Lynda La Plante - Blood Line

She gave an odd look and eased herself off the bucket seat. ‘It’s not about me having a pet, is it?’

‘No, not at all. We are looking into the fact that Alan Rawlins has disappeared.’

‘Oh really? I didn’t quite follow what you said earlier. Where’s he gone to?’

Anna smiled, repeating what she had told the caretaker – that they were concerned. Miss Jewell said that she wished she could help.

‘Do you think he’s had an accident, or something like that?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Have you tried the hospitals? He could have been knocked down and got concussion and not remembered anything.’

‘Thank you for your time,’ Anna said, heading out, and Paul followed. As they went into the hall the yapping started up again and Miss Jewell banged on the door and told the dog to shut up.

Anna looked at Paul and said that was a waste of time. He suggested they try Mr and Mrs Maisell as they might have returned from their food shop.

‘Why not,’ Anna agreed.

‘It’s odd, isn’t it, living cheek by jowl and nobody knows anybody else,’ Paul commented.

‘Yeah, but to be honest I don’t know any of my neighbours. Do you know yours?’

‘Not really. In fact, come to think of it, I wouldn’t know them if I fell over them.’

‘There you go.’

They rang Mr and Mrs Maisell’s bell and waited, and were about to turn away when the door was flung open. Mrs Maisell was about four foot five and as wide as she was tall.

‘I was just going to bring them up. Oh sorry, I thought you were Hester from upstairs.’

Anna did the introductions and Mrs Maisell ushered them inside. There were the same beige carpets, but theirs were covered by bright rugs of every shape and size, and the flat was crammed with furniture, paintings and bric-à-brac.

‘Morris? Morris! Can you come out, love?’

Mrs Maisell ushered them into the lounge and it was like an antique shop it was so crammed with furniture.

‘Sit down, dears. MORRIS?’

They heard him before he walked in.

‘Don’t tell me it was that ruddy woman upstairs, we’ve only just got back inside.’

‘It’s the police,’ Mrs Maisell said, wafting her hand as an equally short squat man appeared with a grocery bag. He put it down and looked from Anna to Paul.

‘Has there been an accident?’

‘No, they’re asking about that nice young man from flat two. He’s gone missing.’

‘I wouldn’t mind going missing. We can’t put a foot out of the door without that Miss Jewell coming down to ask us to pick up this or pick up that. She hardly goes out.’

‘Don’t be nasty, dear.’

‘It’s the truth though. And she shouldn’t have that rat of a dog. No pets is part of the lease agreement. In fact, I don’t think the landlord even knows she’s got it.’ Morris squatted down in a large comfortable-looking armchair as his wife scurried to stand beside him.

‘Do you know Mr Rawlins?’ Anna began.

‘Yes, lovely chap. He helped start my car once and gave me a good deal when I took it into his garage. Something was draining the battery.’

‘When did you last see him?’

The Maisells looked at each other and then both gave almost identical frowns.

‘A while back, it must be.’

It was extraordinary as they talked to each other; it was as if Anna and Paul weren’t present. They discussed somebody or other’s wedding and decided that wasn’t the right date. Mrs Maisell eventually said that it had to be a couple of months ago.

‘I was putting rubbish out by the bins and he was coming out to go to work – well, I think he was going to work.’

‘So you never really knew either Tina Brooks or Mr Rawlins?’

‘No, not really.’

‘Can you just try and recall if that last time you saw him he gave any indication that anything was wrong?’

Again the couple conferred with each other and then Mrs Maisell got up and went in a zigzag route across the cluttered room to open a drawer in a small carved mahogany desk. She rifled through it and brought out some flyers from Tina’s salon.

‘She put these through our letterbox, pensioners’ special prices, but I’ve used Audrey for fifteen years.’

‘That’s no use to them, Bea, they don’t want to know about hairdressing. It’s where Alan’s gone – that’s right, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Mr Maisell.’

‘Well, we can’t help you. I’ve never even set foot in their place, but like I said, he seemed a friendly sort of chap. Wait a moment, I’ve remembered now . . .’

They all looked at Morris expectantly.

‘He used to jog in the morning – you know, run round the block – and I was going to . . .’ He sucked in his breath.

‘I can’t remember where I was going, but I know it was early.’

‘The only time you’ve been out really early was when you went to collect Eileen from the station.’

‘Oh yes, that’s right . . . so when was that, Bea?’

Mrs Maisell got up and did another zigzag around the furniture to the desk and opened another drawer, taking out a diary. She flicked through it and then nodded her head.

‘It was exactly ten weeks ago. She’s his cousin and comes from Israel. She got the train from Heathrow to Paddington, that’s right, isn’t it, Morris?’

‘Correct.’

Anna’s patience was wearing thin.

‘So on this morning you saw Alan, Mr Maisell?’

‘He was doing those stretch exercises – you know, standing facing the wall and bending over to ease up the tendons. It was really early because it was quite dark still and I said to him . . .’

Again everyone hung on his words.

‘I said, “You’re an early bird.’”

‘And?’ Anna wanted to grip him by his throat.

‘He said it takes one to catch one.’

‘Is that it?’ Paul asked, becoming as exasperated as Anna.

‘No. There’s something else. I went to the garage, got my car and, as I was driving out, I saw him and he was kicking the wall, like a karate kick, and next minute he was punching it as if he was really angry about something.’

Mrs Maisell had been thumbing through the diary and she now had something to add.

‘I met Miss Brooks a few weeks back – that’s the last time I’ve actually spoken to her. She was in Asda. The reason I remember is I go there once a month to buy those big bags of all-in-one dog meals. They’re cheaper there than anywhere else – not for us, for her upstairs.’

‘I wait in the car park,’ Morris said, looking disgruntled.

‘I was in the checkout queue and Tina, Miss Brooks, was in the next one, and you know it’s always the same, you get in one line and see the other one moving up faster. I saw her and said to her I should have joined her because she started off behind me and then she was ahead of me and then at the till while I was still waiting. Something was wrong with the woman in front of me; her credit card wasn’t going through.’

Anna felt like screaming. Paul stood up and asked Mrs Maisell why she recalled the incident.

‘She had some big containers of bleach – four of them that were this big.’ She indicated with her hands. ‘I said to her, “I hope you’re not doing tint jobs with those”, like a joke you know, because she’s a hairdresser, and she gave me such a look and then said she needed them for the salon as sometimes hair-dye won’t come out of their overalls.’

‘Did you see any other cleaning liquids in her trolley?’

‘I think she had some carpet cleaner.’

‘Can you give us the exact date this incident occurred?’

‘Yes, it was the sixteenth . . . or was it the seventeenth. Well, it was March and it was one of those days. I do the dog-food run every month. You’d be surprised how much that little dog can eat.’