'Never in Nottingham, with Viktor?'
'No. Never. Not till today.'
Lynn patted her hand. 'Thank you, Andreea. Thank you very much.'
'What does it mean? That this has happened?'
'I'm not sure. I expect he was working undercover. You know? Pretending to be someone else. Sometimes it's the only way.'
'Then there is nothing wrong?'
'No. No, I don't think so.'
Back out on the street, Lynn called Jackie Ferris on her mobile. 'Look, Jackie, I'm sorry I had to put you off earlier, but you couldn't manage a quick drink early evening, could you? Say around six. Six-thirty. Something I want to ask. You can? Fantastic. Great! Just tell me where.'
Nineteen
It was Resnick who'd known Jackie Ferris first, when she was a young sergeant in the Yard's Arts and Antiques Squad, Resnick on the track of a burglar with a nicely developed taste for the works of the lesser British Impressionists. They had met again in the search for a serial seducer who specialised in picking up lonely women, bedding them, and then stripping them bare of everything they possessed; somehow-and Lynn couldn't remember the exact circumstances-Resnick's arcane and near-encyclopedic knowledge of jazzmen of the forties and fifties had helped find the suspect. Difficult to believe, but true.
Lynn had first met her briefly in the line of duty, and then, after she and Resnick had started living together, Jackie had come up to Nottingham on a couple of occasions and stayed, once for a conference on community policing, and once for a meeting of the Lesbian and Gay Police Association, of which Jackie was a member.
Although she would have been loath to admit it, it had unsettled Lynn when she'd found out Jackie was gay, picturing someone who would be either outlandishly butch or femme the minute she was off duty. Butch, most likely, Lynn thought-she couldn't picture Jackie in pink frocks and lots of girlie makeup. But when she realised neither to be the case-and found-her other fear-that Jackie was not in the least bit predatory, she'd been able to relax and enjoy her company.
At Jackie's suggestion, they met in the Assembly House, a large old-fashioned boozer in the north end of Kentish Town, which, like so many, but with less-disastrous results, had modishly reinvented itself by virtue of knocking down a few internal walls and sanding the floors, then adding a decent kitchen where the chef laboured in full view of the clientele.
At shortly after six, the place was still uncrowded and they sat at a corner table with their backs to the tall, broad windows and the slow-moving rush-hour traffic.
'Sorry about earlier,' Lynn said, as soon as they were settled. 'Overtaken by events.'
Jackie waved a hand dismissively. 'It happens.'
'Too often.'
'Tell me about it.' Jackie took a good pull from her glass. 'So,' she said. 'How's Charlie?'
'Oh, you know… Charlie's Charlie.'
'Looking forward to retirement?'
'He keeps watching those documentaries about elephants, the ones who, when they know their days are numbered, lumber off into the jungle to die.'
Jackie laughed. 'Get out of it, he'll be fine.'
'You think? I'm not so sure. I can't see him taking one of those security jobs, like so many do-but I can't see him being happy just sitting around, either. Mind you, with our staffing levels the way they are, they'll be begging him to stay on.'
'No, get out while the going's good. Reinvent yourself. That's what I'm going to do when my turn comes.'
'Oh, yes? What as?'
'A trapeze artist. You know, high wire. Get a job with one of those little touring circuses. Hampstead Heath, Clapham Common, that sort of thing.'
'You're kidding!'
'No, I'm not. In fact, I've already started taking lessons.'
'Come on!'
'Yes, from this Hungarian woman who used be in a circus in Russia. She and her partner, they were the Flying Romanovs. Until he fell and broke his back.'
'Terrific.'
'She's sixty if she's a day, but still got an amazing body.'
'You sure this is about learning the trapeze?'
'Very funny.'
'Nothing wrong with the older, more experienced lover.'
'You should know.'
'Bitch!'
Jackie laughed again. 'So,' she said, lifting her glass, 'what was this business you wanted to see me about?'
Without going into too much detail, Lynn explained as best she could.
'You don't think there's any doubt the girl-Andreea? — could be mistaken?' Jackie asked.
'She seemed pretty certain.'
'And the reason you gave her for his being there, the Customs and Excise guy, that he was simply working undercover-you don't think that's right?'
'If the rest of what she says is true, it's difficult to swallow.'
'I don't know. If he is undercover and in the place as some kind of customer, he's got to play along. He can hardly-what did they used to say in the papers in the old days? — make his excuses and leave.'
'I suppose not. But what Andreea said about the girl-'
'Hurting her?'
'Yes.'
Jackie sighed. 'Maybe he let himself get carried away-it could happen. Especially if you had leanings that way in the first place. Or maybe she had her own reasons for exaggerating, not telling strictly the truth.'
'It's possible.'
'But not what you want to believe?'
With a wry smile, Lynn shook her head. 'I don't know.'
Jackie finished her drink and held up the empty glass. 'Your turn.'
Lynn made her way to the bar. The pub was busier now, a mixture of people dropping in on their way home from work, old fogeys for whom the place was still a home from home, albeit with new decor, and women who looked as if they'd spent the bulk of the day getting their legs waxed and their highlights retouched, to say nothing of taking on an extra few degrees of tan. Music-there must be, she thought, some kind of ska revival-meshed with the increasingly dizzy conversation.
The barman who served her was Mediterranean-looking, with dark hair only a touch too long and eyes which brought butterscotch disconcertingly to mind: white T-shirt and blue jeans, neither of which, as far as she could see, left a great deal to the imagination. Fit, wasn't that the modern term for it? Tasty, some would say.
'Lust at first sight?' Jackie Ferris said, with a nod towards the bar, when Lynn returned.
'A girl can dream, can't she?'
'Long as you don't talk in your sleep.'
Lynn laughed and spilt beer from her glass as she set it down. She was enjoying Jackie's company. Enjoying, for a change, being out of the confines of Nottingham and in the big city. The Smoke, did anyone still call it that? Charlie, aside.
'So what are you going to do?' Jackie asked.
