asked.
‘No.’
Maggie promised to let them know if she recalled anything that might help them. Geraldine thanked her and stood up. Peterson put his note book away. The visit had merely borne out what they already suspected, that the bag used in therobbery had probably come from Maggie Palmer’s market stall originally. They were no closer to finding out who had left it in Evelyn Green’s house on Thursday night.
Back at her desk, Geraldine swore under her breath. She had been hoping the market trader would be able to give them a description of one of the burglars. For all their running around, they still had nothing to go on. She thought of Bennett, months into the investigation, and still nowhere. She forced herself to concentrate on typing up her report. They were only two days into the investigation but the pressure was already mounting. Apart from demands from the Superintendent, the newspapers had reacted to the gas explosion with predictable hysteria. They hadn’t yet discovered the explosion might be linked to the spate of burglaries they had been reporting. Once they cottoned on to that, they would go wild. The police would probably be blamed for the gas explosion, as though failing to apprehend a gang of burglars was as good as lighting the gas themselves.
18
Pretence
‘Police! Police!’ Debbie shrieked at her phone. She gabbled her address at the top of her voice. ‘No, 16A,’ she repeated as loudly as she could, as though someone on the line hadn’t heard the number. She hoped the intruder wouldn’t realise she was shouting into a dead phone. ‘You’ve got a patrol car round the corner,’ she yelled, making an effort to slow her voice down and speak clearly. ‘That’s great! You’re bound to catch him unless he leaves straight away.’ She paused, afraid she was being too obvious.
Footsteps pounded across the hall and a second later the front door slammed.
Debbie sank to her knees. A few minutes passed before she managed to clamber to her feet. Trembling, she pushed the door open and peeped out into the corridor. It was empty. She crept along to the hall. The man had gone. The front door was closed. She turned back and checked her kitchen and living room, even though she knew there was no one there. She was alone in her flat. Crying uncontrollably now, she stumbled into the bedroom and fell on the bed. She was still crying when her phone rang.
‘Hi this is Debbie. I’m not here but please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.’
The phone beeped and her sister’s voice came on the line. ‘Debbie, where are you? Can’t you be on time, for once? We’re all waiting for you. You haven’t forgotten have you?’ She sounded irritated. There was a buzz of voices in the background and then her sister resumed. ‘Call and let meknow if you’re not coming, OK? Otherwise we’ll assume you’re on your way and we’ll wait. Hope everything’s all right. See you soon. Bye.’
Debbie sat up, wiped her eyes and blew her nose fiercely. Then she phoned her sister back. ‘Hi, it’s me.’
‘Deb? Is that you? You sound awful.’
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. If she told her sister what had happened, Jennifer was bound to tell their mother and then Debbie would never hear the end of it. ‘Just a bit of a cold.’
‘Perhaps you’d better stay at home?’
‘No, really, I’m fine. I’m just about to leave.’
‘It’s gone six. You’re supposed to be here already.’
‘I know, I just had a problem at home, but it’s sorted now. I’m on my way.’
‘Debs, what’s going on? Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘Nothing’s going on.’ She felt her resolve waver. ‘Look, I’m on my way, OK?’ She hung up. ‘Bugger,’ she muttered. Jennifer always knew when she was lying. She should have said she felt too ill to go round to her sister’s for a family gathering, but it was too late to back out now. And it wasn’t as if anything had actually happened. She
‘No.’
Maggie promised to let them know if she recalled anything that might help them. Geraldine thanked her and stood up. Peterson put his note book away. The visit had merely borne out what they already suspected, that the bag used in therobbery had probably come from Maggie Palmer’s market stall originally. They were no closer to finding out who had left it in Evelyn Green’s house on Thursday night.
Back at her desk, Geraldine swore under her breath. She had been hoping the market trader would be able to give them a description of one of the burglars. For all their running around, they still had nothing to go on. She thought of Bennett, months into the investigation, and still nowhere. She forced herself to concentrate on typing up her report. They were only two days into the investigation but the pressure was already mounting. Apart from demands from the Superintendent, the newspapers had reacted to the gas explosion with predictable hysteria. They hadn’t yet discovered the explosion might be linked to the spate of burglaries they had been reporting. Once they cottoned on to that, they would go wild. The police would probably be blamed for the gas explosion, as though failing to apprehend a gang of burglars was as good as lighting the gas themselves.
18
Pretence
‘Police! Police!’ Debbie shrieked at her phone. She gabbled her address at the top of her voice. ‘No, 16A,’ she repeated as loudly as she could, as though someone on the line hadn’t heard the number. She hoped the intruder wouldn’t realise she was shouting into a dead phone. ‘You’ve got a patrol car round the corner,’ she yelled, making an effort to slow her voice down and speak clearly. ‘That’s great! You’re bound to catch him unless he leaves straight away.’ She paused, afraid she was being too obvious.
Footsteps pounded across the hall and a second later the front door slammed.
Debbie sank to her knees. A few minutes passed before she managed to clamber to her feet. Trembling, she pushed the door open and peeped out into the corridor. It was empty. She crept along to the hall. The man had gone. The front door was closed. She turned back and checked her kitchen and living room, even though she knew there was no one there. She was alone in her flat. Crying uncontrollably now, she stumbled into the bedroom and fell on the bed. She was still crying when her phone rang.
‘Hi this is Debbie. I’m not here but please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.’
The phone beeped and her sister’s voice came on the line. ‘Debbie, where are you? Can’t you be on time, for once? We’re all waiting for you. You haven’t forgotten have you?’ She sounded irritated. There was a buzz of voices in the background and then her sister resumed. ‘Call and let meknow if you’re not coming, OK? Otherwise we’ll assume you’re on your way and we’ll wait. Hope everything’s all right. See you soon. Bye.’
Debbie sat up, wiped her eyes and blew her nose fiercely. Then she phoned her sister back. ‘Hi, it’s me.’
‘Deb? Is that you? You sound awful.’
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. If she told her sister what had happened, Jennifer was bound to tell their mother and then Debbie would never hear the end of it. ‘Just a bit of a cold.’
‘Perhaps you’d better stay at home?’
‘No, really, I’m fine. I’m just about to leave.’
‘It’s gone six. You’re supposed to be here already.’
‘I know, I just had a problem at home, but it’s sorted now. I’m on my way.’
‘Debs, what’s going on? Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘Nothing’s going on.’ She felt her resolve waver. ‘Look, I’m on my way, OK?’ She hung up. ‘Bugger,’ she muttered. Jennifer always knew when she was lying. She should have said she felt too ill to go round to her sister’s for a family gathering, but it was too late to back out now. And it wasn’t as if anything had actually happened. She
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