Riddick took a large mouthful of Rooster’s Yankee pale ale. He closed his eyes, savouring the citrus bite.
He then looked at the glass of Diet Coke in Anders’ hand and shook his head.
Anders snorted. ‘Take note, Padawan.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of the fact that a lifetime of heavy drinking can lead to a retirement of perpetual boredom.’
‘Only because you stopped. I fully intend to continue.’
‘You’ll stop!’
‘Because?’
‘Because people like us have to stop. Or… eventually… we die.’
‘Bollocks,’ Riddick said. ‘My old man drank until he was eighty.’
‘So, he drank at breakfast?’
‘No, not exactly.’
Anders gave a smug grin and took a mouthful of Coke.
‘He could have done,’ protested Riddick. ‘He was a secretive bugger. I didn’t follow him about the place.’
‘Well, if he drank as much as you do, he wouldn’t have made it to eighty. I know.’
‘Jesus, is there anything you don’t know?’
‘No. Not the last time I checked anyway.’ He winked.
Riddick rolled his eyes and took another large mouthful. He knew full well that Anders was right. That this couldn’t continue. That he was drinking himself into unemployment or, worse still, a painful death from cirrhosis of the liver. However, at this point in his life, he was struggling to summon up the willpower to begin the battle against his addiction.
He heard the squeaking of the steep staircase that led up to the first floor of Blind Jack’s. A young couple, unrecognisable to Riddick, and so unlikely to be local, reached the top of the stairs, commenting on and admiring the poky Georgian building.
Riddick waited until they’d entered the second room upstairs, so he could continue his conversation with Anders.
‘When will the DNA results on the jumper be back?’ Anders asked.
‘Harsh Marsh told Emma that it would be first thing.’
‘Shit,’ Anders grunted. ‘I don’t remember her ever fast-tracking something like that for me! Emma must have struck up quite an impression.’
‘Maybe. I think it’s more the fact that it could put the investigation to bed sooner rather than later,’ Riddick said.
‘You think?’ Anders smiled. ‘Neil Taylor is a lot of things, but the killer of his boy? Nah. I don’t see it. People like that can hate their families all they want, but they never turn on them.’
‘Anders knows?’ Riddick said, rolling his eyes.
‘Anders knows.’ He smiled again. ‘These are the rules of the street.’
Riddick finished his pint. ‘You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.’
Anders looked offended. ‘How could you even think such a thing?’
‘Well, someone has been blabbing to Marianne Perse. Don’t know what they were smoking though. The Viaduct Killer! Give me a break.’
‘Honestly, I trained you, nurtured you, Padawan, and you believe I would cough to the press. And not just the press, mind. But Marianne bloody Perse!’
‘Of course I don’t think it’s you. I need another pint,’ Riddick said, rising to his feet. ‘Another Coke?’
Anders looked up at him. ‘Seriously though, buddy, I do appreciate you keeping me in the loop.’
‘Well, it’s that or have you nagging all day. Personally, when I’m done, I’m done. I won’t need updating on anything.’
Anders said, ‘Let’s see how you really feel. When you live for it, like we do’ – he moved a finger between them – ‘you can never switch it off. Yeah to the Coke by the way.’
Before turning, Riddick looked out of the window onto the town square. ‘What the—?’
Cherish, wearing a winter jacket despite the warm spring weather, was passing through the town square. She had a yellow backpack on.
‘What time is it?’
‘Coming up to half ten,’ Anders said. ‘What’s got you spooked?’
‘Wait here.’
Riddick spun and flew down the wooden stairs, two at a time, using the brick walls to steady himself. It was cramped downstairs, so he apologised to the punters as he weaved past them. Unbelievably, nobody seemed to lose a drop of beer. At least, no one complained of doing so.
He burst outside into the town square.
Only a few public houses and a fish and chip shop were open at this this time of night, so the square, as was often the case on a weeknight, was quiet. He ran over to the benches in the centre and stood by the sculpture of Blind Jack and turned.
His heart skipped a beat when he thought he saw someone alongside Stomp, the children’s shoe shop, beside Blind Jack’s, before quickly realising it was his own reflection.
He shuffled to his left so he could see down Market Place. A drunk couple was embracing outside Castlegate Books, but there was no sign of Cherish.
Where have you gone?
He did another turn. She can’t just have disappeared!
Riddick opened his mouth to call out for her when Anders appeared in the doorway of Blind Jack’s.
Not now, you daft apeth! Go back inside…
Using his new walking stick, his ex-boss made his way towards him. Riddick used his hand to wave him back inside, but the inquisitive old man was having none of it—
‘Get off!’
Cherish.
‘I said get off!’
Riddick turned towards the source of the sound. Directly opposite him, between two shops, was a dark covered passageway. She had to be in there. He ran.
As he neared the entrance, he could see two people tussling in the passageway. When he was at the entrance, he identified Cherish, pregnant and squat, and a taller person, fighting over the yellow backpack. At this point, he won the tug of war. She gasped and fell to her knees.
‘Please, I’m pregnant—’
Cherish’s assailant took a step back and then kicked her.