Dead Tomorrow

through the doorway.
    ‘Hello!’ Glenn said, holding out a beckoning hand.
    The dog deposited a slick of slobber on to the carpet, then waddled towards him. He knelt and patted it. Almost immediately the dog rolled over on to its back.
    ‘Well, you’re a great guard dog, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘And you’re a tart too, showing me your tits!’
    He stroked its belly for some moments, then got to his feet again and picked up the greetings card.
    On the front, in gold, was printed: ‘ TO MY DARLING. ’
    Inside was written, To Janet, the love of my life. I adore you and miss you every second that we are apart. Thank you for the happiest twenty-five years of my life. All my love. Jim XXXXXXXX
    ‘Hope it’s the right strength for you!’
    Glenn closed the card and replaced it. ‘Nice card,’ he said.
    ‘He’s a nice man,’ she replied.
    ‘I can tell from reading it.’
    She placeda tray, with two cups of coffee and a plate of chocolate digestive biscuits on the coffee table, then sat on the sofa. The dog pressed its nose against the plate.
    ‘Goldie! No!’ Janet Towers said sternly.
    The dog waddled away reluctantly. Glenn chose the armchair that was furthest away from the fire and looked at the biscuits, suddenly realizing he was feeling hungry. But he felt it might seem rude to start eating at such a sensitive time for this poor woman.
    ‘I have a few questions for you, further to our telephone conversation yesterday,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind?’
    ‘I’m desperate,’ she said. ‘Anything, anything at all.’
    He turned to the mantelpiece. ‘Are those your children? How old are they?’ Then he watched her eyes very closely.
    They swung to the right, then centred as she stared at him, frowning. ‘Jamie, twenty-four and Chloe, twenty-two. Why?’
    Without answering, he said, ‘I take it you’ve still heard nothing?’
    Roy Grace had taught him, some while back, that you could tell if a person was lying or telling the truth by watching their eye movements. It was an area of neurolinguistic programming. The human brain was divided into left and right parts. Although it was more complicated than Grace taught, essentially with right-handed people, the imagination–or construct –took place in the left-hand side, and the long-term memory and factual stuff took place in the right-hand side. When you asked someone a question, their eyes often moved either to the construct or to the memory side, depending on whether they were lying or telling the truth.
    Glennhad already established, by watching her, that she was right-handed. If he now observed her eyes carefully, he should see them move to the left if she was lying or to the right if telling the truth.
    Her eyes moved sharply to the right. ‘Not a word,’ she said. ‘Something has happened to him, please believe me.’
    He pulled out his notebook and pen. ‘Am I right that you’ve had no word from your husband since Friday night?’
    Again her eyes flicked distinctly to the right.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Has Jim ever been absent for a period like this before?’
    ‘No, never.’
    She still appeared to be telling the truth. He made a note, then sipped his coffee, but it was too hot, so he put it back down.
    ‘Forgive me if I sound insensitive, Mrs Towers–did you and your husband have any kind of argument before he–disappeared?’
    ‘No, absolutely not! It was our wedding anniversary–our twenty-fifth. The night before, he told me that he wanted us to renew our wedding vows. We were–are–extremely happy.’
    ‘OK.’ He looked at the biscuits longingly, but continued to resist. ‘How much did he tell you about his clients?’
    ‘He told me lots about them, if they were interesting–or odd.’
    ‘Odd?’
    ‘He had one guy this summer who hired him to go out deep-sea fishing who turned out to have a penchant for fishing naked.’ She managed a grin.
    ‘Whatever floats your boat,’ he said, grinning back.
    Then, in the awkward silence that followed, he realized that was probably not the best analogy to have used at this moment.
    ‘Sowhat are the police doing about–about trying to find him?’ she asked.
    ‘Everything we can, Mrs Towers,’ Glenn replied, his face burning from his faux-pas. ‘The coastguards have launched a full air-sea rescue team, with support from the RAF, out looking for the boat. They’ve stopped tonight but will resume again at first light. All UK and overseas Channel ports have been alerted. All