Chasing Innocence by John Potter Page B

hand. ‘So what else do you know?’
    ‘Not much,’ Adam lied, considering what he would say. He told Brian the detail that encompassed Sarah’s initial three voicemails, up to her driving along the M4. He omitted the number plate and the detail of Delamere, summarising Boer and Ferreira in the briefest terms.
    Brian listened intently without interrupting. When Adam finished he leaned back in his chair, chewing his lip, the moustache moving like a small animal. ‘So did they say what they were doing about it?’
    ‘The police? No, they just said they will contact me when they have news, or need to talk again.’
    ‘You haven’t heard anything?’
    ‘I did only leave the station thirty minutes ago.’
    Brian’s dark eyes fixed on Adam. ‘Your wife, that’s some woman. Nobody follows anyone like that. Most people would convince themselves nothing was wrong, would rationalise it and walk away. I bet you could repeat that scenario a thousand times and nobody would jump in a car and follow a stranger.’
    ‘Do you think so?’
    ‘I know so, people don’t pay attention anymore. They’re too scared of what might happen if they step outside their own world. Yet your wife is off and running.’
    ‘She saw the box, it…’
    Brian stopped him. ‘That’s not what I’m on about. I mean it takes something to actually follow a stranger, given what she thought the guy just did. It takes something else to keep following. That or you’d have to be crazy.’
    For all his rough edges Brian had whittled the detail down to the fundamental issue as quickly, if not quicker, than Boer and Ferreira. Adam laughed nervously. ‘What can I say, she’s a motivated woman when she gets going.’
    ‘You got that right.’ Brian set his glass on the table. ‘You haven’t heard from her since?’
    ‘Nope.’ He decided not to say anything else. Thirty minutes had to be up soon. ‘So your last name is Dunstan,’ he offered, trying to move focus away from Sarah.
    ‘Sure is.’
    ‘So, Andrea Dunstan. That’s a cool name, kind of makes her sound like a Saxon princess.’
    Brian drained the remainder of his drink before answering. ‘Pity that’s not her name then. Her mother didn’t give her my name. I’m only on the birth certificate so she can shaft me for child support.’ He looked down at his watch and then back at Adam. ‘I gotta go, where do you live?’
    Adam was shocked. ‘What, I…um, why?’
    ‘We still have things to talk about.’
    ‘We do?’
    ‘Of course. For a start you haven’t told me everything, but I’m not going to hold that against you. I wouldn’t have either. Me and you have a lot in common though.’
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘Something missing, of course. Andrea is a small ray of light in a world of fucking dark. I’ve let her down. So I’m going to think a few things through, factor in what you just told me. Might as well do that at work as anywhere. Then I’ll head over, then we’re going to decide what’s to be done about it.’
    ‘Do, done what?’
    ‘Your address?’
    ‘But, the police. They are…’
    ‘Just give me the bloody address, Adam, it’s not like I’m asking you to hand over the sodding keys.’
    Adam stammered but relented, as much from not having a viable reason to say no.
    Brian hoisted his wet coat as he stood. ‘See you later then.’ He walked out of the pub and across the street. By the time Adam finished his second whiskey Brian had re-emerged outside the club in a smart white shirt, dark trousers, and the obligatory long overcoat. Adam checked his phone, no missed calls or messages. He was still reluctant to go home but where else could he go? He walked back into the night and the rain, nodding in reply to Brian’s wave and heading towards the deserted taxi rank.

TWENTY-ONE
     
    The entrance to the alley was lit by street lighting that quickly faded to inky dark, with a line of trees silhouetted at the back of the houses. Sarah stood in shadow beside