Apportionment of Blame Read Free Page A

it was a warning. A strange warning, but certainly the message was clear. Stop investigating Helen’s death, or a similar fate could await you.”
    â€œUs.”
    â€œYes.”
    We were staring at each other now.
    â€œSo she was murdered,” Joyce said slowly, as if not wanting to have to say it, but having no option.
    â€œIt looks like it.”
    â€œI was right, although I feel no better for that.” And then in a very matter of fact way, “So what do we do now?”
    For once the answer came easily and quickly.
    â€œThere are two things we have to do. Find the link between Essex and here. There must be one. And try to find someone who saw what happened to you in the garden.”
    â€œOK then,” Joyce said and got up.
    â€œBut not today, and take your time,” I said. “Enough has happened to you for one day. We should wait till tomorrow. It will give you time to get over the shock that could easily hit you later.”
    Joyce nodded.
    â€œI tell you what,” I suggested with as much enthusiasm as I could muster, “let’s go across to the garden. You can show me where it happened, and then we can go and have a drink somewhere. How about that?”
    â€œAll right,” she said.
    I got up and reached for my coat from the stand in the corner.
    â€œAre you feeling well enough to go out now?”
    â€œYes. I think so.”
    â€œCome on then.”
    As soon as we reached the corner of Euston Road I recognised the building I had seen and walked past so many times before. White, square cut stone, greying with pollution, a pillared frontage above steps in the centre, and a flat roof. It looked quite grand - almost Greek.
    â€œHow come these Friends have a building that size? They must be pretty well off.”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    We waited for the red light to change, then crossed and walked past the front of the building. At the far corner there was a sign for a book shop and beyond that a stone wall. Behind the wall was the corner of the garden.
    It was a simple garden, but well cared for. Two squares of grass surrounded by borders of plants, with a paved path around the outside and down the centre. The magnolia tree dominated the side of the garden furthest from the building, and I could see the bench beneath it in the light of the street lamps.
    We walked up to the top of the entrance way and looked down the steps to our left. The garden was deserted.
    â€œWhere’s the seat you said someone was using?”
    â€œDown there. Look,” and she leaned over the balustrade to point down at the edge of the paving by the base of the steps.
    I looked across the scene, wondering how I could make out anything useful; wondering if there were clues somewhere waiting to be found.
    But ultimately and ironically the darkness made it clear there was nothing to see.
    â€œThere’s nothing we can do here tonight,” I said.
    â€œLet’s leave it till morning and see if anything can be done then.”
    Joyce came up close and looked up into my eyes.
    â€œYou will try, won’t you?”
    â€œOf course I’ll try. I said I would, didn’t I.”
    I said this with as much confidence as I could muster, which wasn’t a lot at that precise moment.
    â€œCome on. Let’s get you that drink.”

Chapter 2
    T hat night I had a dream. It was one of those weird experiences when I was watching from above as things happened to me.
    I was walking up and down inside a huge factory. It was some sort of metalworks, perhaps a steelworks as there were enormous rollers with sheets which kept sliding past me. It was all very noisy and confusing. I was looking for something, but I had no idea what. Suddenly someone was trying to push me onto the rollers and I had to fight for my life to stop it happening.
    It was unusual for me to have a dream so vivid and I woke suddenly, feeling disoriented as my brain tried to drag itself back up