eleven

The next morning, as Rex and Helen sat at the breakfast table leafing through the Sunday papers for any further news on Cassie Chase’s death, the house phone trilled in the hall.

“I wonder who that could be,” Helen said with a frown, looking undecided as to whether to answer it. “If it’s important and someone I know, they’d call on my mobile.” The phone kept ringing and she got up from her chair with a sigh, tightening the belt on her pink satin dressing gown. “It had better not be someone selling double glazing or I’ll give them a piece of my mind, ringing at nine a.m. on a holiday weekend!”

Rex smiled. His wife, while being the sweetest person in the world, could make her displeasure sorely felt on rare occasions.

“Helen d’Arcy,” he heard her answer in a matter-of-fact tone. “I mean, Mrs. Graves.”

Rex chuckled into his mug of coffee. “It’s for you,” he heard her call out to him. Thinking it might have something to do with the case, he immediately set aside his newspaper and went to join his wife in the hall, where she stood with a hand over the mouthpiece.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“He wouldn’t say, but he sounds upset.”

Rex took the receiver from her. “How can I help you?” he asked.

“Mr. Graves?” a muffled male voice asked, as though he had been crying.

“Speaking.”

“I thought you should know; she did it because of me. I told her I couldn’t marry her.” The caller broke down in anguish at the other end of the line.

“Are we talking about Cassie? Is this Trey? Calm yourself, lad. I’m having difficulty understanding you. I’m sure you’re not responsible. Would it help to talk in person? Perhaps with my wife? Helen is a school counsellor. She’s really good in these situations.”

Helen, who had returned to the hall with her coffee, gave a concerned nod.

“Thank you,” the caller murmured. “But I have to go now.”

The phone went dead all of a sudden, and Rex stood listening to the disconnected line. “He rang off,” he told Helen in a puzzled tone.

“Remorse?” Helen asked.

“For spurning Cassie? He was in an emotional state on Friday night when I spoke to him, but composed enough. He sounded highly agitated just now and a bit incoherent. I just hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.”

“Oh, Rex, I hope not! Ring him back.”

Rex retrieved the number using the 1471 feature code and pressed “3”. The phone rang at the other end, and kept ringing. “I wonder if it’s Ada Card’s number,” he murmured. “I think he’s staying with her.”

“Hello?” an older male voice answered just then.

“Oh, hello! Could I speak to Trey Atkins?”

“The young man who just left? He got in his car and drove off.”

“I’m not sure he should be driving. He’s under a lot of stress.”

“Seemed all right to me. But I don’t know him. I was just passing the pay phone and it was ringing. I felt it would be wrong to ignore it, in case it was urgent.”

“Where is the pay phone located?”

“At Morton’s Petrol Station at the ring road north of Derby. Is he your son?”

“No, but I have a son his age. I was trying to help him.”

“Like I said, he looked okay, but I wasn’t that close and he was wearing sunglasses, so I can’t be sure.”

“Thank you. Can you tell me what he was driving?”

“A Vauxhall Hatchback. Grey, I think, or silver.”

Rex thanked the Good Samaritan once again and replaced the receiver. Helen stood leaning against the wall, cradling her mug.

“Should we ring Ada?” she asked. “Penny will have her number. Should I ask for Trey’s mobile number as well?”

Rex nodded, seriously concerned about the lad’s frame of mind, as was Helen, judging by her expression as she ran upstairs for her mobile phone. He rang Fiske at the station, but was told that neither he nor the sergeant were there. He hesitated to call the inspector at home on a Sunday morning.

He heard Helen talking upstairs and presently she returned with two numbers written on a sheet of notepaper.

“The top one is Ada’s home number, but Penny thought she might be at church.”

This Rex found was no doubt the case when he tried phoning and received Ada’s answering machine. He left a message. His call to Trey’s mobile yielded the same result, and he left another brief message asking that he ring back at the earliest opportunity. Of course, it was possible the police had Trey’s phone and were scouring it for leads.

This was turning out to be a frustrating morning, Rex decided, and it was concerning he could not get hold of Trey.

“Do you think we should send the police after him?” Helen asked.

“I don’t think there’s enough justification. We don’t know for sure he’s suicidal, and he might not appreciate our interference. Plus, he could be miles away from the service station by now.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“We wait. Or rather, I think I’ll go over to the community centre, take a look around the grounds. There’s not likely to be much activity at this hour on a Sunday. Could you hang around in case Trey tries ringing on the land line again?”

“Of course, but let me take a quick shower first.”

While Helen went back upstairs, Rex gathered his wallet and the keys to his wife’s car. He had left his less roomy Mini Cooper in Edinburgh when they had driven down together on Friday morning. The boxes they were not taking were neatly stacked in the main bedroom and two smaller ones were tucked in the broom closet under the stairs, since Helen did not have a garage. He thought of all the wedding gifts at his mother’s house waiting to be sorted. Yet more boxes, he despaired.

“Okay, you can go now,” Helen, wrapped in a bath towel, called over the bannister. “I’ll be able to hear the phone if it rings.”

“All right, lass. What time should I be back for lunch?”

“Julie’s coming at eleven. We’ll probably eat at twelve thirty.”

“Ring me if you need anything. Do we have wine?” Julie liked her white wine.

“I put a bottle in the fridge. Good hunting,” Helen added as he opened the front door.

He certainly hoped to catch a nice lead. And there was always a chance Ada, Trey, or Inspector Fiske would return his call while he was out reconnoitring the community centre. In any case, he felt better doing something active, rather than sitting at home waiting. He only had two days left to make some headway in the case.