‘He went out like a light. Absolutely rat-arsed. He’s only fifteen,’ Janine finished telling Sarah as they sat lounging on the settees.
‘He’ll be fine.’
‘I worry – I’m his mother. Young lads and booze.’
‘They all do it. Probably won’t even have a hang over.’
Sarah cut some more cake for them each and settled back, shifting the cushion to get comfy. This dislodged a pile of Janine’s work, which slid off the couch and onto the floor. Gruesome photos of Matthew Tulley’s corpse uppermost.
‘Yeugh!’ Sarah scrabbled away from them.
‘Whoops!’
Eleanor, wrapping her present in the kitchen, heard the scream. ‘What?’ she shouted through the serving hatch, eager with excitement.
‘Nothing!’ Janine and Sarah spoke in unison.
‘Sorry,’ Janine mouthed and cleared up the folder, putting it in her briefcase. ‘Bedtime, Eleanor,’ she called out.
Sarah settled back and started playing with Janine ringtones, trying to find something tolerable. ‘So, the lovely Richard?’
‘Had to put him off.’ Janine shrugged. ‘I’d forgotten what it’s like. Someone enjoying your company.’
‘Ask him over for a drink. It’s not that late.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why not?’
Janine dismissed the idea. ‘How are you anyway?’
‘Not brilliant,’ Sarah gave a rueful smile. ‘It’s my mum’s birthday, today,’ she paused. ‘Was. Fifty-nine.’
Janine nodded. She knew how hard Sarah had found the last couple of years since her mum’s death. There had been countless evenings when Sarah had come round, just needing to be with someone. Janine moved over and gave her a hug.
Sarah sat back. Lifted Janine’s phone again, scrolling through the directory. ‘Ring him.’
‘No,’ Janine protested.
‘Why not?’ Sarah found Richard’s entry and pressed call.
‘I’m not going to ring him!’
Sarah gave a wicked’ Handed the phone to Janine saying, ‘You just have.’
Janine bared her teeth at Sarah but continued to hold the phone.
‘Boss?’ Richard answered.
Janine rolled her eyes and mouthed ‘Boss’ to Sarah. ‘I wondered, if you still fancied… wanted a drink, you could always come round here. Taxi home?’
‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ he said. ‘Bout half-an-hour?’
She ran round like mad trying to sort the house out a bit and make herself presentable. When she heard him ring the doorbell she opened the door with a smile on her face – only to find a uniformed policeman there.
Janine scowled. He held out his ID for her. ‘Mrs Lewis? PC Durham. Michael Lewis your son?’
Janine nodded.
‘Sorry, I tried earlier. Michael was involved in an incident at the Trafford Centre yesterday.’
‘I know.’
The officer was surprised. ‘He told you?’
‘He didn’t want to report it.’ She was puzzled. If he hadn’t reported it why were they here?
‘The other lad did. The victim.’
Ah – a cock-up. She shook her head. ‘Michael was mugged,’ she said clearly. ‘They were trying to get his mobile. Someone’s got their wires crossed.’
‘If I could have a word with Michael.’ As if she was inventing. this. Bloody, cheek.
‘No. It’s late and he’s asleep.’ And the worse for wear. ‘You go back and get your facts straight and then you can talk to him.’
PC Durham gave her an ingratiating smile. ‘Now, Mrs Lewis…’ he began in a patronising tone.
‘Detective Chief Inspector Lewis, actually,’ she said curtly. ‘Good night.’
Ferdie rang the mobile number that he’d been given while Colin watched. ‘Hiya,’ said Ferdie. ‘It’s about tomorrow – the delivery.’
‘Oh, right. Everything still okay?’
‘Cool. What time?’
‘Where are you?’
Ferdie gave him Colin’s address. ‘It’s under the fly over, a caravan.’
Colin glared at him.
‘Second one along once you reach the end of the lane.’
‘Yep. ‘Bout two?’
‘Right.’
‘And we’re still talking two grand?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ferdie. ‘Catch you then.’
‘Yep.’ He closed his phone. He felt edgy. Not surprising with all the grief the cops were giving him. Substantial bloody harassment, that’s what it was. Needed to chill out. Colin didn’t help, the duhbrain, acting like a condemned man all the time.
Richard looked breathless when he arrived. For a moment she was amused, wondered at his eagerness. Then she clocked it – something had happened.
‘What?’
‘Just heard. We’ve got the knife.’
She threw back her head and raised her fists in a gesture of triumph. ‘Yes!’
Richard opened the bottle of wine he’d brought and poured himself a large glass. Janine filled her orange juice up and they went through into the lounge.
‘I’ll see the bloke who found it first thing, rough sleeper on the booze.’ He gave a grimace – might be waste of time. ‘And forensics will get back to us soon as they can confirm whether it’s our weapon and see if we can link it to any of our suspects. If Mr Vincent picks Ferdie Gibson out of the line-up…’ he speculated.
‘Why would Ferdie wait till now?’ She thought hard, turned to Richard. ‘Try this: Lesley Tulley gets someone else to do the deed but the clothes are washed at her house and she gets rid of the weapon.’
‘Motive?’
‘The someone was a lover? In go-faster stripes?’
Richard laughed. ‘Can you see her sleeping with Ferdie Gibson?’
He had a point. Would any woman sleep with Ferdie? ‘She hired him then. A lump sum, he gets his revenge.’ They both considered this for a moment. Janine pulled a face. ‘Would you trust Ferdie with a mission like that? And why? Why would Lesley kill Matthew?’
‘The other woman?’ Richard suggested.
‘We’ll get there. It’s a good enough team.’
‘Butchers is not exactly a bundle of joy.’
‘Not tonight he isn’t,’ she recalled the bollocking she’d given him when she was at the supermarket. ‘And Shap’s all mouth and trousers. Butchers is feeling the pressure, trial separation. You know what it’s like, people outside the job can’t relate.’
‘And people inside are married to it. You and Pete, Wendy and I…’
Janine shrugged. ‘We had a fair run at it – sixteen years.’
‘And now?’
‘The words skin and teeth come to mind. I couldn’t give it up though. Couldn’t pay the mortgage for a start, but I love it. I’m good at it.’ Her mind roamed back over the case. ‘What if Dean Hendrix was the lover boy?’
‘Twenty-two? Bit young for Mrs Tulley?’
‘Doesn’t matter – does it?’
She was suddenly aware of Richard’s eyes on her, a sense of intimacy that she hadn’t been aware of before. She returned his gaze. He had nice eyes, bright, knowing.
Lesley watched as the flames took hold, the smoke blew towards her and made her eyes water. Oh, Matthew. Such a romantic. He had bombarded her with flowers and gifts in the two weeks after their very first meeting. She’d noticed him in the cafe bar, sitting alone, drinking coffee. She with two friends getting ready for a night on the town. He’d looked her way several times and not even bothered to glance away when she looked back.