The Reunion

Chapter 3

THE ALLEGED MURDERER'S DAD

Although Chris Duncan had given me an address for his father, it was still fairly difficult to track him down. Normally I would have sat in my car watching the house, like a bad surveillance guy in a crap cop film or TV show. The only thing I didn't have on my windscreen were those recyclable takeaway coffee cartons. I always took a large flask and a proper cup. However, today did not feel like a normal day.

The address he had given me was a little village in Cornwall that was near the coastal resort of Portreath. I had arrived on a lovely summer's day a week before the schools were due to break up. I had managed to park on the road as I had noticed that the fees in the actual seafront car park were extortionate to say the least. I had gotten there about ten, because of an accident on the A38, I knew I should have gone the A30 way, so had missed the school run and Brian Duncan, Chris's dad,

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leaving for work – well, that's what I thought.

It was quite warm already so I didn't need a jumper. As I walked through the car park towards the beach I noticed the wind was getting a little stronger. I leant on the railings which I guess were there to stop cars from falling on the walkway and, then, sand below. It would not have stopped people as they could easily climb over though. To my right was the sea wall that had been badly damaged by Storm Helena in 2014. The pier meandered out into ocean. There was a large rock pool where a couple of people were taking a swim before the tide came in. Gull Rock stood proudly in the sea just to my left. Not sure how it got its name as I couldn't see any birds on it. Rumours had circulated, circa 2016, that a great white shark was patrolling these waters as a dolphin had been washed up on this very beach with a massive bite taken out of it.

I decided to leave my car where I had parked it and walk back to survey the house. I walked past the harbour and a new development which used to be some shops – one of them allegedly made the best saffron buns in the world. But, unfortunately, these closed down not long after the Brexit fiasco of 2018/19. Cornwall had been hit hard during those years but was now making a bit of a comeback. It took me about quarter of an hour to get back. There was a pub opposite the house which is always a good vantage point. I got there about midday

I ordered a crab salad and a cup of tea. It tasted okay. I've had better but I'd certainly had a lot worse. The tea was fairly warm – not hot – but drinkable. I managed to get a seat next to the window so I could keep

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an eye on the house. For the next three hours, and five cups of tea and two saffron buns later, I had witnessed no comings or goings. I knew the next hour or so would be crucial but, as I was getting some funny looks from the bar staff, I elected it would be safer to move. I walked up the hill to my right as I exited the pub. Then I turned around and walked back down. That wasted all of fifteen minutes and, apart from traffic, I hadn't seen anyone else on foot. I took out a road map that I had folded away in my back trouser pocket. These were always a useful tool. Made you look like a tourist but could also get you into conversation with your "target".

Somehow I managed to avoid being questioned for the next three quarters of an hour to an hour. No one came to the house that Chris said was his father's. This could mean anything; he was still at work – he was on holiday – he didn't live there anymore. I had expected someone to be walking here. A neighbour, perhaps, who had children. But there was not a soul. I decided to cut my losses for the day and head back to my car. Tomorrow would be a different day.

I arrived early, about 7:45. I actually parked in the pub car park. I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. I looked at the clock on my dashboard – twenty past nine, it read. Not a soul. I got out of car and walked over to the house. I knocked on the door. I wasn't really surprised that there was no reply. However, a neighbouring door did open. An elderly woman stuck her head out and looked directly at me.