The Trawlerman, стр. 22

Up on the bank, they sat with their backs to the lights of the house and the power station, looking into the darkness of the nature reserve, a low black horizon dotted with stars and the silhouettes of the delicate geometry of electricity pylons.

‘That was crazy tonight. Did you see his mad face? Was that black boot polish, or some Vietnam-era Rambo shit? He must have been hiding in there all the time I was on my own.’

‘The Unknown Male,’ said Alex.

‘Yeah. I wonder if he was.’

‘Promise not to tell Zoë. She’d freak out if she knew that happened to me.’

‘You’re scared of her, aren’t you?’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘I think she’s the most amazing girl in the world.’

‘But I’m still scared of her sometimes.’

Jill laughed, blew out smoke. ‘Fags are so horrible, aren’t they?’ She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages.

‘Anything?’

‘They haven’t found him yet. Not likely to in the dark.’

There wasn’t much point looking out there at this time of night. They would send officers to scour the area in the morning. Alex went back into the kitchen and pulled the second bottle out of the freezer, then picked up a blanket. Zoë appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Is that Jill?’

‘Want to come and join us?’

‘Is she drunk?’

‘Not yet.’

‘You’re OK.’ She turned and went back up to her bedroom.

Alex went back out into the darkness.

‘Why was he even there? I mean . . . it could be him, couldn’t it? He probably had guns.’

‘I didn’t see one.’

‘Someone like that . . . all ninja’d up. You think they could get in and out of a house without leaving prints?’

Alex picked up a stone and lobbed it into the blackness, listening to it land with a quiet chink.

‘Something else,’ said Jill. ‘Digging into the Younises’ accounts, turns out that in March, Ayman Younis paid out four hundred thousand pounds to invest in a green forestry scheme in Guatemala. It’s called Biosfera Reforestation.’

‘Jesus. Big money.’

‘Very big.’

‘Lucre, lechery or lunacy. The three great reasons for murder. You’re looking into it?’

‘That’s quite poetic,’ said Jill. Her glass was empty again. ‘Course we’re looking into it. It was one of them schemes where they plant trees for carbon offsetting. They’re supposed to be a good investment because they’re backed by local government and the UN and whatever. Put your money in, you can’t possibly lose.’

‘But you’re going to tell me different?’

‘Maybe. There are some web pages online but I couldn’t find a contact number anywhere. Turns out the Fraud Intelligence mob have a mega file on them.’

‘He put his money into some scam?’

‘They’re sending us some information tomorrow.’

‘He had a lot of money then?’

‘Yes. Looked like it. Gorgeous house. Everything kind of perfect, you know? She was all into animal charities and the Ramblers. He was Savile Row suits and Church’s brogues in the cupboard. New car every couple of years. They liked to keep up appearances, know what I mean? The only person who ever had a bad word for them complained about how they would outbid other people at the Rotary charity auction. Hardly the worst of sins. Ayman liked people to know he was well off.’

Alex thought of what Terry Neill had said: All he wanted was to be part of all this.

Jill stood. ‘I’m hungry, Alex. I was going to get a takeaway when I got home. All that running around in the dark and I’m starving. What have you got? I could eat anything, right now. Mind if I take a look in your fridge?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Want anything?’

Alex lay on her back looking up at a starless night sky. It was true what Jill had said. It would have been crazy for her to chase the Unknown Male into the darkness, when she had no idea if he was armed, or whether he was the murderer, but she would have done it had Jill not been there. It scared her to realise that. Nothing would have stopped her. Not following him deeper into the copse had left her feeling strangely empty.