Page 91 of She Saw What He Did

‘What are you daydreaming about?’ he asked.

You don’t want to know, thought Jaime.

He was afraid. Ukraine had been all over the news the past few months. He didn’t know much about politics, but he got the gist that things weren’t good. Had the murder he’d seen been political? He wished he could confide in Josh. It would be such a relief to get everything off his chest, but he knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair on Josh. He chewed on his fingernail nervously. Was he here? Was the murderer in the pub? Sometimes he was. Jaime had even stood at the bar with him once. It had felt surreal. At first he’d been afraid that he’d recognise Jaime. Sometimes when he was that close to someone with the drone it was difficult to remember that they couldn’t see you. Why had he done it? Jaime wondered for the hundredth time. Had it been for money, like him? Why would he kill a Ukrainian? None of it made any sense. He’d have a few more pints and sleep on it. Maybe he’d call the police in the morning. Yes, that’s what he’d do. How the hell did he explain why he’d left it so long? No, he couldn’t risk it. They’d never believe him. It would be the man’s word against his. Jaime somehow knew who the police would believe. He cursed himself for not keeping a copy of the video. The bloke was dead, wasn’t he? Nothing he could do now. After all, he didn’t kill him. Thank God they’d never contacted him to do more work. He’d changed his email details to be on the safe side. He didn’t go in that chat room any more and he’d moved out of his flat to another one.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s get these down us.’

Josh laughed.

‘Next round on you mate.’

‘Sure,’ said Jaime.

He looked around the pub. The killer wasn’t here. He’d try to relax, have a good time. But Jaime found that was easier said than done. Something was going on and it worried him.

*

Weis looked around the hotel room.

‘We have a single room available if you would prefer that,’ said the owner, sensing his hesitation.

Weis frowned. Would Ellen prefer a single room? But if they should … He shook his head at the notion. Nothing like that was going to happen. Ellen was too professional for a start.

‘I’ll book this one,’ he said impulsively.

You never know, he thought.

He paid in advance for the room and left the hotel. He’d enjoyed Ellen’s visits to the mainland. He’d like to take things further. He just wasn’t sure if she was ready. He didn’t want to blow things before they’d even started. That Peter bloke was a real wanker. He couldn’t for the life of him understand what Ellen saw in him. Hopefully, she’d be here for a few days this time. He ought to book a restaurant.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Scott walked up the muddy path to Farmer Richard’s back door. No one was answering at the front. He looked down at his mud splattered shoes and sighed. He’d have worn his wellies if he’d known. There was a loud whistle and Scott turned with a start. Gareth Richards was strolling towards him.

‘Ah, you’re here,’ he bellowed.

He looked down at Scott’s muddied trousers.

‘You need wellies here, son.’

‘You don’t say,’ replied Scott. ‘I did ring the doorbell.’

Gareth chuckled.

‘Everyone comes around the back. Come on in then. Make sure you take those muddy shoes off first. Wendy will have your guts for garters otherwise.’

Scott pulled off his shoes and brushed the mud from the hem of his trousers before stepping into the huge farmhouse kitchen. Wendy was rolling out dough and the smell of freshly baked bread reached Scott’s nostrils.

‘Smells good,’ he said.

‘I’ll make some tea,’ said Wendy smiling.

She looked down at his muddy trousers and said. ‘Don’t you have wellies?’

‘Yes but I thought …’

‘He rang the front doorbell,’ explained Gareth.

‘Oh,’ said Wendy. ‘I don’t think that works.’

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