Read Online Spanish Inquisition by Elizabeth Darrell - Free Book Online Page B

bemused gesture. ‘A few minutes later I went round to the dressing rooms to hurry her up only to find she’d gone out the same way Piercey had. The stage door was open and swinging in the wind. I was bloody annoyed. No word of thanks or farewell.’
    Tom could imagine the chagrin. ‘Were there any cars outside when you left?’
    â€˜Just mine. She’d bloody gone with the wind, mate.’
    â€˜Right.’ He finished his tea in one gulp. ‘Thanks, Bill. We’ll need a written statement from you later, so keep the facts clear in your memory.’
    â€˜In case I’m lying?’
    â€˜No. It’s pretty damn obvious who’s lying in this affair. I’ll leave you to finish packing away the stage costumes, but I’d like a copy of the list of classes held in the Centre on the same night of the week that rehearsals for
Carmen
took place.’
    Jensen looked askance at him. ‘I see why you want it, but I tell you now you’re going up a creek without a paddle there. Your man Piercey was so enmeshed by that woman you’ll never cut him free. It was him, Tom, take my word.’

FOUR
    M ax arrived early at the inn in case Clare managed to get away before the time she had suggested, but he was still looking for her thirty minutes after her hoped-for ETA. Herr Blomfeld seemed more concerned by her tardiness, and Max began to be irritated by the man’s fussing which drove him to seek the peace of the garden bordering the river.
    A full moon silvered the smooth water gliding past the wooden tables and benches so well used on summer evenings by local diners, who feasted in true Germanic style with laughter and song. Right now, the silence was broken only by the occasional splash as river creatures went about their nocturnal business. It suited Max’s mood.
    He had not seen Clare for five weeks and cursed this delay to the meeting he felt would surely tell him where they were heading now he was fully restored to fitness. His heart sank when his mobile began to vibrate in his pocket and he saw the caller was she.
    â€˜There’s been a multi-vehicle pile-up involving a tanker. It’s horrendous, Max. We’re likely to be involved here until the early hours. Don’t wait up.’
    He closed the phone and returned it to his pocket, recalling the first time he had brought Clare here. Their meal had been interrupted when a few hyped-up students had jumped into the river, and during their larking one had almost drowned. Max had gone in to rescue her and Clare had resuscitated her while Blomfeld had called an ambulance. Clare had then spoken an undeniable truth. Doctors and policemen could never put aside what they were no matter where they might be.
    Having stocked up with provisions after interviewing Piercey, Max decided that scrambled eggs at home would suffice. In his disappointment he drove away without informing Herr Blomfeld that he would not be using the reserved table.
    The planned egg dish was swapped for a double-decker cheese, pickle and tomato sandwich accompanied by several whiskies. At midnight he got into bed. At twelve thirty he got out of it and peered from his window, knowing her car would not be there. He would have heard her drive up and slam the door.
    He switched on the TV. A choice of some weird American horror film, or a programme featuring women with gigantic breasts and men with similarly outsized genitals who wanted surgery to make them manageable. Again, it was a US programme with dubbed German voices. Max switched the set off in frustration, feeling sorry for people on night shifts who had such a dire selection to help pass the time.
    He went back to bed and was still awake at three o’clock when he heard Clare return. Unable to resist the impulse, he again peered from his window. Then he wished he had not. Climbing from the passenger seat was Major Duncan MacPherson, the Medical Officer of the Drumdorran Fusiliers whose left