Strange Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

comfortable, functional clothes – but that was all.
    Still, he reflected, munching on a slice of toast and marmalade as he scanned the reviews section of the newspaper, things were definitely improving a little each day. It was becoming easier to get out of bed in a morning, and he had got into the habit of occasionally taking a walk up the daleside opposite his flat on the fine mornings, finding the freshness and exercise invigorating. He had also enjoyed what he heard of Penny Cartwright’s singing the previous night and was beginning to miss his CD collection. A month or so ago, he wouldn’t even have bothered reading the reviews in the paper.
    And now brother Roy, who hadn’t even rung or visited him in hospital, had left a mysterious urgent message and had not called back. For the third time since he got up that morning, Banks tried Roy’s numbers. He got the answering machine again, the recorded voice telling him to leave a message, and the mobile was still switched off.
    Unable to concentrate on the newspaper any longer, Banks checked his watch and decided to ring his parents. They should be up by now. There was just a chance that Roy was there, or that they knew what was going on. He certainly seemed to keep in touch with them more than with Banks.
    His mother answered and sounded nervous to be getting a call so early in the day. In her world, Banks knew, early morning phone calls never meant good news. “Alan? What is it? Is there something wrong?”
    “No, Mum,” Banks said, trying to put her at ease. “Everything’s fine.”
    “You’re all right, are you? Still recovering?”
    “Still recovering,” said Banks. “Look, Mum, I was wondering if our Roy was there.”
    “Roy? Why would he be here? The last time we saw Roy was our anniversary last October. You must remember. You were here, too.”
    “I remember,” said Banks. “It’s just that I’ve been trying to ring him….”
    His mother’s voice brightened. “So you two are making it up at last. That’s good to hear.”
    “Yes,” said Banks, not wishing to disabuse his mother of that scrap of comfort. “It’s just that I keep getting his answering machine.”
    “Well, he’s probably at work. You know how hard-working our Roy is. Always got something or other on the go.”
    “Yes,” Banks agreed. Usually something about two shades away from being criminal. White-collar, though, which didn’t seem to count as crime to some people. When Banks thought about it, he realized he really hadn’t a clue what Roy actually did to make his money. Only that he made a lot of it. “So you haven’t heard from him recently?”
    “I didn’t say that. As a matter of fact he rang about two weeks ago, just to see how your dad and I are doing, like.”
    The implied rebuke wasn’t lost on Banks; he hadn’t rung his parents for a month. “Did he have anything else to say?”
    “Not much. Except he’s keeping busy. He might be away, you know. Have you thought about that? He did say something about an important business trip coming up. New York again, I think. He’s always going there. I can’t remember when he said he was going, though.”
    “Okay, Mum,” said Banks. “That’s probably where he is. Thanks very much. I’ll wait a few days and call him when he gets back home.”
    “You make sure you do, Alan. He’s a good lad is Roy. I don’t know why you two haven’t been getting on better all these years.”
    “We get along fine, Mum. We just move in different circles, that’s all. How’s Dad?”
    “Same as ever.” Banks heard the rustle of a newspaper – the Daily Mail his father read just so he could complain about the Conservatives – and a muffled voice in the background. “He says to say hello.”
    “Right,” said Banks. “Say hello back…. Well, take care of yourselves. I’ll call again soon.”
    “Mind you do,” said Banks’s mother.
    Banks rang off, then tried both of Roy’s numbers once again, but still no Roy.