Page 50 of Return Ticket

Very interesting.

And annoying, because until that moment, he was having a very good evening with Gabriella.

James stepped out into what was now full blown fog, and heard Clark coughing as he scurried away.

Perhaps he hadn’t considered that James had to know where he lived. Either that, or he wasn’t thinking at all, just operating on panic and nerves. Because he was headed straight for home.

James followed after him, but he didn’t try to hide his footsteps and he moved fast.

Clark didn’t seem to understand he was being chased until a few moments before James grabbed the back of his coat. He gave a final, flailing burst of speed when he realized James was breathing down his neck, but it was too late.

“Mr. Clark.” James didn’t make it a question. “I’ve been looking for you. Detective Sergeant Archer, of the Met.” He pulled Clark back a little, spinning him by the shoulder, and lifted his warrant card. “You in a hurry?”

Clark looked at the card, looked at James, and then swallowed. “No, no. Just didn’t want to be caught in the fog. It sets my cough off something awful.” He coughed again, but James thought this time it was a little forced.

“Well, we can go back in the pub, if you like?” He didn’t want to go back to Clark’s house, as it was at least a five minute walk away, but he accepted that if Clark suggested it, he’d have to agree.

“Can’t we talk here?” Clark asked.

“Sure,” James said, easily. “I’m following up about the report you submitted regarding your wife going missing.”

“My wife—” He wasn’t putting on the surprise.

James wondered what he had thought this was about.

“Oh. Well, I thought she’d gone to her mother’s but then her mother rang up up to chat with her, and we realized she was missing.” Clark was slowly regaining his composure.

And the mother had threatened that she would report her daughter missing if he didn’t, James guessed.

“Any indication that she might have gone somewhere else?” James asked.

Clark shook his head. “After I talked to her mother, I did a more thorough look around, and saw that all her clothes were still in the house, and so was the only suitcase.”

This was looking bad, James realized. “Can you think of any reason why your wife might disappear without leaving word of where she was going?” James asked.

“Hatty?” Clark shook his head. “She kept to herself, except for her bridge evenings, where she’d play with a group at the library.”

“And when did you see her last?” James asked.

Clark looked down at the ground. “Last time I saw her was the day I left for a short trip three weeks ago.”

James’s head lifted. “You only filed a police report a week ago.”

Clark shuffled his feet. “That’s because I thought she was off to her mum’s, see?” He glanced up. “I was a day late coming home from a sales trip, and I knew she would be angry about it. I’d forgotten to let her know that I’d decided to stop an extra night on the way back and meet up with a friend.”

“Name of the friend?” James asked.

Clark hesitated. “Do you really need to know?”

“Name,” James repeated.

Clark sighed. “Just don’t tell the missus when she comes back, all right? She’ll leave me for real then.” He shook his head. “Loretta Smythe.” He gave the address, which was just outside London.

“How long were you away?” James asked. “Including the night spent with Ms. Smythe?”

Clark winced at that. “Five days.”

“And you never spoke to her on the telephone in that time?” James asked.

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