Read Blood Line Online

Authors: Lynda La Plante

Blood Line (4 page)

Rose barged in with milky tea in a plastic cup with two handles.

‘Do you want one?’ she asked Anna.

‘No, thank you.’

Rose cleared the tray and placed the tea on the little table.

‘Did you see Alan recently?’ Anna asked her.

‘No, not for weeks. He would drop by here sometimes after work to see his mum – always brought flowers and she likes jelly babies so he’d bring them for her too. She gets confused now and I don’t think she’s realised how long it’s been, but it’s almost seven or eight weeks.’

‘How did you get along with him?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. The last time you saw him, did he seem out of sorts or worried?’

‘No, he was always cheerful. Well, it was a bit put on for her because he was actually very worried about how his father would cope. She’s got worse, but whenever he came she would brighten up.’

Kathleen held the plastic tea cup with both shaking hands.

‘I just said how much you liked the visits from Alan.’

‘I’m not deaf, Rose – no need to shout at me.’

Rose lifted her eyes to the ceiling.

‘This lady is a detective, Rose.’

She threw a look to Anna and walked out.

‘She treats me as if I’m deaf, but it’s not my hearing that’s the problem. And she always puts too much sugar in my tea.’

‘Did you meet Alan’s fiancée?’

‘Who, dear?’

‘Your son’s fiancée, Tina?’

‘Is he coming?’

‘I don’t know, but did you meet his girlfriend?’

Kathleen nodded and plucked a tissue to dab at her mouth.

‘She’s rather common, but I never said anything to him. She wanted to cut my hair, but I didn’t want it short, I’ve always had long hair. She asked if I had it dyed. “My hair is natural,” I said, “and my husband has always liked it, and he sometimes brushes it for me when I go to bed.”’

‘So you didn’t really approve of Tina?’

Kathleen’s pale eyes looked confused. ‘Who, dear?’

At this moment there was the sound of the front door and Edward Rawlins called out, ‘I’m home!’ Anna heard him running up the stairs and the bedroom door opened. ‘Rose said you had a visitor and—’

There was such a bereft look on his face when he saw Anna that she realised he had thought it was his son.

Anna stood up to shake his hand.

‘I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘Rose was eager to leave and she just said we had a visitor. For a moment . . .’

He attempted to hide his emotion by crossing to his wife and kissing her.

‘How are you, dearest?’ he asked.

Kathleen looked confused again and he sat back on his heels beside her. ‘It’s Edward, dearest,’ he said gently. ‘It’s me. Have you had your tea?’

‘Not yet. Rose is bringing it up.’

Edward turned to Anna and suggested they go downstairs and leave Kathleen in peace. She said in an aside to him that Rose had already brought up his wife’s tray.

‘I know she forgets when she has eaten, or forgets to eat. Do go down and I’ll join you in a moment.’

He turned back to his wife, ‘Do you need the toilet?’

Kathleen nodded. It was as endearing as it was wretched to see him help his wife from the chair, but it was too late. Anna could hear him saying he would get her a nice clean nightdress.

Downstairs, Anna was unsure which room to use. She pushed open the door to what looked like a comfortable lounge with a television and gas fire. The furnishings were not as worn, but looked well-used, and there was a tray with a napkin over a plate.

Edward eventually joined Anna and asked if he could offer her a glass of sherry, and although she didn’t want one, she agreed. He was such a sprightly little man, fetching crystal glasses, opening the bottle and placing a small table at Anna’s side. He glanced at the covered tray.

‘Rose will have opened another tin of tuna. She means well, but I sometimes wish I could tell her that I’d prefer to make my own supper. She even manages to mangle the tomatoes.’ He moved the tray away and sat, then lifted his glass and sipped the sweet sherry.

‘Your wife must have been very beautiful,’ Anna began.

‘She was. To me she still is, but I don’t know how long the Social Services will help me, keeping on a carer like Rose. Still, I’m sure you are not here to be privy to our problems.’

His puppy-dog eyes were like a spaniel’s as he asked, ‘Do you have any news of Alan?’

‘No, I’m afraid not, but I interviewed Tina today.’

Mr Rawlins nodded and sipped his sherry again.

‘Your wife wasn’t too keen on her.’

‘Did she tell you that? Well, that surprises me. Kathleen never says a bad word about anyone. She only came here a couple of times. Kathleen’s problems started a while ago, and in the early stages, before she was diagnosed, we didn’t understand her mood changes. She could sometimes say things totally out of character, and she and Tina didn’t hit it off.’

‘She remembered that Tina was a hairdresser.’

‘Ah yes. That’s sometimes so hard to understand – how she can suddenly recall mundane things and then forget the important ones.’

‘She didn’t like her – did you?’

‘To be honest, I had hoped Alan could do better, but he seemed to dote on her, so who was I to say anything? Often, the less said the better, and I sort of hoped that in time he would see for himself.’

‘See what?’

‘She’s a bit of a pushy girl and I know he helped finance her salon, but then when he said they planned to marry I suppose I just accepted it. He is such a shy boy and I thought that having her with him might give him a bit of a confidence boost.’

‘Did it?’

‘I don’t know. He was always very busy and saved every penny as they were buying a house together. I helped him buy this old Mercedes and he was doing it up to sell. We’d done a couple of other cars and he’d always made a profit and split the proceeds with me. He’s as honest as . . .’ His voice started to crack. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to accept the fact that he’s disappeared. It just doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Tell me, did he have another, secret girlfriend?’

‘No, not that I know of, but then he wouldn’t have told me. Well, I don’t think he would have because deep down he knew that we were not too keen on Tina.’

‘Take me through the last time you saw him.’

Mr Rawlins took a deep breath. He explained how they had sat with Kathleen and then come into the lounge to discuss what they should do about future care.

‘He said he was worried about finances and I said I wouldn’t allow her to be taken into a home, that I’d cope somehow. With Rose here it’s not that bad. The only thing is, she leaves at six when I get home, so it means I am sort of trapped here every evening – not that I mind, but it’s hard not to be able to even go out for the odd pint, and then weekends I have her.’

He sipped his sherry.

‘I said to Alan that if the worst came to the worst, I would sell this house. I own it outright, no mortgage or anything, and it’s worth quite a lot of money. I’d be prepared to sell and scale down, maybe rent a place where I could look after Kathleen. This has five bedrooms and . . .’ His voice trailed off.

‘Did he ask you for money?’

‘Alan? Good God no, he earns a good wage, and I know if I ever needed help he wouldn’t hesitate.’

‘Are you aware if he had any enemies?’

‘Not that I know of. He’s not the type to make anyone go against him; he is, whether it’s a good sign or a bad one, very much like me. I have always hated confrontations and he is the same. He’d walk away from a fight.’

‘Did he and Tina fight?’

‘That I couldn’t tell you. We only ever went to the flat the once when they were moving in. Well, I did, Kathleen never saw it. It seemed very modern, but the rent wasn’t too high.’

‘Did you ever hear him say he had argued with anyone?’

‘No. I’ve never known him to get on the wrong side of anyone, not that he can’t take care of himself.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, that was where he met Tina – at the local gym. He works out a lot, he’s very fit, and he goes for a run every morning. He is a fine strapping lad, but even though I would say he could take care of himself, if he needed to, I have never known him get into any fisticuffs.’

Mr Rawlins topped up his sherry, offering to pour Anna another, but she put her hand over her half-filled glass.

‘When you first came to see me, you said that you felt your son had been murdered,’ she said quietly.

‘Yes.’

‘But from what we have just discussed, there doesn’t seem to be anything to indicate to me that that could have happened.’

He took a deep breath. ‘All I know is this. I had a good caring son, a boy who never missed seeing his mother or phoning me to check how I was dealing with it all. Alan had arranged for us to go and see a film, which meant he would have fixed up a sitter for Kathleen. We’d done it a couple of times and it was the only chance I had to get out – not that I am complaining, please don’t think that. He said he would call me back when he’d checked what was on, and that was the last time I spoke to him. That was almost eight weeks ago.’

‘Yes, I am aware of that.’

‘Eight weeks, when there was never a week that passed when he didn’t contact us. All the way through when he was at college, even when he was a teenager, Alan was caring and thoughtful. I love my son, Detective Travis – he is my best friend and he is also someone I admire, and this silence, if you can call it that, is totally out of character.’

He stood up and he had two pink spots on his cheeks.

‘I will sell this house; I will do anything I have to, even if it means hiring private investigators, to find out what has happened. I know he has taken no money and no clothes, not even his mobile phone, but when I first spoke to her, she said his passport was still in the flat. Now she has changed her story again and said to the Missing Persons investigators that it’s not there.’

‘It would appear, Mr Rawlins, that your son may have left of his own choice as his toiletries, some clothing and passport are no longer at his flat. Miss Brooks phoned you when Alan first went missing and it could be that you have misunderstood some of what she was saying at the time.’

‘I haven’t always been a court usher, DCI Travis. I was a qualified engineer and section manager for a very reputable company. I am not a silly old man who misunderstands what he is told, I have a strong bond with my son and I know when something is wrong.’

Anna got up. It was time to leave. She didn’t want to become embroiled in his suppositions since, unless they found any incriminating evidence, she would have nothing else to do with the case. She was really embarrassed when Mr Rawlins moved close to her, too close, and she had to step back.

‘Please help me find out the truth. If he is dead, I will have to cope with it; if he has been murdered I want to know why, and more than that, I want to know who killed him – because, so help me God, that is what I believe has happened. Alan has been murdered.’

Anna could feel the room closing in on her and she was desperate to get out.

‘Will you help me?’

‘Mr Rawlins, I
am
helping you and I will continue to investigate your son’s disappearance, but without any evidence to support your belief that he has been murdered—’

Edward Rawlins interrupted her, shouting, ‘Are you telling me that without a body you can’t treat this as a murder enquiry?’

‘I am, Mr Rawlins, asking you to be patient. I will do everything in my power to hopefully reach a conclusion.’

Mr Rawlins was at the door and she was unable to walk out of the room.

‘A conclusion? What do you mean by that?’

‘Exactly what I said. So far we haven’t found any evidence that suggests your son was murdered.’

‘He has been missing for almost two months, isn’t that conclusive proof that he is dead?’

‘No, it is not. Now please move away from the door, Mr Rawlins. I do understand why you are distressed, but it can’t help the situation. Please let me leave.’

He crumpled and covered his face with his hands.

‘I am so sorry, so very sorry. Please forgive me, I apologise. I’ll show you out.’

Anna hurried down the dank hallway as Kathleen called out from upstairs, not her husband’s name, but Alan’s.

Anna sat in her car, shaking. Her head was throbbing and she couldn’t wait to get home, away from the smells, the obsessive, dapper, desperate father, the vacant blue-eyed mother. She began to think that if she had been in their son’s shoes, she might have upped and gone. Their desperation clung to her and she even contemplated the idea that perhaps Alan had discovered Tina was not the woman he wanted to marry, his parents suffocated him with their neediness and he had just, as in numerous other cases, decided to disappear.

On returning home Anna ran a bath and contemplated washing her hair with a colour enhancing shampoo that she had bought months ago but never used. She read the details on the bottle about how it would boost her natural hue but decided not to bother. Lying soaking in the hot water she wondered if her lack of interest in her appearance was down to her own apathy or the fact that she felt she no longer had anyone to glam herself up for.

In her own fresh bed with a scented candle burning, Anna lay wide awake. Had Alan Rawlins planned his disappearance? If so, they would need to unearth some clue. He appeared to be above reproach – honest, hardworking and caring – but had this shy, yet fit young man had a hidden agenda? Would he, being such a good person, be prepared to walk away from his hard-earned savings?

Again Anna put herself in his place, in that dark house with two needy parents who seemed to have no one else in their lives but their beloved son. She then thought about the featureless rented flat he shared with Tina Brooks, a dominant woman. He’d paid for her salon and yet knew his parents didn’t like her – only two visits in all the time they had lived together.

Anna recalled the many photographs in Kathleen Rawlins’s over-heated bedroom of their perfect son, and she had to agree he was handsome, with his mother’s blue eyes and thick wondrous hair. One photograph stuck in her mind, of Alan carrying a surfboard, looking tanned and muscular, smiling. Anna blew out the perfumed candle, certain that she was correct: Alan Rawlins had arranged his own disappearance, in order to be free of them all.

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