Chapter Nineteen

TIM WAS STANDING in his office with his back to the door, gazing abstractedly out of the window as he tried to talk on the telephone to Bob Grummett without losing his temper.

“I know you can’t speak for Kayleigh, Mr Grummett,” he said in a tensely patient voice, “but what I’m asking is when is it likely that I can see you both together? I’m going to visit your wife this morning. Dr Butler has okayed it. And I’d like to talk to you and your daughter before I return to Spalding, if possible. I’m also going to visit the site of the accident. Is Kayleigh still staying with Mr and Mrs Cushing?”

He waited in silence for what seemed like several minutes while Bob Grummett spun a long and convoluted story about the two girls not getting on. Exasperatingly, the story meandered to no conclusion, nor in the process of listening to it did Tim receive an answer to his question.

“Mr Grummett, could you tell me quite simply in words of one syllable at what time Kayleigh will be leaving work today, where she is going afterwards and whether you will yourself be available when she gets there? If I can’t see you both then, my only alternative is to interview her while she’s at work and ask you to accompany me.”

“She won’t like that!” The words leapt out of the phone so loud that Tim had to hold it away from his ear.

“What she likes is rather beside the point!” He shouted back, before remembering that if he didn’t treat Kayleigh with kid gloves she or her father might try to claim that the police had not behaved with appropriate compassion.

Juliet entered the room at that moment and grimaced at Tim. He acknowledged her wry reproach.

“All right,” he mouthed. “I’ll try to be nice to him.” He put the phone on ‘speak’.

“What was that clicking noise?” Bob Grummett’s disembodied voice was suspicious.

“DC Armstrong has just come into the room. She’ll be accompanying me when I come to see you, so it’s best that she hears what we’re talking about now. Otherwise I’ll only have to repeat it to her later.”

“Is she the girl who came to the hospital with you last time?”

“I’m not sure that DC Armstrong would describe herself as a ‘girl’.”

“She seemed all right to me,” said Bob Grummett reflectively. “She coming with you when you see Rube?”

“That is my intention,” said Tim, realising too late that he sounded pompous. Juliet was looking amused – whether the cause was Bob Grummett or Tim himself, it was hard to tell.

“Rube’ll probably get on better with her. Kayleigh, too. Not too keen on uniforms, you see. That female copper was a bit rough on her.”

“If you mean . . .”

Juliet put her hand on Tim’s arm. He let the sentence hang in mid-air for a few seconds and started again.

“Speaking of Kayleigh,” he said, bracing himself once more, “can we try to establish a time at which to speak to you together today?”

“Won’t it do when we’re at the hospital?”

“It would ‘do’ fine, but Kayleigh’ll be at work, won’t she?”

“Not today, no. She’ll be with her Mam. Got herself signed off sick with worry,” said Bob Grummett proudly.

Tim passed his hand across his eyes, a ‘heaven give me strength’ look etched into his face.

Juliet moved further towards the phone.

“That’s perfect, Mr Grummett,” she said. “Thank you very much indeed. I’m sure the hospital will arrange somewhere quiet for us to talk with you and Kayleigh once we’ve seen Mrs Grummett – or we can find a space in the cafeteria. Shall we meet there in about an hour? Will Kayleigh be there then?”

“She’s there now, I shouldn’t wonder. Should I bring Mr Dixon with me?”

“Who’s Mr Dixon?”

“My sollicingtor. Mr Yates said I should get one.”

Tim groaned.

“That’s up to you, Mr Grummett,” said Juliet briskly. “We only want to ask you a few questions, but if you would feel more comfortable with Mr Dixon there, by all means ask him to attend. I’d advise that he only comes to the meeting with you and Kayleigh, though, and not to the ward. Otherwise, Mrs Grummett might be alarmed.”

“You’re right.” Bob Grummett pondered for a long minute. “Perhaps best leave him out of it for now,” he concluded. “He can always come along later.”

“We’ll see you at 11.30, then,” said Juliet. “At the hospital.”

“Aye.” There came the sound of a receiver being noisily set down.

“Heaven give me strength!” Tim and Juliet chorused together, her voice a descant of mimicry. She burst out laughing. Tim was cross.

“It’s all right for you,” he said. “I’d been trying to get sense out of him for at least a quarter of an hour before you came in.”

“And probably still would be doing, if I hadn’t.”

“That’s true. How did you manage to cut through all his crap?”

“I didn’t,” said Juliet. “I just let him know that I was on his side.”

“Okay, I admit it. He’s an old fool and I haven’t got the patience to deal with it. Is he, though?”

“Is he what?”

“Is he an old fool, or is he actually being quite devious?”

“Are the two things mutually exclusive?”

“I’d have thought so, usually.”

“Usually, perhaps, but I’d suggest not in his case. I think he’s trying to be cagey and probably congratulates himself that he’s keeping you guessing. But, as you’ve pointed out, he wasn’t exactly at the front of the queue when the brains were being handed out. The question isn’t whether he’s trying to deceive you, though, it’s why. Unless he’s what local folk call ‘ornery’ – in which case he’s just winding you up for the hell of it – he can have no good reason for being so obstructive all the time. Which suggests that he’s hiding something.”

“Agreed,” said Tim. “Ask him what it is, will you, since you’re such a lovely ‘girl’? It’ll save us a lot of time.”

This time they were both laughing.

“Come on,” said Tim. “Time for a coffee before we brave the Grummetts.”

Juliet set off for the small office kitchen with Tim in her wake. She seemed to be enjoying life more than at any point since he’d known her, certainly since she’d recovered from the previous year’s illness. He wondered if there was a reason for it.