‘You must have.’
But she was shaking her head slowly, never taking her eyes off him. ‘You saw it in my file, didn’t you?’
‘I like you, Annie…’
‘So you had a trawl through my personnel file. Find out anything interesting, Inspector?’
‘Only that you never bothered to mention Duncan.’
Her voice was steely. ‘I didn’t want anyone seeing me as a single parent first, and a cop second.’
‘I can understand that.’
‘I can’t believe you checked up on me!’
‘It’s what I do.’ He paused. ‘What I used to do,’ he corrected himself.
‘It was still out of order, Malcolm.’
He was trying to shape an explanation, but Annie Inglis had risen to her feet.
‘Time for you to leave, I think.’
‘Annie, I just wanted to know a little more about you…’
‘Thanks again for the wine and the flowers and…’ She looked about her, avoiding eye contact, then turned towards the door. ‘I need to get started in the kitchen.’
He watched her go. He was standing by this time, still holding his coffee cup. He placed it on the table and put his jacket back on. She had closed the kitchen door. He could hear her moving stuff around. His fingers brushed the door handle, without enough force to open it. He stayed there a further minute, willing her to come out. But she had switched the radio on. Classic FM: same station he sometimes listened to.
Out of order, Malcolm…
He could open the door and apologise. But instead, he padded down the hall and let himself out. On the pavement outside, he craned his neck. There was no one watching from the bay window, or from the next window along. The car next to Fox’s was being washed by its owner.
‘Nice day, for a change,’ the man said. Fox drove away without responding. He was halfway home when his phone rang. He answered it, hoping to hear Annie’s voice. But it was Tony Kaye.
‘What do you want?’ Fox asked.
‘You were the one who told me to ring,’ Kaye complained. ‘And it went okay, thanks for asking.’
Fox remembered then: Torphichen. ‘Sorry, Tony. I was lost for a minute there.’
‘Bad Billy wants me in the frame for Faulkner’s demise – he wants it a lot, but he knows it’s not going to happen, and that’s driving him nuts.’
‘Good,’ Fox said.
‘Other scenario he’s got is you thumping Faulkner and me acting the messenger. He said maybe it wasn’t my idea, or even yours – maybe Jude got you to do it.’ Kaye paused. ‘She didn’t, did she?’
‘Look, Tony, I’ve just had lunch round at Annie Inglis’s flat.’
‘Nice one.’
‘It ended badly. She worked out that I’d taken a look at her personnel file.’
‘Christ, when did that happen?’
‘I was down at HR for background on Jamie Breck…’
‘And thought you’d take a peek at Annie while you were at it? Seems fair enough to me.’
‘She didn’t see it that way.’
‘Sounds like an overreaction.’
Fox thought so too, but he still had a favour to ask. ‘I need you to have a word with her.’
‘What?’
‘Let her know I’m not some sort of stalker.’
‘Well, I’ve only got your word for that…’
‘It’ll give you something to do tomorrow while Naysmith and the new boy are getting cosy.’
Kaye let out a hiss of air. ‘I’d forgotten we were getting lumbered with Gilchrist.’
‘While the Techie Twins are chatting, you can be at the Chop Shop.’
‘Interceding on your behalf? I’d’ve thought Annie Inglis was the least of your worries.’
‘Can’t afford any more enemies right now, Tony.’
‘Good point. Consider it done. But if she starts falling for my charms in place of yours…’
‘I’ll be sure to let your wife of twelve years know.’
‘You miserable sod.’ Kaye gave a laugh. ‘I bet you would, too.’
‘Are you all done with Torphichen?’
‘I dare say Giles will drag me in again. Plus, Grampian will want a word, apparently.’
‘The Complaints?’
‘Giles was quick to tell them about me turning up at your sister’s. No chance of them investigating your misdemeanours without dragging me into it too.’
‘Things just get better and better, don’t they?’
‘Look on the bright side – the restaurant last night forgot to charge me for our second bottle of wine.’
Fox managed the beginnings of a smile, then reminded Kaye to talk to Annie Inglis.
‘Relax,’ Kaye told him. ‘So what are you doing the rest of the day? Want to meet up at Minter’s?’
‘I’ve got stuff to do.’
‘Such as?’
‘Alphabetising my bookshelves.’ Fox ended the call and drove home in silence.
The rest of the day, he couldn’t really concentrate on anything. The piles of books sat untouched. There were sections of the various papers still unbrowsed. The TV proved little comfort and he had no view from his window other than the house identical to his across the street. Then, at eight o’clock, someone rang his doorbell. He ticked off possible visitors – Jamie, Tony Kaye, Annie Inglis…
It was Jude. The taxi that had just dropped her was leaving. Her arm was still in a sling, so she’d only managed to drape her three-quarter-length coat around her shoulders.
‘Good to see you,’ he said, pecking her cheek and ushering her inside.
‘Are you moving out?’ she asked when she saw the state of the living room.
Fox shook his head. ‘Been a while since you were last here,’ he commented.
‘We never seemed to get invited.’ She had shrugged off her coat. Fox walked into the kitchen and started filling the kettle.
‘DCI Giles phoned me,’ she explained from the doorway. ‘He says the man who came to my door on Monday night was a friend of yours.’
‘He works with me.’
‘Giles thinks you sent him.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Sent him to do your dirty work,’ she continued. ‘His name’s Kaye… I think you’ve mentioned him to me before. How did he know where I live, Malcolm?’
Fox turned towards her. ‘Jude… this man Giles is trying every trick he knows in an effort to fuck things up for me.’
‘You told Kaye where I live?’
‘At some point I must have. But I didn’t know he was going to come to your house.’
‘He was looking for Vince. Only reason he’d be doing that is if you told him what happened… told him about my arm.’
‘So?’
She was blinking back tears. ‘DCI Giles thinks maybe you had Vince killed.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Then why send your friend round?’
‘I didn’t send him. He was looking for Vince, remember? But Vince was already dead, Jude – and that means Tony Kaye didn’t know.’ Pain was thrumming in Fox’s temples. He opened a drawer and took out a packet of paracetamol tablets, popping two of them from the blister pack and washing them down with water from the tap. Jude waited until she had his full attention again before she spoke.
‘Giles says Vince could have been killed Monday night. He says the tests always have a margin of error.’
‘He’s lying. Pathology has Vince dying on the Saturday or the Sunday.’
A single tear was running down Jude’s left cheek. ‘I just want this to be over,’ she said, her voice cracking. Fox stepped forward and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.
‘I know,’ he said, as she buried her face in his chest.
They spent the next hour and a half talking quietly in the living room. She drank the tea he prepared for her, but didn’t feel like eating. She promised him she had eaten something at lunchtime. She promised him she would have breakfast. He brought out a packet of Weetabix from the kitchen and said she’d be taking it home with her. When he offered milk, she gave a little laugh and told him to stop making such a fuss. But he got the feeling she liked it really.
He called a taxi for her and pressed a ten-pound note into her hand. Then he pecked her on the cheek again and closed the door of the cab for her, waving as she was driven away. She’d asked him if he’d seen their father and he had lied – because he hadn’t wanted her to feel left out. Next time he was visiting Mitch, he would take her along. She belonged there just as much as he did. She was family.