Page 74 of Return Ticket

She nodded. “I was working for the Ministry of Agriculture during the war, and I was on my way home. We’d had some crisis and I was late getting on my way, so it was already dark.” She clasped her hands together loosely, and James saw she was wearing a massive diamond ring.

“My husband was away, fighting in the war, and so when what looked like an officer came up to me, I honestly didn’t feel even a twinge of nerves.” Her lips quirked to one side. “He asked me for directions to the pub, and I turned to point the way.” She shrugged. “That’s when he swung at me.”

She stood suddenly, as if she couldn’t remain still, and James thought her agitation was telling. Even after all this time, the memory affected her.

“With his fist?” James asked.

She shook her head. “Something else. I felt the air pass by my cheek as I jerked back, and something, maybe the way he held it, or his angle, told me it was a hammer or something like a hammer.” She leaned against the wall and looked out the front window, then turned to him. “If he had managed to land that blow, I have no doubt I wouldn’t be here, talking to you now.”

James thought she was probably right. “What happened next.”

“He shoved me to the ground, and it was like my throat was paralyzed, my voice was gone.” She grimaced. “And then, when I hit the ground, I suddenly drew in a huge breath and screamed.”

James saw her hands were fisted by her side. On the mantelpiece, near where she stood, was a series of photographs of her, with what looked like her husband and children.

“Someone came to the rescue?” he asked.

She smiled for the first time since they had begun speaking. “Someone came to the rescue. A woman coming home, like me, cutting through an alleyway to the main road.”

“A woman?” James thought the bystander had been a man, but he realized now that the report hadn’t specified.

“Jessica Tate. Still my friend, to this very day.” Mrs. Gallagher smiled again. “She was like a dervish, swinging her handbag like it was a mace from the Medieval period.”

“And he ran off?” James asked.

“He ran, but when he realized Jessica was a woman, and a small one at that, he paused.” Mrs. Gallagher caught his eye, gave a nod when she saw he understood what she was saying.

“You think he was going to come back?” he asked.

“Until Jessica’s screaming roused a couple more people,” Mrs. Gallagher said with a nod, “definitely.”

“To finish the job?” James asked.

Mrs. Gallagher shook her head. “To pick up his glove, which he’d dropped.”

“It was definitely his?” he asked. Excitement prickled down his arms.

She nodded. “Definitely. He wanted it so badly, but when Jessica’s antics brought more people, he gave up and ran.”

“That is very helpful. Thank you very much.” James stood. “Did you notice anything about him regarding the way he looked?”

“Dark hair, brown eyes, medium build,” she said, without a moment’s hesitation. “He stood over me with murder in his eyes, DS Archer. His face is burned into my memory.”

He gave a nod, and she took him out to the hall and opened the front door.

James saw Hartridge doing a slow drive past, and gave him a wave.

“Why have you come to ask me about this now?” Mrs. Gallagher asked.

“We have some new information,” James said. “And the case was never closed.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I’m pleased to hear it. And I hope you get the bastard.”

chaptertwenty-nine

It waslong past the end of her shift, but Gabriella had been persuaded to wait in Mr. Greenberg’s office, and so she was standing in front of his map when James knocked on her boss’s door.

Mr. Greenberg rose from behind his desk and came round to shake James’s hand. “Terrible business, what happened to Gabriella,” Mr. Greenberg said. “But the one thing that has put my mind at ease is that she was able to discover no one in this office shared her route. She was being followed by a cyclist employed by Mr. Tanner.”

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