Chapters (49)
- Cover
- Table of Contents
- Also by Graham Hurley
- LIMELIGHT
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- AFTERWARDS
The nearest shop selling mobile phones is in Exmouth. I drive over and part with a modest sum in return for a pay-as-you-go Doro. I register it in my own name and load it with £150 worth of credit. Back in Budleigh, I park outside Evelyn’s bungalow and knock on McFaul’s door. When he finally appears, he looks wrecked. There’s a darkness beneath his eyes and he doesn’t smell good. He blinks, stares at me, rubs his face, and then stands aside and says I’m welcome to come in, but I shake my head. I have to go back to London, I tell him, but before I hit the road, I have a little present I want to give him.
He stares at the box that contains the phone, then glances over his shoulder as if someone’s watching and shepherds me on to the pavement.
‘Why do I want one of those?’ he asks. ‘I hate the bloody things.’
‘Just take it, Andy.’ I give him the pre-loaded Vodafone card. ‘There’s quite a lot of money on there, and no one can trace it to you. I don’t know why, and I don’t know when, but one day you’re going to need it. Here’s my number. Phone if you need me.’
That’s it. I don’t want to say any more. Seconds later, I’m gone.
I say my goodbyes to Evelyn, promise to phone her the moment I get back home, and then set off. Try as I might, I can’t get the image of McFaul out of my mind. After maybe half an hour, still deep in East Devon, I spot a place to stop and pull over.
My call to Bill Penny is answered within seconds.
‘Enora,’ he murmurs. ‘What a lovely surprise.’
‘It’s Andy.’ For once I have no time for small talk. ‘You need to keep an eye on him.’
‘Might I ask why?’
‘Maybe you should go round and take a look at him. See what you think. Promise me you’ll do that? Please …?’
TWENTY-ONE
Lunch with Rosa next day comes as a relief. Back in London, I feel suddenly rooted again. Normal is taking a cab to our favourite eatery in Covent Garden. Normal is ordering a bottle of decent Chianti to go with the scallops to come. Normal is listening to my lovely agent listing the treats that lie in store if only I can lay hands on Pavel’s elusive final opus.
‘Charlie wants to mount a retrospective. He says he’s got the backing for it, but he needs just one last bullet for that gun of his.’
‘The missing file.’
‘In one, my lovely. Are you absolutely sure it’s gone?’