The Score Read Online Free PDF Page B

when we spoke,’ he said softly.
    ‘I didn’t know who the calls were from when we spoke.’
    ‘So why me first? Why not just go and see your friend?’
    Thomas’s eyes narrowed in the way that she remembered. She recalled how Thomas was a great weapon to have on your team, a bloody nightmare to hide anything from. Cat met his look, steeled herself not to react, not to fall headlong into his silence.
    Then, abruptly he unsprung his body, the hands now on the desk, clasped in front of him, his posture upright. He looked more than five feet eight, which was all that he was. Only, like many men who were neither tall nor truly short, he made himself seem larger with the force of his personality, something wild and dark that promised a decent fight should anyone rile him sufficiently. Here I am, world, come and have a go – if you think you’re hard enough.
    ‘You’d better start to spill, Price, or I’m on the phone to Cathays.’
    ‘You got phones out here, have you?’
    ‘Yes, Price, and computers too.’
    ‘I saw Kyle yesterday. She was down on the docks reliving her moment of glory.’
    ‘Bet she loved that.’
    ‘She told me I couldn’t leave town on her time. I interpreted that as meaning she’d be fine with me coming up here if I took it as holiday. If you want to call her?’ Cat gave him a don’t-give-a-damn shrug. She let the shrug fade. ‘Something like this, you don’t just rush in. You’d be the same.’
    Thomas considered this and seemed to accept it. He resumed his casual pose, hands folded behind his head, and gave her a smile. ‘You sure you didn’t come to see me? I mean, nobody would blame you.’
    Cat dropped the paper onto the desk. ‘Wouldn’t want to break the hearts of the milkmaids of Tregaron, would I, Thomas?’
    As the paper hit the desk the outer page became slightly detached, and she caught sight of a familiar scene. It was the quay from the previous evening, lit with arc lights. There was the crowd of students in their Griff Morgan T-shirts around the black Volvo. Next to it was another shot of a painfully thin man going into a large house in Hampstead. The piece below had been syndicated from Della Davies’s column. It was only a couple of paragraphs, and Cat didn’t need to read it all to get the gist. Morgan had been released the previous day on compassionate grounds. His melanoma had spread and he had no more than a few weeks left to live. The visit to the set had likely been his final public appearance.
    She turned her back, made her way towards the door.
    ‘No goodbye kiss, Price?’
    She smiled, making sure he didn’t see her doing it. She didn’t reply, just raised a hand of farewell.
    She walked on out of the station and back to the car park. Martin’s address was on the note in her back pocket. It already looked like something that had lain forgotten for too long. Martin could have called her from South Island, New Zealand, she wouldn’t have cared, she’d have dropped everything and come. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen each other for nigh on seventeen years. What Martin had done for her all those years ago needed to be paid back.
    One thing was certain – Thomas being on hand made no difference. His importance rested only on how easy or hard he made it for her to do this job for Martin. She fastened the strap on her helmet. As she pumped the throttle a PC came out to see what the noise was and she swung out onto the road.
    Cat rode up and down the street three times before she found the place. The council houses were identical two-up-two-down structures divided by pathways choked with weeds. Italicised plastic numbers were fixed next to the front doors. Martin’s note gave his address as number twenty-two. Cat found number twenty then, next door, number twenty-one. After that, there was a bank that obscured sodden fields beyond.
    She checked her satnav, punched in the postcode again. Yes, the marker was pointing at the exact spot where she had