a sense of calm. Mrs Sugden crossed to the table to take the seat vacated by Fitzpatrick. ‘I’ll pour now.’
Fitzpatrick followed me into the dining room where I took pen and paper. I quickly noted that Deirdre had left the nursing home at about 5.30 and had not been seen since.
‘Have you reported her missing to the police?’
‘I have, when she didn’t come back last night. Anthony came for tea, just after you left. It went untouched. We set off for the nursing home to bring her home. I left a note, in case she returned while we were gone. The matron couldn’t understand it. Said Deirdre had gone to catch a tram. We went to Cotton Street to check with her aunts, and then to Millgarth police station.’
‘Do you have any thoughts as to where she might be, however unlikely?’
He shook his head. ‘Between us, we’ve tried everywhere and everyone.’
‘You’re not at work today. Is that because Deirdre has gone missing?’
‘I’m on nights this week, though how I’ll get through the night if she hasn’t come back, I don’t know.’
‘You said to Mr Sykes that a photographer from the local paper saw her near Leeds Bridge.’
He gulped and nodded.
‘Has your wife been downhearted? Might she have thought of taking her own life? Is that why the photographer mentioned her?’
‘No! She wouldn’t jump off the bridge. If she did, with her luck, there’d be twenty bargemen fighting to pull her out. She loves life. I wonder if she was with someone, and that’s what Diamond was trying to tell me. I wish I’d listened to him, to what he had to say.’
‘He could have been mistaken.’
‘Oh no. She made a point of telling me that she’d walked across Leeds Bridge and some fellow had asked her for directions. Are she and Diamond teasing me, tormenting me? Is there something between Len Diamond and Deirdre?’
‘It’s natural that you should be a little jealous about your wife, but try and trust her. It’s you she married.’
‘I think she wishes she hadn’t.’
‘With your permission, I’ll talk to Mr Diamond. I know him. He’ll be discreet.’
There was as much likelihood of Diamond’s discretion as of the king and queen washing their own bed socks.
‘If you think it will help, talk to him by all means.’
‘Do you know what time he starts work?’
‘He’s a law unto himself that man. Who knows what time he starts? He doesn’t clock in, that much I know.’
‘Well try not to worry. Send Mr Hartigan in to talk to me.’
‘What about your fees? Is it the same daily rate you mentioned when I came before? Only you didn’t charge me.’
‘It would be the same. But it may be that your wife will turn up of her own accord, and soon. Let us hope so.’
Fitzpatrick nodded. He pushed himself up from the table with a deep weariness. I guessed he had not slept.
Anthony Hartigan strutted in, chin forward, reminding me of a cockerel in a farmyard.
He did not waste time. ‘It’s worth a lot to me to see everything settled before I go. I didn’t expect to have to arrange a funeral for my ma, but Deirdre’s left me no choice. If you ask me, it’s her way of getting back at me for not coming sooner.’
‘Your family must have been very pleased to see you.’
‘It was meant to be a surprise. Some surprise. My sister took against me, and my ma took fright.’
‘I’m sorry. It is a pity you had so little time with her.’
‘She wasn’t the ma I remembered. Deirdre must have been a baby when I left. But I didn’t remember her at all. She started sending me annual begging letters as soon as she could write.’
‘When did you first see your sister, on this visit?’
A sudden wariness came over him.
I added quickly, ‘I’m wondering whether she said anything, dropped a hint about being unhappy, or having other plans.’
He darted a quick look at me. ‘You were at the races last Wednesday.’
‘I was, and backed the winner.’ Had he seen me with Marcus, I wondered. Marcus had broken his cover to interview Hartigan. I best tread carefully.
‘Me too,’ he smiled. ‘Good old Flint Jack.’
‘I was trying to think where I had seen you before. You were with a chap in a kilt.’
‘Not the cheeriest of companions, but he went home happy.’
That was probably an understatement. With an order to supply prohibition New York with alcohol, he would have gone home cock-a-hoop. If Hartigan had seen me with Marcus,