Part 30 (2/2)

'h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo, what seems to be the trouble?' he inquired.

Ellie and Dalziel turned to face him.

'I just came round here to tell Mrs Farr her lad's off the hook and your missus flew at me like a mad ostrich!' said Dalziel, all hurt innocence.

'All I did was tell May not to trust the fat sod!'

Pascoe moved so that he could see Mrs Farr who was sitting down, partly screened by Dalziel's bulk. She was pale and clearly distraught.

'For G.o.d's sake you two, why don't you have your squabbles somewhere else?' he said angrily. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the woman and took her hands in his. 'It's all right, Mrs Farr,' he said.

'Is he telling the truth, this one?' she asked, looking him straight in the eyes. 'Ellie says not to trust him, he's likely just lying to find out where Colin's hiding.'

Pascoe glanced towards Dalziel, who said bluntly, 'He's off the hook.'

'He's telling the truth,' said Pascoe to Mrs Farr. 'He'd not lie about something like that, not to me anyway.'

Dalziel looked ready to dispute this a.s.sertion, then pulled on a conciliatory expression like a nylon stocking over a bandit's face.

'But Ellie's not altogether wrong,' he said, 'I do still want to find the lad. Before he comes to any harm.'

Pascoe followed his gaze to Ellie. Her cheeks were still flushed from argument and her eyes were bright. Usually he felt proud and turned on when he saw her in full Valkyrie flight, but this time he felt separated from her by Colin Farr who had occupied her mind so exclusively that she had been able to ignore May Farr's distress.

'Why did you come back, Ellie?' he asked quietly.

Still she looked defiant, then May Farr said, 'For G.o.d's sake tell him, woman. Do you not trust your own man?'

The reproof seemed to bewilder Ellie, then the tension ebbed from her body and she said, 'Oh s.h.i.+t. He asked me to tell May he was all right. Peter, he was hiding in my car. I dropped him off along the road that runs up to the pit. He went up into the woods on the left-hand side.'

'Gratterley Wood,' said Mrs Farr dully. 'He'll be up by the White Rock, isn't that what you said, la.s.s?'

Ellie said, 'He asked me to get Mr Downey to bring some food up to him.'

'And have you seen this Downey fellow yet?' demanded Dalziel.

'Yes. I went to see him first, before your spies got on to me,' flashed Ellie.

'd.a.m.n.'

'It's all right. I just saw Downey cycling down the main street,' said Pascoe.

'Good. Mebbe we can catch him.'

'You don't think Colin's going to hang around once he sees you lot, do you?' demanded May Farr.

'There'll just be the two of us,' said Dalziel. 'I don't want to scare him off, just get close enough to let him know the heat's off. Sergeant Swift, you know where this White Rock is, I dare say?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Right. Let's go.' He headed for the door, closely followed by Swift.

Pascoe looked at Ellie.

'It'll be all right, won't it?' she said.

He didn't dare to ask what she was talking about but said, 'Yes.'

Outside, Dalziel said, 'We'll take your car, Peter, in case there's any rough driving.'

They got in, Swift in the back.

He said, 'Head for the main street.'

As he drove, Pascoe's mind was filled with a nagging unease.

'Why are we still chasing around after an innocent man, sir?' he asked.

'Why's an innocent man not bother to tell us he's innocent?' said Dalziel. 'That farce with Mycroft. He hates the guy. Why not just point the finger at him instead of blackmailing him into helping him escape?'

'Perhaps he felt partly responsible for Satterthwaite's death.'

'So what? He hated him too. In fact, come to think of it, there aren't a lot of people young Mr Farr likes.'

'So what's your theory, sir?'

'No theory, lad. But a man who doesn't give a toss about being chief suspect for a murder he didn't do isn't someone I want running round loose.'

They had pa.s.sed down the High Street. Now at Swift's instruction, they swung left up the lane alongside the Welfare Club.

'It gets a bit rough,' said Swift, 'but if you can get round this bend we'll be out of sight of nosey eyes.'

Pascoe managed it with some slight protest from his silencer box as it grated against a stone, but it wasn't concern for his undercarriage that made him stop. Up ahead was another car blocking the way.

They got out and approached it. From the damp bloom on its paintwork and the yellow leaves clinging to the roof and bonnet, it had been there a little while, overnight at least.

'It's that reporter's,' said Swift. 'Boyle. I saw him in it the night Farr chucked him through the window.'

Dalziel swept his hand through the screening dampness on the front window and peered inside.

'Nowt,' he said. 'Except a cauliflower on the back seat.'

'The boot?' suggested Pascoe.

Dalziel came round the back, sniffed, shrugged.

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