This person was about her own age, lean and tanned. He wasn't as tall as Detective Hill, but that didn't mean he still wasn't fairly tall. He was carrying a canvas rucksack with holes frayed in the corners and his jeans and T-shirt were faded. Damp circles spread under the arms of the T-shirt.
'You look familiar,' Lindsay was saying curiously.
'Weren't you in the police?'
'Only for a while,' Rafe Townsend said. 'I finished Hendon, but left my training after a year of probation.'
'Oh?' Detective Hill raised an eyebrow. 'Why was that?'
'Personal reasons,' Rafe said politely. He had a
London accent, not a posh one.
There was a chilly pause.
Detective Hill said, 'And what do you do now?'
'I work for a landscaping company. Digging.
Knocking walls. That kind of thing.'
Hurry up , Emma thought. Ask him what he saw.
Detective Hill stood there, stroking his moustache, moving his thumb from left to right and back again over the hairs. He was staring at Rafe as hard as
Emma had done.
'You've been told what's happened,' he said after a moment.
'Yes.' For the first time, Rafe glanced towards
Emma. 'I'm sorry.'
'You don't mind if we ask some questions about what you saw?'
'No. I'd be glad to be of any help.'
Lindsay looked at Emma. Before Rafe had arrived, she had asked Emma if she would mind waiting in a separate room while he gave his statement.
'Witnesses usually give their accounts in private,'
Lindsay said. 'But you'll have a chance to talk to him afterwards if you want.'
Emma went back out to the balcony. She slid the glass door shut and heard the voices in the sitting-room drop to an incomprehensible murmur. She leaned on her arms on the railing for a while, letting the breeze numb her face. The car park below was a twilit blur. She didn't notice that the murmuring in the flat had stopped until she heard the balcony door open behind her.
'Mr Townsend would like to see you,' Lindsay said.
Emma turned. The door slid open further. Then there was a scuffling sound, and Rafe Townsend and his rucksack were beside her on the balcony.
'I brought your stuff back,' Rafe said.
Emma swung all the way round to face him. Close up, he wasn't so much tanned as sallow, as if he had
Spanish or Italian blood. His eyes were very alert.
'What did you tell them?' Emma asked. 'What did you say?'
Rafe said, 'Well, the first thing they wanted to know was what I'd been doing at Stepney Green tube station. I said I'd been on a gardening job near Epping
Forest, and my boss gave me a lift to the station on his way home. When I got on to the platform, I saw you running after the train and thought you were about to get yourself killed, so I ran down the tunnel to pull you back.'
'Did you see her? Did you see Antonia?'
'The woman on the train? No. I'm sorry.'
Emma slumped. But what had she expected? Even if he had seen Antonia, he wouldn't have been able to tell them much more about her than she herself had.
To comfort herself more than him, she said, 'Well, at least you saw Ritchie. The way the police have been talking, some of them seem to think I've been making him up.'
Rafe shuffled a bit on the cement floor of the balcony.
'You know,' he said, 'I didn't actually see your kid.'
Emma stared at him. 'But you must have. You were there.'
'Yeah. Well, it's like I said to the police, I saw you holding on to a strap of some kind outside the door of the train. But I only knew when you told me afterwards that it was your baby.'
'But you—'
All over a fucking designer handbag . Of course.
Emma remembered now. He had thought Ritchie was a handbag. This person was blind. He couldn't help her at all. She turned away. Her throat felt like there was something in it, like she might choke. She didn't want to hear any more.
'I'm sorry.' Rafe sounded subdued. 'Really, I am.'
Emma couldn't answer.
'How are you doing?'
How did he bloody well think?
'I feel like the world's biggest loser.' Rafe hit his fist off his rucksack. 'I shouldn't have
'You look familiar,' Lindsay was saying curiously.
'Weren't you in the police?'
'Only for a while,' Rafe Townsend said. 'I finished Hendon, but left my training after a year of probation.'
'Oh?' Detective Hill raised an eyebrow. 'Why was that?'
'Personal reasons,' Rafe said politely. He had a
London accent, not a posh one.
There was a chilly pause.
Detective Hill said, 'And what do you do now?'
'I work for a landscaping company. Digging.
Knocking walls. That kind of thing.'
Hurry up , Emma thought. Ask him what he saw.
Detective Hill stood there, stroking his moustache, moving his thumb from left to right and back again over the hairs. He was staring at Rafe as hard as
Emma had done.
'You've been told what's happened,' he said after a moment.
'Yes.' For the first time, Rafe glanced towards
Emma. 'I'm sorry.'
'You don't mind if we ask some questions about what you saw?'
'No. I'd be glad to be of any help.'
Lindsay looked at Emma. Before Rafe had arrived, she had asked Emma if she would mind waiting in a separate room while he gave his statement.
'Witnesses usually give their accounts in private,'
Lindsay said. 'But you'll have a chance to talk to him afterwards if you want.'
Emma went back out to the balcony. She slid the glass door shut and heard the voices in the sitting-room drop to an incomprehensible murmur. She leaned on her arms on the railing for a while, letting the breeze numb her face. The car park below was a twilit blur. She didn't notice that the murmuring in the flat had stopped until she heard the balcony door open behind her.
'Mr Townsend would like to see you,' Lindsay said.
Emma turned. The door slid open further. Then there was a scuffling sound, and Rafe Townsend and his rucksack were beside her on the balcony.
'I brought your stuff back,' Rafe said.
Emma swung all the way round to face him. Close up, he wasn't so much tanned as sallow, as if he had
Spanish or Italian blood. His eyes were very alert.
'What did you tell them?' Emma asked. 'What did you say?'
Rafe said, 'Well, the first thing they wanted to know was what I'd been doing at Stepney Green tube station. I said I'd been on a gardening job near Epping
Forest, and my boss gave me a lift to the station on his way home. When I got on to the platform, I saw you running after the train and thought you were about to get yourself killed, so I ran down the tunnel to pull you back.'
'Did you see her? Did you see Antonia?'
'The woman on the train? No. I'm sorry.'
Emma slumped. But what had she expected? Even if he had seen Antonia, he wouldn't have been able to tell them much more about her than she herself had.
To comfort herself more than him, she said, 'Well, at least you saw Ritchie. The way the police have been talking, some of them seem to think I've been making him up.'
Rafe shuffled a bit on the cement floor of the balcony.
'You know,' he said, 'I didn't actually see your kid.'
Emma stared at him. 'But you must have. You were there.'
'Yeah. Well, it's like I said to the police, I saw you holding on to a strap of some kind outside the door of the train. But I only knew when you told me afterwards that it was your baby.'
'But you—'
All over a fucking designer handbag . Of course.
Emma remembered now. He had thought Ritchie was a handbag. This person was blind. He couldn't help her at all. She turned away. Her throat felt like there was something in it, like she might choke. She didn't want to hear any more.
'I'm sorry.' Rafe sounded subdued. 'Really, I am.'
Emma couldn't answer.
'How are you doing?'
How did he bloody well think?
'I feel like the world's biggest loser.' Rafe hit his fist off his rucksack. 'I shouldn't have
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