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.Finally, he heard leisurely footsteps approaching and Marc opened the door, talking ostentatiously into the phone.With barely a glance at Joe, he turned and wandered back into the house.Following, Joe passed through a long kitchen extension which smelt of frying and vinegar and gas, into a living room with speckled terracotta wallpaper, a Romanesque dado frieze, a low sofa with a cream fake-fur throw that had seen cleaner days, and a hi-fi playing easy listening.A large frizzy-haired girl with pencilled eyebrows and hard eyes sat slumped on the sofa, picking at a bag of crisps.She met Joe’s ‘Hi’ with a long expressionless gaze before returning to the magazine on her lap.Joe glanced out of the window and saw a murky area formed by a wall and the back of the kitchen extension.Removing the Guardian appointments section from a wooden chair, he sat down and felt the traffic vibration resonate in the chair frame.Continuing his phone conversation, Marc strutted backwards and forwards across the room, clad in a sweater which showed the breadth of his shoulders and the solidity of his stomach, an effect somewhat spoilt by the thigh-switching plumpness of his legs, which gave him a slight waddle.It was impossible not to overhear what he was saying, nor to realise this was the intention.‘Denial of due process, Steve - that’s grounds for constructive dismissal.Their refusal to address the issues - that definitely amounts to harassment.You have the right to go straight to tribunal, you know.And if they try to block you then they’re in breach …’When he finally rang off, he snapped the phone shut with a smooth flick of the wrist, like a trick he’d seen in the movies and been.practising ever since.Joe got to his feet.‘Thanks for this.’Marc tightened his lips to show he thought he was being pretty generous too, and shifted his stance into something more comfortable for the trying time ahead.‘Okay to talk now?’ By which Joe meant in the hearing of the frizzy-haired girl and to the accompaniment of the soundtrack from Gladiator.Marc let his eyelids droop for a moment, and in the absence of other information Joe took this as a yes.‘Your father said you’d spoken to Jenna.’Marc liked that.It allowed him to say, ‘That’s not something I’m prepared to discuss with anyone outside the family.’Apart from the police, Joe thought.‘Can you tell me when she called?’Marc did the eyelid droop again, though this time it seemed to signal a no rather than a yes.‘Was it on Monday night?’A grim little smile gathered at the corners of Marc’s mouth.This was proving to be far more fun than he’d dared hope.The silence that followed was all about who was going to give in and speak first.‘Okay,’ Joe said in his most reasonable tone.‘Can you confirm that the police have got involved?’‘Correct.’‘On what basis exactly?’‘Couldn’t say.’‘Well, what are they doing exactly?’‘They have the facts.I couldn’t say what conclusions they might choose to draw, or indeed what actions they might choose to take, if any.’It wasn’t often that Joe was driven to thoughts of violence but for a tantalising moment he imagined what it would be like to punch Marc in the centre of his dough-like face, to deliver a neat little jab straight to the fleshy nose.‘You don’t worry what might happen once the police turn up on Jenna’s doorstep?’‘I don’t follow you.’‘You don’t think she’ll look on it as an unjustified invasion of her privacy?’Marc folded his arms and went through a pantomime of restraining himself with the greatest difficulty, puckering his mouth and flaring his pudgy nostrils and taking long noisy breaths through his nose.‘Really,’ he declared in a voice that sang with righteous indignation.‘You’ve got a nerve!’‘Look, I don’t want to interfere - believe me - but supposing I had it on good authority that she doesn’t want to be found?’A series of expressions flitted across Marc’s face, but the one that lingered longest was a sort of triumphant disgust.‘I get the picture.I get it.You’re in contact.’ He made it sound like a contagious disease.‘Yes, yes …’ He nodded furiously, as if this explained everything that was wrong with the entire planet.‘You’re in contact with them.Or’ - he gave an unpleasant little snort - ‘should I say him Now why do I think I don’t need to ask that question? Why do I think I know the answer?’‘They don’t want the police involved.Marc.’‘Says him, right?’‘I think he speaks for both of them.’‘Says him.’‘Whichever, there’s no way they’re going to agree to sell the house.Marc, no way they’re even going to discuss it, while the police are involved.’The Gladiator music had moved on to the arena theme, the bit where the tiger tries to eat Russell Crowe, and the room was filled with the bass crescendo of cinematic tension.‘How was that again?’ said Marc.It might have been Joe’s imagination, but he looked shaken.‘Can we kill the music first?’Maybe the girl was waiting for the chance to hear better, maybe she had the remote control in her hand, but the music stopped almost immediately, and the silence gave way to the rumble of the traffic two walls away.‘What I said was they’re not prepared to sign anything while the police are clumping about.’Marc had heard all right the first time, but he’d wanted a bit longer to prepare his speech.‘Well, I’ve got news for you,’he declared in a virtuous tone.‘Your friend can make all the threats he likes.It won’t make the slightest difference.This isn’t about the house, this isn’t about the money, and he’s making a big mistake if he thinks it is.’‘What is it about then?’‘It’s about my sister’s welfare! And her right to self-determination!’Joe thought he had kept all expression out of his face but Marc quickly added, ‘You seem to be having trouble with that idea, Joe
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