To Tell the Truth by Anna Smith Page A

He’d parked his car on the quiet side street next to the beach and taken his surfing board and gear out of the boot. It was a beautiful sunny morning and the beach was deserted. As he was setting up his board with the sail and bits and pieces on the sand in front of him, he happened to look up and saw a guy walking down the beach. He was quite far away from him, but he could seethe figure was definitely male. He’d told police the guy was around thirty something or maybe forty.
    The windsurfer didn’t pay much attention to him, but he could remember that the man was fair haired and was wearing bright yellow shorts. The windsurfer had been having a drink of juice before taking the board into the water. He saw the guy in the yellow shorts go onto the patio of the house and a woman appear at the door and pull it open to let him in. He didn’t see the woman clearly and couldn’t say what she looked like. That was all he saw. He didn’t think anything of it at the time.
    He took his board into the water and the wind took him out to sea. His back was to the shore. The surfer said he had been out for a few minutes, not too far out to sea, then back fast along the shallow waters where the surf broke.
    He could see, as he was heading back to the area of the beach where he’d started, that a woman was running up and down, shouting. Then the guy in the yellow shorts came out of the house and put his arms around her. He was able to tell police that the woman had short, dark hair and was slim. And he was able to pinpoint the house she’d come out of. He said he still didn’t pay much attention to what was going on, and assumed it was a couple having a row. After he dismantled his surfboard and collected his gear, he headed back to his car to drive to his girlfriend’s house for lunch.
    It was only later when he saw something on the Spanish television news about a missing kid, that he realised itwas the same spot as he’d seen the couple. He didn’t go to the police until the next day, and only then because his girlfriend had insisted it was important.
    ‘You did well, Andy,’ Rosie said. ‘It’s a right good line. And it could be significant. It could open up a whole new story.’
    ‘Exactly,’ Andy lowered his voice. ‘So who was the fair-haired guy in the yellow shorts? Martin Lennon’s got black hair. And we’ve already been told the story of that morning, that Martin was out for a jog, and O’Hara only arrived at the house as Jenny was running up and down the beach frantically looking for Amy. So, someone’s telling porkies.’
    ‘Looks like it,’ Rosie said. ‘Is the windsurfer straight? Did you pay him a lot of dosh?’
    Andy nodded. ‘We paid him. But what he told us is basically what he told the Guarda Civil. He’s Spanish. He knows it wouldn’t be wise to concoct a story like that in the middle of a missing kid investigation. And we also have his mate saying he left the house on that morning to go windsurfing.’
    Rosie drank some water. It was going to be a busy day tomorrow, chasing this windsurfer. But by now the cops will have kicked his arse big time for talking to the press.
    Taha’s story was right, if the windsurfer’s story was true. Someone had been in the house with Jenny Lennon. If the windsurfer wasn’t lying, then O’Hara was lying – that’s if he was the guy in the yellow shorts. And it meant that Jenny Lennon was also lying. Maybe that’s why O’Hara was so grey-faced, and why Jenny was so broken.
    Andy smiled. ‘Hmmm. You’re thinking the same as the rest of us, Rosie? O’Hara’s been shagging Jenny Lennon while hubby’s out for a jog. And the kid gets stolen from under their noses. There’s no way in the world they’re going to let that get out. It’s dynamite.’
    ‘Have the cops told the Lennons about the windsurfer?’ Rosie asked.
    Andy looked at his watch. ‘About three hours ago, after I phoned them for a reaction to the information, they went to the Lennon