Evanly Bodies - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,84

truth, I'm glad someone's going to make an example of these three."

Evan looked at him and understood. As if in answer to Evan's unasked question, Bragg went on. "Now take my ex-wife. She could play the helpless female whenever she wanted something. And she usually got it too, including enough alimony to keep me a pauper for life. . . ."

Evan could not have been more relieved when his mobile rang at that moment. He excused himself and went outside to answer it. It was Bronwen again.

"Evan, where are you?" she asked, her voice sounding sharper than her usual soft tones.

"Having a drink with Bragg and the lads in Colwyn Bay," he said. "I'll be home soon."

"No, listen, this is serious. Can you meet me in Bangor as soon as possible?"

"What is it, love? Has something happened to Jamila?"

"No, not Jamila. I've got her parents with me now. We're driving down in their van. It's Rashid they're worried about."

"Rashid-what's happened to him?"

"They don't know, Evan, but they're really worried. Apparently he went off the deep end today when he heard that Jamila was in protective custody, and they're scared he may do something silly."

"Like what?"

"They've found notes in his room on making explosives for one thing."

"Oh my God." Evan groaned. "That's the last thing we need right now. All right. Where do you want to meet?"

"We're going straight to the house where he's living now."

"I'll see you there," he said.

He ran back inside and tried to make his excuses. Bragg already had two pints inside him and was at the belligerent stage.

"What is it now, Evans. Don't tell me you've discovered it wasn't the three women after all, or are you about to solve another great crime single-handed?"

"No sir. This is a personal matter. Helping out some neighbors of ours who are in difficulties."

"Boy Scout as well as Poirot." Bragg's dislike of him was as clear as his own dislike of the man. "Well, off you go then. Can't keep the world waiting for your talents."

"Thanks for the drink, sir." Evan took a last gulp then went out into the night. It was cloudy with a threat of rain in the air, and the road surface was slick and black. Luckily there was little traffic, and Evan drove perhaps faster than he should. He arrived at College Street, parked, and waited for the Khan's van. Up the hill ahead of him the campus shone with lights, and wafts of music floated down to him-fiddles and flutes and drums beating out a lively rhythm. He remembered the banner advertising the Celtic festival. Celtic Pride celebration, he believed they had called it. He turned his attention away as he heard an elderly vehicle chugging up the hill-an ancient, dark blue van that came to a halt behind his own car. Mr. and Mrs. Khan climbed out, followed by Bronwen. Her face broke into a relieved smile when she saw Evan, and she ran over to him.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said. "I don't know whether they are overreacting or not, but it's good to have you around, just in case."

Mr. Khan refused to acknowledge Evan's presence and strode across the street to the house where Rashid was boarding. His wife flung a woolen shawl over her shoulder before she followed him. One of the young men had come to the front door. Mr. Khan let out a flood of Urdu. The young man scratched his head in embarrassed fashion.

"Sorry, pops, but I don't have the language. Born over here, you know, and my parents didn't bother to educate me properly. What can I do for you?"

He listened again. "I've no idea where he went," he said. "We don't keep track of each other, you know. He comes and goes as he pleases."

A second youth had joined them. "Rashid? He's just renting a room here," he said coldly. "His crazy notions have nothing to do with us. We thought he was just talking big. So don't go blaming us if he wants to become a martyr."

"A martyr?" Mrs. Khan shrieked. "Oh my God, what's he going to do?"

Evan glanced back up the hill where the beat of a drum had now started up again. "The Celtic festival," he muttered to Bronwen. "He wouldn't be stupid enough, would he?"

And without waiting for an answer, he started to run.

The quad at the top of the hill was strung with lights and packed with young bodies, some of whom were moving to the beat of