Found Guilty at Five by Ann Purser Page A

suitcase in the back of the van. “Child’s play, that was.” He knew her father wanted her back with him for his last few weeks, he said, so he had collected supplies. She was angry and scared, and did not altogether believe his story of her father’s collapse. He was old, yes, eighty-seven next birthday, but had been extremely fit and healthy for his age. But she needed to collect her thoughts. She must ring Jamie, first of all, and felt in her pocket for her mobile. It was not there.
    “Good pocket-picking skills are essential in my line of business,” Parsons said, and laughed.
    She ordered him to give it back to her, but he said she would have to wait until the time was right. There was something threatening about him. She had always felt this, even when he had first come to work for her father. In what capacity she had never discovered, but had often heard him claim to be a representative for Nakamasa’s business.
    She had soon realised, however, that he was far too scruffy and unpleasant to represent anything worthwhile, and she had always suspected he had some stronghold over her father. Ever since she had left Japan, he had shown up at regular intervals with messages, mostly inconsequential, and she suspected he had been sent by her overprotective father to be half minder, half guardian angel, and an unsavoury one at that.
    “I’ve thought of something important,” she said quickly now. “I must let my colleague know that I shall be away for a few days. Otherwise, he will send out a search party, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. He probably won’t be back yet, but his flat’s just round the corner and I can leave a message.”
    “No chance,” said Parsons. “Tell me where he lives and I’ll get a message to him.”
    “I’ll show you,” said Akiko.
    “Which one?”
    “There. Over there. Stop, and let me out. I’ll just leave a message with the woman in the ground-floor flat. She’s an invalid and is usually there. You can come with me, if you don’t trust me.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake, go and find the woman and be back here in two minutes. Or less. We’ve wasted enough time already!”
    Akiko dashed across the road and rang first Jamie’s bell, but as she expected, there was no reply. Then she tried the neighbour, but with desperation mounting, she realised that the woman was also out. Gone to hospital, she guessed.
    Parsons, losing patience, sounded his horn, and Akiko turned away, now in tears of frustration.
    “Good evening, miss. It’s rather late to be out on your own around here. Are you in trouble?” A policeman had approached, and under the streetlight she saw that he was young and smiling. She was tempted to tell all, get rid of Parsons, and find Jamie. But then she thought of her father, and realised that if she appealed for help, this might well delay her journey to see him. Parsons could be telling the truth, and she might even be too late. That thought was unbearable, and she shook her head.
    “Just a lovers’ quarrel,” she said, sure that he would go away. But he didn’t. He produced an electronic device and said, “Your name, please, miss?”
    “I’m not in any trouble,” Akiko protested.
    “Then I’m sure you won’t mind giving me your name?”
    “Jacqueline Dupre, then.”
    “Try again, miss.”
    “I just told you.”
    “Home address?”
    “New York.”
    “I see. Big place, New York. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must just make a call.”
    “You’d get a better signal over there,” said Akiko, pointing to an open space.
    “Where?”
    As the young policeman turned to look, Akiko was on her feet and running like the wind across to the van. Parsons had the engine running, and they were away in seconds. The policeman shrugged. Lovers! And Jacqueline Dupre? What rubbish. What did she take him for? It would have to be reported back at the station, and he could imagine the scorn of his colleagues. He put away his notebook and proceeded on