A Question of Guilt(72)

‘So you had a wasted journey,’ Mum said sympathetically when I got home, but I had the feeling she was actually secretly relieved. Josh and his warnings of doom had worried her, I knew.

We headed off to Bristol, Mum driving, and spent a few hours with Dad, who was still making slow but steady progress.

When we got home again, I thought I’d have a session on my computer. I left Mum watching television and went up to my room.

I’d tucked my laptop in its case under the small upright chair behind the door, and I bent to pull it out. But the moment I went to lift it I knew something was wrong. Though the case was still zipped, as I’d left it, there was practically no weight to it at all. I put the case on to the bed and opened it.

It was empty. My laptop had gone.

For a moment I stared at the empty case scarcely able to believe the evidence of my own eyes.

So the burglar had been upstairs after all – had stolen my laptop as well as Dad’s computer. I hadn’t realized it was missing before because the case had been zipped up again and replaced where I’d left it. Naturally I’d assumed it hadn’t been touched.

Naturally! The mess downstairs, the emptied drawers, the overturned photograph, even the TV removed from its stand and stacked by the fireplace, was typical burglar behaviour, especially if, as I suspected, the culprit was some young thug looking for something to sell for drug money. But a leather case zipped up and replaced in its original position after the laptop had been removed? I’d never have suspected that in a million years. And why hadn’t he taken case and all? It made no sense whatever.

But there was no getting away from the fact: it had been stolen. Unless I was going quietly mad and had left it in Dad’s office after I last used it. That must surely be the explanation. The burglar hadn’t come upstairs at all, but had taken it at the same time as taking Dad’s computer.

‘My laptop’s gone as well,’ I said to Mum, going back downstairs.

‘Oh no! Oh Sally, all your work!’

‘Well, I’ve still got it on a memory stick, thank goodness,’ I said, ‘but much good will that do me with no computer to run it on.’

‘You’ll just have to get another,’ Mum said. ‘And we’ll have to replace Dad’s, too. There’s no way we can manage without it. We’ll get on to the insurance company first thing in the morning, and they’ll tell us what to do.’

I nodded.

‘They’ll say we can go ahead, I’m sure,’ I said.

But the bad feeling I’d had ever since Alice failed to keep her appointment with me this morning had intensified. Since I’d begun this investigation everything seemed to be going pear-shaped. Could it be that Josh was right to warn me I was playing with fire? Was there something going on that was more than sheer bad luck?

I shivered. Perhaps it would be wise to give up on my enquiries. Perhaps if I did all the bad things that were happening would stop. But that was nothing but foolish conjecture, surely. No way could there be any connection.

Could there?





Fifteen


It didn’t take me long, of course, to put all such thoughts out of my head. I’d never have had them at all if my nerves hadn’t been so on edge, I felt sure.

The afternoon flew past. By the time I’d spent what seemed like hours on the telephone talking to the insurance company, it was time to get ready to meet Josh, and I’d barely had a moment to so much as think about my investigation, let alone do anything to further it.

Whilst I was waiting for Josh, however, Rachel rang to ask after Dad, and when we’d covered that, she mentioned our proposed trip to see Dawn’s mother.

‘I don’t suppose you’ll want to go to Dorset this week with your dad in hospital.’

Instantly all my enthusiasm for my project returned with a vengeance. Dad was out of danger now, and if I didn’t take Grace Burridge up on her offer to talk soon, she might change her mind.

‘Actually, I don’t think Dad would mind if I missed visiting just one day,’ I said. ‘In fact, it would give some of his friends a chance to go and see him – loads of them have been asking, but the hospital aren’t keen on him having more than two or three at his bedside at any one time, and so far that’s been me and Mum.’

‘OK,’ Rachel said. ‘In that case, I could make Thursday, if that suits you and Mrs Burridge. Steve’s working from home that day, so he’d be on hand to pick up the children if we should get delayed.’

‘It would be fine by me. I’ll ring Mrs Burridge tomorrow and let you know what she says . . .’ I could hear a car outside; Josh had arrived and there would be no time for me to make the call now.