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She pulled herself together and gave a nod. “Thank you, Detective.”
He turned to Mr. Jaguar. “Name?” He pulled out a pad and paper as he spoke.
“I say, why do you need my name?” Mr. Jaguar was all bluster now.
“Because I witnessed you attempting to attack a traffic warden while she was discharging her duties.”
There was a short silence.
“Name?” DS Archer’s tone was cold and impatient.
“Now, no need for that,” Mr. Jaguar said, backing away, hands up. “Let’s just call it a misunderstanding, shall we?”
“That might be convenient for you, but it’s hardly accurate, is it?”
Gabriella saw Archer was writing down the car’s registration number.
“I didn’t mean the gal any harm.” Mr. Jaguar looked over Archer’s shoulder at her. “Not really. Just didn’t think a fine was fair, is all. I wasn’t parked here long.”
“You meant me harm,” Gabriella said. The adrenalin was still coursing through her, and her hands were shaking. She hated that. Hated that she was close to tears.
She had been closer to tears all day, at every encounter, and she put it down to the nightmares she’d had last night of blue eyes set in dark, bloodstained faces, staring at her.
“Look, let’s just chalk it up to a mistake, all right?” Mr. Jaguar had continued to edge back as he spoke. He had already yanked his door open earlier, and with a surprisingly nimble leap, he jumped into the car, slammed the door and started it up.
Archer watched him stonily as he reversed, clipped a bollard with his bumper, and then roared off.
Gabriella guessed from the tight look on DS Archer’s face that Mr. Jaguar was not as free and clear of trouble with that move as he thought he was.
“Do you get that a lot?” Archer asked as he turned back to her.
“A couple of times a day, but usually just shouting. Not imminent attack, like Mr. Jaguar.”
Archer’s lips twitched. “Mr. Jaguar?”
“He was even worse than Johnny McLad in the yellow Sunliner,” Gabriella said. “Johnny McLad only swore and tore up the ticket. Mr. Jaguar was going to throttle me.” She glanced at the townhouse. “One day, you’ll find his wife strangled in there. Or his mistress.” She turned back to him. “If he claims a burglary gone wrong, don’t believe it.”
“I won’t.” Archer wrote down the address she’d indicated.
“Well, I’m grateful you happened to be driving along.” Gabriella guessed she was a little more nimble than Mr. Jaguar, but he had been pretty motivated. It was a toss up if she would have gotten away.
Archer’s ears turned pink, and Gabriella wondered how a hard-nosed detective could be so embarrassed by a simple expression of gratitude.
“I was driving back to the crime scene,” he said. “I’m glad I came along when I did.”
“Well, thanks again.” Gabriella glanced down the road, saw at least two other cars that were parked on the double yellows. “How’s the case going?”
Archer made a face. “As well as it can. If you can think of anything else, please get in touch.”
She nodded. “I really have told you everything I remember, though.”
“Look, I’m going on to Clematis, would you like a lift?”
She shook her head, pointed down the street. “I’ve still got cars to ticket here.”
He pocketed his pad and pen and walked back to the Wolseley. “Have a good day, Miss Farnsworth.”
She waited for him to start the car, reverse back into the street, and drive away, waving as he headed toward Clematis Lane.