No.’
‘But he said he might drop in on his father later?’
‘Yes. His dad’s been unwell lately. And Michael’s a good son, despite their differences. There was a cancer scare, but it turned out to be his gall bladder. He still had to have an operation. His health’s been a bit fragile lately, and he’s been a bit depressed. And he frets so about the farm. I mean, they have their problems, right, but they get on OK most of the time, as long as they avoid certain subjects – like me, and what Michael thinks he’s doing with his life.’
‘Sounds like most of us,’ said Annie. ‘Then what?’
‘He kissed me and Ian, like he usually does, then he left.’
‘Did he have any money with him?’
‘He usually carries a bit of cash, but he’s very careful with the credit and debit cards. We both hate the idea of being in debt and paying interest.’
It didn’t matter how careful he was, Annie thought. If he used them, they’d be able to find out where, should it come to that. ‘Does he have a passport?’
Alex walked over to the sideboard drawer and rummaged through it for a few moments, then returned bearing a passport. Annie opened it and saw the photo. It was the same person as the picture on the mantelpiece. There were no stamps in the passport, which was only two years old. That meant he hadn’t been outside the EU.
‘Has anything out of the ordinary happened in your lives recently?’
‘Not that I can think of.’
‘Did you have an argument or anything like that?’
‘No.’
‘Did he seem worried, frightened, nervous, anxious? Different in any way?’
‘No, he was the same as normal. But you’re frightening me, asking all these questions.’
‘Sorry, it’s just routine,’ said Annie. ‘We have to ask if we’re to try and find him. Did he take the car?’
‘Yes, of course. We can walk to church, but you need the car to drive up into the dale. Maybe that’s it! I wouldn’t be surprised if that old banger broke down somewhere. Maybe that’s where he is? Up on the moors in the middle of nowhere with a dead mobile and a clapped-out car, hoping the AA might just happen to pass by.’
‘Can you tell me the number plate?’
Alex told her and Doug Wilson noted it down. ‘It’s an old Peugeot. Dirty grey.’
Alex was clutching at straws, Annie thought. Even if Michael Lane had been at home on Saturday night, there was still a better chance that he was now in a lorry helping ship a stolen tractor over to Albania than stranded on the moors in a clapped-out Peugeot hoping for the AA to turn up. But Alex didn’t need to be told that. To Annie, Michael Lane was still a prime suspect, but to Alex he was a missing loved one. Somehow or other, Annie would have to sort all that out as gently as she could, or she risked losing the
Alex nodded. ‘All right.’
‘Let’s get back to Sunday morning,’ said Annie. ‘What time did Michael leave the flat?’
‘He went out at about half past nine. Ian and I were just getting ready for church – well, Ian’s in Sunday school.’
‘Michael doesn’t usually go with you?’
‘Michael’s not religious. I can’t really say I am, myself, but I do find a bit of comfort in it sometimes. And it’s tradition, a habit, isn’t it? I mean, my mum and dad used to take me to Sunday school when I was little. Those are good memories. I loved the Bible stories and illustrations. Ian seems to like them, too.’
‘Did Michael receive or make any texts or phone calls that Sunday morning?’
‘He got a text just before he went out. I was getting Ian ready, but I heard it, you know, that tinkling sound the phone makes when a text comes in.’
‘Did he tell you who it was from?’
‘No. He just said that there might be a job on.’
‘On a Sunday morning? Doing what?’
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Did he say who with?’
‘No.’
‘But he said he might drop in on his father later?’
‘Yes. His dad’s been unwell lately. And Michael’s a good son, despite their differences. There was a cancer scare, but it turned out to be his gall bladder. He still had to have an operation. His health’s been a bit fragile lately, and he’s been a bit depressed. And he frets so about the farm. I mean, they have their problems, right, but they get on OK most of the time, as long as they avoid certain subjects – like me, and what Michael thinks he’s doing with his life.’
‘Sounds like most of us,’ said Annie. ‘Then what?’
‘He kissed me and Ian, like he usually does, then he left.’
‘Did he have any money with him?’
‘He usually carries a bit of cash, but he’s very careful with the credit and debit cards. We both hate the idea of being in debt and paying interest.’
It didn’t matter how careful he was, Annie thought. If he used them, they’d be able to find out where, should it come to that. ‘Does he have a passport?’
Alex walked over to the sideboard drawer and rummaged through it for a few moments, then returned bearing a passport. Annie opened it and saw the photo. It was the same person as the picture on the mantelpiece. There were no stamps in the passport, which was only two years old. That meant he hadn’t been outside the EU.
‘Has anything out of the ordinary happened in your lives recently?’
‘Not that I can think of.’
‘Did you have an argument or anything like that?’
‘No.’
‘Did he seem worried, frightened, nervous, anxious? Different in any way?’
‘No, he was the same as normal. But you’re frightening me, asking all these questions.’
‘Sorry, it’s just routine,’ said Annie. ‘We have to ask if we’re to try and find him. Did he take the car?’
‘Yes, of course. We can walk to church, but you need the car to drive up into the dale. Maybe that’s it! I wouldn’t be surprised if that old banger broke down somewhere. Maybe that’s where he is? Up on the moors in the middle of nowhere with a dead mobile and a clapped-out car, hoping the AA might just happen to pass by.’
‘Can you tell me the number plate?’
Alex told her and Doug Wilson noted it down. ‘It’s an old Peugeot. Dirty grey.’
Alex was clutching at straws, Annie thought. Even if Michael Lane had been at home on Saturday night, there was still a better chance that he was now in a lorry helping ship a stolen tractor over to Albania than stranded on the moors in a clapped-out Peugeot hoping for the AA to turn up. But Alex didn’t need to be told that. To Annie, Michael Lane was still a prime suspect, but to Alex he was a missing loved one. Somehow or other, Annie would have to sort all that out as gently as she could, or she risked losing the
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