Page 77 of The Love Letter

‘I know, but he’s such a sweet old chap.’

‘Was he able to talk?’

‘No, not really. When I asked him if he knew who had done this, he whispered something about Rose, and a lady in somewhere who was waiting for him.’ Zoe blew her nose. ‘I think he was rambling. And there was me telling you about him only last night.’

Only last night . . . Was it a coincidence? But how could they have known? Unless . . .Marcus swallowed hard as his blood ran cold. ‘Did you write down what he said?’

‘No. Should I have done?’

‘Yes. It might help the police with their enquiries.’ He fumbled in his jacket pocket for a pen and an old receipt. ‘Write down exactly what he said.’

‘Should I take it to the police?’ she asked as she finished scribbling.

‘Tell you what, seeing as you’re so upset, I’ll do it for you.’

‘Okay, Marcus. Thanks.’ Zoe nodded gratefully and handed the paper to him. Her mobile rang, the noise startling them both. ‘Hello? Yes, Michelle, Mike called me this morning. I know, wasn’t it? I went to see him in hospital and . . .’

When Zoe had finished talking, she put her mobile down on the table, then drained her cup of tea.

‘Marcus, thanks so much for listening to me. I’ve got to head off.’

‘No problem, sis. Call me anytime,’ he said as she bent down to kiss him. Then he sat back and gazed out at the tourist boats and barges chugging along the silver River Thames.

It had dawned on him that perhaps his flat had been bugged. That builder who had turned up . . . When he’d called his landlord, he’d known nothing about it . . . If so, they had heard him and Joanna talking about William Fielding.

If they were paying him to find out what he could, then surely they’d want to make sure they would be the first to know? It was the only way he could think of that others could have known about William Fielding and his association with James Harrison so quickly.

The sound of a mobile ringing shook him out of his thoughts. Puzzled, as it was not the sound of his own phone, he realised it was Zoe’s mobile lying on the table. He picked it up and clicked it on.

‘Zoe? It’s me.’ The voice sounded very familiar.

‘Er, Zoe’s not here. Can I take a message?’

The line went dead at the other end, but not before Marcus had recognised the voice of the caller from Zoe’s film premiere . . .

Castling

A defensive manoeuvre by the rook to defend the king. It is the only time that two pieces may be moved at once

20

‘Come in, Simpson, and take a pew.’

Ian’s head throbbed. He only hoped he wouldn’t throw up all over his boss’s expensive leather-topped desk.

‘Can you explain to me why the job was not completed?’

‘I’m sorry?’

Jenkins leant forward. ‘The old bugger’s still hanging on. He’s likely to die soon, but Zoe Harrison already managed to get in to the hospital to see him. God only knows what he told her. Bloody hell, Simpson! You’ve messed up good and proper on this one.’

‘Sorry, sir. I took his pulse and I was convinced he was dead.’

Jenkins drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘I’m warning you, one more slip-up like that and you’re out. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Ian’s woolly head was spinning. He wondered if he might pass out.

‘Send Warburton in. And damn well get your act together, do you hear?’