Page 69 of Read Between The Lines

‘I’ve been thinking about that.’ In fact, I’d been doing little else since the middle of the night. It had been an easier worry to pick away at to distract me from my other, Leo-related concerns. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a coincidence.’

‘What is it that Sherlock Holmes says about coincidences? Something along the lines of there being no such thing,’ said Leo.

‘But I thought you had little faith in Sherlock Holmes as a detective? Besides, Conan Doyle isn’t exactly consistent in pushing that line. Let’s examine the facts. Oxford is an expensive city with limited places where a jobbing actor could afford to rent. The more affordable housing– and I use the word “affordable” in the loosest possible sense– tends to be in the Cowley and Iffley Road area, which is where I live. There are loads of shared houses around there in addition to the usual student accommodation. Besides, I did a search online last night. It turns out there is a theatrical digs in my street, and it’s been established for some time. I’ve gone back through all my messages with the scammer, looking for any clues I might have given him about where I live. I was taken in by his spiel on the app to start with, but I was never so naïve as to say anything which would have allowed him to work out my address, I’m absolutely certain of it. Have a little faith in me.’

Leo pushed the coffee pot towards me, offering a top-up which I gratefully accepted.

‘I do have faith in you. A lot of faith,’ he said. ‘But there are other means whereby he could have found your address. It doesn’t take a genius once you’ve got somebody’s full name, which you did share with him pretty soon. Plus, he knew where you worked and could have followed you home. Maybe he thought you own the whole house rather than living in a flat, and that’s why he targeted you?’

‘But there are clearly two separate entrances to my building, and two post boxes,’ I reminded him. ‘If he had gone to the extreme of following me, he would have presumably also carried out a much more thorough background check and realised that the effort-to-reward ratio in targeting me was simply not worth it. I’m a librarian earning barely more than the living wage. I’m not a secret heiress, more’s the pity, and disappointingly I’m not sitting on a vast savings account. The only way I can afford to live alone is because Moira and Rami took pity on me and gave me a generous discount on rent. My one financial extravagance was joining SO Ox, and that turned out to have a cost far higher than I’m willing to pay.’

Leo took his time finishing his drink before he replied.

‘I suppose you’ve got a point,’ he conceded, but I could still see the worry in his eyes. ‘Okay, so maybe him living nearby isn’t such a huge consideration, but there are plenty of other risks.’

I reached out and took his hand. ‘I know that, but they’re mine to take. I’m not going to waste any more time allowing fear to get in the way. I need to take back control and set my own narrative, rather than passively letting things play out.’

As I said the words out loud in my effort to convince him, I finally accepted their truth myself. I was tired of believing that negative voice in my head that told me I wasn’t good enough or brave enough or strong enough. Actually, I was more than enough, and I wasn’t going to let anxiety hold me back any longer. Yes, it was one thing to declare this from the safety of Leo’s kitchen several miles away from the situation, but I knew I would find the strength to handle whatever Blake threw at me, and then whatever happened with Leo after that. Being afraid had left me standing lonely in the hallway. If I’d been bolder and more confident earlier, maybe I could have been on the other side of that door, lying next to him in bed as we came up with a plan together.

Leo’s eyes raked my face, as if trying to see beyond my expression to glean my true thoughts. Eventually he nodded.

‘Okay, let’s do this.’

‘Good. I’m grateful for your support.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s what anybody would do.’

I wasn’t sure I agreed with that. Leo was one very special individual.

‘There was one other thing I was going to do, but I’m not sure it’s strictly legal, so if you don’t want me to tell you about it, that’s fine,’ I added.

Leo frowned. ‘You can’t say something like that and expect me not to want to hear what it is. I’m not in the police force anymore, so I’m not under any obligation to report what you do. Providing it’s within reason, of course.’

I grinned, wondering what he thought I might be up to. ‘I’m going to covertly record my conversation with Blake Jenkins. And, even if he doesn’t confess, I reckon the contents of the recording would still be pretty damaging to his acting career, if they were to ever get released on the internet.’

‘Ah, so you’re going to indulge in a little light blackmailing? A cunning idea, Ms Fisher.’

‘Exploit your opponent’s weaknesses: that’s another bit of vital self-defence, isn’t it, Mr Taylor? Blake Jenkins obviously still wants to make it in showbusiness, otherwise why would he be living in theatre digs and performing at a little-known regional venue? We’re not law enforcement. We don’t need to convince a jury that our suspect is guilty. We just have to convince our suspect that we’ll make life miserable for him unless he starts to behave himself.’

‘I definitely wouldn’t want to get on your wrong side,’ said Leo. ‘It’s a good idea, and I’ll agree to it on one condition.’

‘I’ll remind you that I don’t need your permission.’

He nodded. ‘Of course you don’t. But we’re partners. In this investigation, I mean,’ he added hastily. ‘And partners never let each other go anywhere without providing backup. So, if it’s okay with you, I’ll sit at a nearby table in the coffee shop. I promise I won’t get involved unless you want me to. But at least if Blake starts getting funny with you, as you put it, you know I’ll be ready to help in any way that I can.’

‘That sounds reasonable. And thank you for looking out for me. You can consider yourself employed as my bodyguard.’

ChapterTwenty-Seven

Even though I knew that Leo was lurking in the spot by the bins only metres away, I still felt incredibly exposed waiting for the man formerly known to me as Brian James by the stage door several hours later. The area was clearly not set up for admiring fans wanting to get a selfie or an autograph with a star. This was a purely functional exit and, judging by the detritus on the ground, it was probably also the place where theatre staff came to take their smoking breaks. I was conscious of the CCTV camera focused on me, but I pretended to be absorbed in checking my phone, hoping I looked innocuous enough, while I wondered how long it would take Blake Jenkins to emerge.

Leo and I had been two of a mere handful of audience members sitting through the matinee performance ofThe Glass Menagerie. Blake had played the role of the narrator and protagonist, Tom, who started the play by warning the audience that everything that followed might not be strictly true because it was based on his interpretation of events.

‘Speaking his own truth, rather than the actual truth, sounds about right,’ Leo had muttered under his breath disapprovingly, although he’d soon quietened down. I figured that, like me, he’d been so caught up by the story that he’d put his feelings about the duplicity of the leading actor to one side. When I’d last seen the play, I had particularly empathised with the character of Laura, a shy young woman who was trapped by her insecurities. I was afraid that, if I wasn’t careful, I was still in danger of being too similar to her. But there was a big difference between us: although I definitely felt the fear about confronting Blake, and then about what might follow when I opened up to Leo, I was determined to act anyway. I wanted to take control of my own destiny.

‘He’s a powerful actor,’ I’d said as the applause faded and the house lights came up.

‘We always knew he was good. Maybe if he directed all his energy into acting rather than getting distracted by scamming, he’d get his big break.’

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