Page 42 of The Wedding Cake Wish
‘True.’
‘Why would you go missing?’
‘You might be running away from something?’
‘Or someone. Maybe Brendan Myers has threatened himand he thought his only option was to disappear?’
Hudson nods. ‘Of course there’s always the chance thatsomething’s happened to him and hecan’tget home.’
I’m about to close the door when a voice behind me says,‘Hi, there. Is Rory away on holiday, do you know?’
We turn to find a woman, who looks to be in her forties,standing there in the doorway to the next-door flat. She has lots of curlybrown hair and she’s wearing a plastic apron bearing a Merry Christmas greeting.There’s a dusting of flour on her cheek. ‘I took his bin out for him last week andthen had to take it in again when he didn’t reappear. He’s never usually awayfor more than a day or two, so I was starting to wonder if he’d gone on holiday– except he usually tells me.’
I glance at Hudson. ‘Actually, we’ve no idea where he’s gotto.’
Hudson holds up the key. ‘We were hoping we might find someclues in his flat. His mum gave us the key.’
‘Oh, dear.’ The woman frowns and moves onto the landing, herarms folded. ‘I hope nothing’s happened to Rory. He’s such a lovely,gentlemanly chap. I’m Linda, by the way.’
We shake hands and introduce ourselves, and Hudson says, ‘Sowhen did you last see him, Linda?’
She frowns. ‘Ooh, let’s think. It must have been a week pastThursday.’ She nods. ‘Yes, that’s right. I’d been to my yoga class and I gotback at about eight, and I remember seeing a figure in a black coat with a hoodstanding at his door. The light in the stairwell had gone off so it was quitedim, and I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. But they were talking andI remember thinking it was strange that even though it took me ages, fumblingto get my key in the lock because the light was so bad, Rory didn’t even seemto notice me. I turned round and said something like, ‘At last! I’m in!’ But hedidn’t even reply. I don’t think he was even aware of me being there, he was soengrossed in talking to this...person.’ She shakes her head.‘And early next morning...it must have been about seven,before I got up...I heard him locking the flat and runningdown the stairs. And I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Gosh, that’s strange,’ I murmur. Thinking about theblack-hooded stranger at Rory’s door causes a little shiver of dread to runalong my spine.
‘Did you hear anything later?’ Hudson asks. ‘After you wentback into your flat?’
‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘Not a thing. Mind you, I do tendto have my soaps on fairly loudly while I’m in the kitchen making a snack afteryoga.’
‘I’m sure he’ll turn up.’ Hudson’s tone is reassuring.
I nod in agreement. ‘We’ll let you know when we find him.’
Linda smiles. ‘I’d be grateful if you would. I’m fond ofRory. He’s a lovely next-door neighbour.’
Once inside, we glance around.
It’s a small, neat two-bedroom flat, and Rory – who his mumsaid was an IT consultant – is clearly using the second bedroom as an office.
‘What about that hooded figure Linda described?’ I murmur aswe search around the kitchen for anything interesting. ‘Do you think that mighthave been one of Brendan Myers’ men warning him off?’
‘It does seem significant that he took off early the nextmorning after his mysterious visitor. At least he wasn’t taken against hiswill. Not then, anyway. But who knows what happened to him after he left hisflat.’
I open and close a well-ordered cutlery drawer. The drawerbelow contains an eclectic mix of everything – from bottle-openers to fuses,local takeaway menus to elastic bands – but nothing to suggest where Rory mighthave been heading last Friday morning.
A shiver runs through me. ‘Oh, Rory, where the hell areyou?’ I glance through the mail we picked up when we entered. ‘We need to findhim. The people who love him need answers.’
‘He’s certainly got some impressive technology in here,’calls Hudson, and I follow his voice into the office next door.
I gaze around the room at the big modern desk and chair, andthe high-spec computer and massive screen. ‘Fen says he’s brilliant at computerprogramming. He created the remote firework display in Sunnybrook last BonfireNight.’ I shake my head. ‘I’m so clueless with computers. Cookies and chips arethings youeatin my world.’
He laughs, a real belly laugh. ‘You crack me up sometimes,Miss Watkiss.’
‘Thank you, Mr Holmes. We make a good team.’
‘We do indeed.’ His phone starts ringing. ‘Hang on. It’sAmelia,’ he says, the smile disappearing. Answering it, he wanders out into thehall and I try my best not to listen, but end up hearing every single word.
‘Yes. Yes. That sounds good. Okay. Eight o’clock in the Swanbar. See you later.’
