‘I’ve arranged to go to Hathersage this afternoon, to talk to Kira’s mother. I’d like you to come with me,’ Maud said to Forrester. ‘Have the car ready by one.’
She wondered if she needed to cancel Stuart, who she was supposed to be meeting at eight, but decided that she would probably be back well before that.
Forrester started to ask a question, but Maud was already keying in Nancy’s number.
‘I’d like to ask you something,’ she said.
‘What?’ Nancy asked.
‘It’d be better in person.’
‘Okay. But I’m in Dalston right now, looking at grotty bedsits, and then I’m due at the restaurant. I can’t be late on my first day.’
‘I’ll come to you, if you can spare me half an hour.’
‘Could you come to the restaurant? If I get there early, there won’t be anyone around.’
‘I can be there in an hour or so.’
The Pen was near the underground station, in an obscure back street and hemmed in by a warehouse on one side and a baker’s on the other. It didn’t open until half past twelve; the metal shutters were still down, and no lights were on. There was no bell. Maud rapped hard at the door and waited, and heard footsteps, then the rattling of the locks.
Nancy was wearing cotton trousers and a white apron. Her hair was pinned firmly back, no stray wisps escaping. She looked ordered and purposeful.
‘This looks like a nice place,’ said Maud, stepping into the dim interior.
‘It’ll do for the moment,’ said Nancy.
‘Did you find a place to stay?’
‘It’s grim, but I won’t be there long. At least I’m not in Fielding Road.’
‘You’ve had no contact with Felix?’
‘No.’
‘Something’s bothering you.’
‘I don’t want to go into it right now.’
Nancy turned on the lights, and the room lay clear: wooden tables with benches, a bar running along one side, the double door at the back standing open to show the kitchen, where there was already a pan on the hob, steam curling from the lid. Sprigs of holly decorated the bar and lights ran along the shelf of bottles.
Maud gestured at a table in the window, and they sat opposite each other. She leaned down and slid a plastic folder of photographs from her case but didn’t remove any.
‘Have you found something?’
‘I wanted to go through things with you one more time.’
‘I’ve said everything I know.’
‘I want you to go back over your meeting with Kira. Everything you remember.’
Nancy nodded. She screwed her eyes shut, as if she was summoning up that day. She opened them again and began to talk, not looking at Maud, but out at the narrow street glistening in the rain.
‘It was very brief, a few seconds. I was turning into the house, and she ran into me, dropping things.’
‘Hang on. Were you still on the pavement, or on that little bit of path leading to the front door?’
‘I’m pretty sure I was on the path.’
‘Did she run into you from behind or in front?’
‘Why does that matter?’
‘If you can’t remember, I totally understand.’
Nancy screwed her eyes shut once more.
‘I think from behind. I was turned sideways and she kind of hurtled towards me, into my shoulder. The door didn’t open or close. I assume she must have been behind me.’
‘She was going towards the house?’
‘I guess so. I’d never thought of it like that.’
‘Go on.’
‘She looked rough. Matted hair, mascara down her cheeks. I remember she smelt of sweat and tobacco.’ Nancy frowned. ‘As if she’d been up all night and not washed since then.’
Maud nodded, leaned a bit closer.
‘I told her it was all right, or something like that. And she said that it wasn’t.’
‘It wasn’t all right?’
‘Yes. And then she said, “but please”. I’m sure of that. Because I felt she was asking me to help her.’
‘But please,’ repeated Maud. ‘You’re absolutely sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘It wouldn’t have been anything else?’
‘What else?’
Maud didn’t say anything. Nancy looked back at the street, where a ragged pigeon was pecking at something.
‘ “Please”,’ she repeated.
‘I was thinking about it,’ said Maud. ‘I was wondering if she might have said “police”.’
‘Police?’ said Nancy. ‘It’s hard to remember. I don’t know. It’s possible. Could she have been asking me to get the police? Shit. Did I let her down?’
‘No,’ said Maud. ‘You didn’t let her down. You were just a stranger in the street, with problems of your own. Did she say anything after that?’
Nancy forced herself back into the clamorous nightmare of that afternoon. She concentrated so hard, she felt she was almost standing on the path, face to face with Kira Mullan.
‘She said, “no more” and “get away”. I think she did. It was hard to make out the words. Hard to know what she was saying and what was in my head.’
Maud nodded.
‘What do you think that meant?’
‘I thought it meant that she was going to get away, or even telling me to get away,’ said Nancy.
‘Then what happened?’
‘I helped her pick up some things she’d dropped.’
‘What things?’
‘Her wallet, some underwear, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant I think.’
‘The things you take when you’re going to stay somewhere overnight.’
‘Yes,’ said Nancy. ‘Just like me.’
‘Yet you think she wasn’t leaving the house, but going back in. How was she dressed?’
Nancy rubbed her hands over her face, trying to keep her thoughts clear.
‘I don’t remember. Nothing that stood out, except she was wearing these cool green boots with yellow laces. That’s how I knew it was her, later, when I saw the body.’ Nancy’s voice cracked. ‘And then she told me to take care.’
‘Take care?’
‘Yes.’ Nancy pressed her fingers into her temples. ‘Are you going to tell me anything?’ she asked almost fiercely. ‘Are you going to let me know what’s going on?’
‘I’m thinking about what you’ve told me.’
‘I haven’t told you very much.’
‘You have. For example, you’ve told me that Kira was packed for staying somewhere else. But when you met her, she wasn’t going out of the house, she was going into the house.’
‘Does that matter?’
‘It’s interesting.’
Maud opened her plastic folder and slid the photos across the table, fanning them out in front of Nancy.
‘You’ve seen these before,’ she said. ‘When we last talked, I was thinking about the stool. Now I’m interested in these clothes. Why are they scattered like that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘If she’d simply been going through her wardrobe, would they would be thrown around like that?’
‘Maybe she was looking for something.’
‘Or someone else was looking for something?’
‘The murderer?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘Looking for what?’
‘That’s the question.’ Maud pressed the tip of one finger against the dark shape at the edge of the photo. ‘I think this is her mobile,’ she said.
Nancy wrinkled her nose. ‘Is that important?’
‘I believe so. Why was it lying in that particular position, right near the door?’
‘It fell out of her pocket when she was hanging?’
‘No. That doesn’t work; it’s too far from the body.’
‘Or she dropped it?’
‘Maybe.’
‘What are you thinking?’
Maud smiled and stood up.
‘I’m thinking that it’s time to leave you in peace.’