Page 56 of Teacakes & Tangos
Alarmed, I pulled on joggers and a T-shirt, brushed my teeth and wrestled my feet into my trainers without bothering to untie the laces. Then I rushed out to catch the bus into Sunnybrook. If it was bang on time, it would arrive in just a couple of minutes.
I didn’t have to be at work until twelve so I had plenty of time. And I’d drive Dad’s car in if I had to. But I just had to see the photo that Lyndsay seemed to be so worried about.
I’d tried calling her back but it had gone straight to answerphone, so I’d left her a message asking her to call me.
The bus was actually a minute early today – Sod’s Law, I supposed – and I had to run like the wind to catch it. Breathlessly, I asked the driver about the free paper the buses usually carried first thing in the morning, but he said he didn’t have any on board yet. (More evidence of Sod’s Law.)
As we travelled the mile or so into Sunnybrook, I thought about how shocked Lyndsay had sounded on the phone. It wasn’t like her to be overly dramatic about things. In fact, shewas one of the most level-headed, logical – I might even say, cynical – people I knew.
That photo must have really spooked Lyndsay for her to call me immediately in such a panic. My insides shifted uneasily. What on earth could it be?
I hopped off the bus in Sunnybrook and started trekking along to the railway station, about half a mile out of the village. I’d seen copies of the free local paper on a stand there sometimes – and sure enough, I spotted them as soon as I walked through the door to the ticket office.
My heart beating fast, I pulled a paper out from the rack and hurried over to a bench outside the station. Sitting down, I took a deep, calming breath and unfolded the newspaper to look at the front page.
Facing me was a story about the police investigation into the Sunnybrook jewellery robbery. ‘Police Seek Man in Jewellery Shop Raid’, screamed the headline in big bold letters.
But when I saw what Lyndsay had been talking about – the photo beneath the headline – I felt myself go cold with horror. I knew now why she’d been in such a panic about it.
It was a head and shoulders shot of a man, presumably taken by a security camera on the high street. It wasn’t the clearest photo – in fact, it was decidedly grainy – and the man was turned away from the camera, visible only in profile.
It looked like Xander. Exactly like Xander.
Lyndsay must have looked at it and immediately thought she recognised him. But it couldn’t be him. It simply couldn’t.
I stared at it, shaking my head, refusing to believe the evidence of my own eyes. Xander wouldneverget involved in something like this!
How could Lyndsay have believed even for one second that it was Xander in the photo?
It was eerie how much it looked like him. If I hadn’t got to know Xander really well and I saw this photo, I’d probably have looked at it and thought it was him as well. It was probably just the angle of the photo that made the resemblance seem so uncanny.
Then, as I looked more closely, a cold hand gripped my heart.
I could see that there was a small tattoo on the side of the man’s neck – the side that was turned towards the camera.
A feeling of light-headedness took over and I thought I might faint.
It was a tattoo of a flower.
An iris . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
My head was spinning in confusion.
Couldtwo menhave decided to have thesame imagetattooed on them inexactly the same placeon their bodies?
EvenIwas forced to admit that this was too far-fetched to be true.
Slumping back on the bench, I tossed the newspaper aside and stared ahead at nothing.
What was Xander’s photo doing here, in connection with the raid on the jeweller’s shop? It had to be a mistake.
Feeling sick with dread, I picked up the paper and scanned the story. Apparently, there had been three men involved in the robbery, two of whom had already been caught.
But a third man had evaded capture – and the police were hoping that the public would be able to identify their suspect from the image of him caught on CCTV...
I could see an alleyway and bins in the background of the photo, so he must have been emerging from the back door of the jeweller’s – and he’d been caught just as he was pulling off a black balaclava, so his face was visible. Except that he was turned away from the camera so he could be seen only in profile.
