watch Liverpool and he said he got set on by supporters from the other team. I canât remember who it was now. Manchester United probably. Thereâs no love lost there. But I suppose there could have been some other reason, apart from the football, I mean.â
âDo you know if Tom had friends in London when he came down here?â
âWe never really knew where heâd gone. We just guessed it must be London because he used to say how much heâd like to work in one of the big shops in Oxford Street. It was his ambition, like all the boys in the bands want to come down here to make their name now. But I never heard Tom mention anyone he knew in London.â
âBut he could have known someone in the music business maybe?â Barnard persisted. âSomeone else whoâs come down from Liverpool, just like you and your brother?â
âI suppose so,â Kate said doubtfully. âThough I never heard him mention anyone in a band. But every other lad was playing in some group or other the last few years, so itâs quite possible some of his mates did.â
âSo we need to talk to his mates in Liverpool, see what they can remember? See if they might have any idea where he could have gone? Or even if heâs been in touch.â
Kate nodded gloomily. âI suppose so. We asked around when he went but no one seemed to know anything. And what about the family? Will you have to talk to my mam?â
âWe already have,â Barnard said. âWe asked the Liverpool police to call round as soon as you told us who our missing flatmate was. Then theyâll chase up any friends they can trace.â
Kate felt sick and numb. She should have expected that, she thought, but she still could not get her head round the idea of Tom on the run, living hand to mouth maybe, afraid of his own shadow. In spite of being the younger, she had always tended to look out for Tom, protect him, even at times from their father, whose explosive temper had frightened all his children.
She looked at the man on the other side of the table, well-dressed, good-looking but with a bleakness in his eyes which she supposed came with the job, seeking a hint of sympathy which was not there. Her mouth felt dry, the room was airless and she desperately wanted to leave, but she needed the answer to one last question.
âDo you really suspect him of killing this man in the flat? Whatâs his name?â
âJonathon Mason,â Barnard said.
âHow . . . ? How did he die?â
âHis throat was cut,â Barnard said bluntly, knowing the answer would shake her.
Kate went pale and swallowed hard. âTom couldnât have done that,â she whispered.
âIn my experience, people involved in sex can do pretty well anything,â Barnard said flatly, leaving no space for contradiction.
Kate sighed. âI donât see how I can help you,â she said, struggling to hold back tears.
âYou canât, unless he gets in touch,â Barnard said. âIf he does, I want to know about it. No excuses, no family loyalty, no messing me about at all. I want you to phone me. And if I hear nothing from you, believe me, Iâll be in touch with you myself. If he knows youâre in London, youâre the obvious person heâll get in contact with. Do you understand, Miss OâDonnell?â
âYes,â Kate said. âI understand.â But she knew with absolute certainty that if Tom got in touch, she would do no such thing.
Hamish and the boy walked slowly up Farringdon Road, turned left into Rosebery Avenue and then, just beyond the sorting office, alive with postmen and delivery vans, dodged into a warren of derelict bombed sites and the vestiges of former streets until they came out into Grayâs Inn Road.
âAre ye sure ye know where yeâre going?â Hamish asked anxiously as he stood on the edge of the pavement opposite a pub, waiting
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