glove box then bundled Pullen into the back of the car and locked the doors.
Central police station lies beside the city's magistrates court. Winter found a space in the public car park, turned off the engine, then wound down his window an inch.
'How much of a wash did you have then, Dave?' He was eyeing Pullen in the rear-view mirror. 'Only some of our blokes in the station are really particular.'
'Fuck off.'
A gaggle of university students sauntered past, kicking at a stray can.
Suttle watched them, saying nothing, aware that he hadn't a clue what might happen next. In situations like these, as he was beginning to discover, Winter made up the rules as he went along.
Winter found the release catch on the driver's seat and pushed it back, making himself more comfortable. Pullen yelped as the bottom of the seat caught him on the ankles, then he twisted sideways in the back.
'That fucking hurt.'
'Yeah?' Winter reached up, adjusting the mirror until he found Pullen's ravaged face again. 'Here's the deal, Dave.' He nodded towards the nearby police station. 'Either we take you in there, do the paperwork, book you in, sort you out a lawyer, all that crap, or we have a little chat out here, just the three of us.'
'I done nothing.'
'Wrong, Dave. You done Trudy.'
'Who says?'
'Trude does. As you well know.'
'How's that, then?'
'Because Bazza would have told you. Not face to face, maybe, but good as. Do I have to spell this out, Dave? Or do we think Bazza's mates came round to your place to talk football?'
Pullen brooded for a moment.
'You got no proof,' he said at last.
'Wrong again, Dave. We've got a statement.'
'Who from?'
'Young Trudy. Am I right, James?'
Suttle nodded. He was beginning to get the drift.
'Dead right, mate.' Suttle glanced over his shoulder at Pullen. 'No more freebies from Trude, Dave. You've put her off billiards for life.'
'What she say, then?'
'She said she was having a little chat with some Scouse lads down Gunwharf. She said you got the hump and dragged her off. She said you smacked her around a bit in the car, then took a billiard cue to her once there was no way she could do anything about it. She also said you were pissed out of your head, but I think we're starting to take that for granted.'
'OK, Dave?' It was Winter again. 'Are we getting there now?'
Pullen said nothing. He'd shifted again, trying to get comfortable, and his head was back against the seat. At length, he closed his eyes and mumbled something incomprehensible. Winter waited until the yellow eyes opened again, then gave him a smile.
'Like I said, Dave. We can either put you through a couple of interviews and bang you up for the weekend pending a kidnap charge, or …' He fingered the steering wheel.
'Or what? What's the deal?'
'You tell us one or two things about Bazza.'
'Like what?'
'Like why he's so touchy about young Trude.'
'No way.'
'Really?' Winter kept eye contact in the mirror for a moment or two.
Then he sighed. 'Kidnap's a serious offence, Dave. We can put you in front of the magistrates on Monday and I'll give you odds they'll refuse bail. You know the remand wing at Winchester? Bazza's mates practically run the place. I'd give it a couple of days, max.'
'Couple of days how?'
'Use your imagination, Dave. You know those big urns they use for boiling water in the canteen? They put sugar in, sticks better when they want to make a point. But then I expect you'd know that already, the time you've done.'
Pullen shook his head, not wanting to listen. A dustbin lorry growled past, two pink balloons attached to the back. Finally Pullen stirred.
He appeared to have come to some kind of conclusion.
'What's in it for me, then?'
'We take you up to the QA for a proper check, then we find you a nice hotel for a couple of nights. Stick a bottle of Scotch in the fridge.'
'And after that?'
'You go back home. Get the Hoover out. If the Scousers come round at all, they'll do it in the next twenty-four hours.'
'You're serious about staking the place out?'
'Fraid so, Dave. Part of our Safer City Initiative. So… tell me about Bazza. Pretend we know nothing.'
'Bazza and Trude?'
'That's right.'
Pullen nodded, still not quite convinced, then a resigned shake of the head told Winter he was home and dry. Thanks to Cathy Lamb, there was a room already booked in the Travel Inn on the se afront All Pullen had to do now was earn it.
'Trude's Bazza's daughter,' he mumbled.
'How do you know?'
'Bazza told me. Years ago.'
'So why doesn't Trude know?'
'He's never got round to telling her. Thinks it might get complicated.
He loves her and everything, looks out for her, but he doesn't want any legal hassle. Having a kid of his own, like.'
'You mean Esme?'
'Yeah.'
'And the missus? Marie? Does she know about Trudy?'
'Haven't a clue.'
'And Trude?' It was Suttle this time. 'Where's she in all this?'
'Trude's off the planet. She's got a list of dads as long as your arm.
Mother like Mist, you takes your pick. That's why I felt sorry for her.'
'Trude? You felt sorry for her? Fuck, I'd hate to be someone you didn't like.'
'You don't understand, son.'
'You're fucking right, I don't understand. You're an arse hole Pullen.
Maybe it's time you picked on someone your own size. How about me for starters?' Suttle lunged at him, ignoring Winter's restraining hand.
Pullen had retreated to the far corner of the back seat.
'See, Dave?' Winter was laughing. 'See the effect you have on people?
My mate here, Jimmy, thinks you cocked it up with Trude. And I'll tell you something else: Bazza does too. Only thing that puzzles me is why Baz ever let you near his precious daughter in the first place. Is he blind or something? Doesn't he know you're a scumbag?'
'We were good mates, me and Baz.'
'Yeah, I remember. Same team, wasn't it? Only that was when you could still put one foot in front of the other.'
'I was fucking useful.'
'I know you were, Dave. I even watched you a couple of Sundays when I'd got nothing better to do. You were
