Read Online The Loyal Servant by Eva Hudson - Free Book Online

and shook out its contents. Buried at the bottom of the pile was the business card the police constable had given her. She snatched up the phone again and punched in the number for the Belgravia police station. PC Mills would probably have seen the article. He must have known since yesterday how inaccurate it was. And he must know by now that the man in charge of the investigation had lied to the press. Finally the ringing stopped and someone at the other end asked if they could help her.
    ‘PC Mills please.’
    ‘Just a moment. I’ll put you through.’ Hold music started to play. Caroline pulled the phone from her ear and hit the speakerphone button. As the Lighthouse Family track distorted through the tiny speaker, Pete heaved himself onto his side and moaned something incoherent. Caroline started to pace the room, the floorboards creaking noisily under her feet. As the music continued to play she thought of the young PC’s sad smile, his open, honest face. He’d told her she could speak to him about what had happened. He’d seemed like one of the good guys – could she trust him? The music stopped and Caroline lifted the phone back to her ear, unsure what she would say to him.
    ‘Hello?’ It was the woman who’d answered the phone. ‘I’m afraid PC Mills isn’t on duty today. What is it concerning?’
    ‘Martin Fox – the minister who—’ Caroline stopped, unsure how much she should say.
    ‘Can anyone else help? I can put you through to Inspector Leary, if you like.’
    Caroline stabbed the call end button and stared down at the phone.

7
    A Sunday morning jogger dodged around Caroline and muttered something as he went by. Minty growled a warning bark at him.
    ‘It’s all right, girl. He’s just a silly man.’ Caroline watched the jogger disappear into the next turning. ‘In very silly shorts.’ She turned through 90 degrees then looked down at a battered copy of the A-Z . She turned another 90, dragging the dog with her and tangling Minty’s lead around her legs. She checked the nearest street sign.
    ‘Looks like we’ve already walked past it.’
    The dog let out a grumbling whine while Caroline untangled the lead. They hurried to the next junction and stopped on the corner of Martin Fox’s street. Caroline looked up the road and saw three men standing on the pavement outside a house halfway up. Two of them wore flapping raincoats; the third sported a leather jacket, with a long-lensed camera strapped across his chest.
    ‘More reporters.’ Caroline sighed and the dog did too.
    An hour earlier she’d forced her way through the few remaining journalists outside her own front garden. She ignored their questions and with her head down, a scarf wrapped tight over her unwashed hair, she ran Minty down the road. A couple of energetic souls followed her for a couple of streets, shouting incomprehensible questions at her, but even they lost enthusiasm for the chase when it became clear she wasn’t going to respond.
    Before she’d left the house, she’d told Jean she was taking the dog for a good long run in Mountfield Park, but instead of crossing the main road she hurried a disappointed Minty west along Brownlow Road to the train station. A train and two tube journeys later she found herself in a quiet residential street on the fringes of West Kensington. She looked down at Minty, whose tongue was lolling out of her mouth.
    ‘Poor love, you must be parched.’
    She slipped the A-Z back into her handbag and retrieved a half litre bottle of Evian. Caroline unstoppered the bottle and poured a little water into her cupped hand. Minty’s tongue seemed to blot it up in less than a second. She poured out the remainder and the dog let out a little yelp. Caroline waved the empty bottle at her. ‘All gone,’ she said.
    The movement was enough to snag a reporter’s attention. He turned away from his colleagues and stared right at her. Caroline sank to her knees and pulled her scarf over her head. She