‘So, what do you think happened? What’s your theory on Matthews and McBride?’
I’d thought about that a fair amount that day but had yet to come up with anything concrete. ‘I don’t know, Tina. If I had to indulge in a bit of conjecture I’d say that Jean Tanner was Neil Vamen’s mistress and that she was also seeing Matthews on the side. Vamen found out about what was going on and had Matthews killed.’
‘And what about McBride?’
‘This is where it starts not to make much sense. From what the neighbours were saying, McBride had visited Jean on a number of occasions, so it makes me think that maybe he was seeing her as well.’
‘So she was seeing three of them? She gets around a bit.’
I shrugged. ‘Well, that’s what it looks like.’
‘And you think Vamen found out about McBride as well?’
I spread my arms wide in a gesture of defeat. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Because that all seems a bit coincidental, doesn’t it? Him killing off two of his love rivals in the space of a week. All over one woman who’s hardly a picture painting, is she?’
‘You know what they say,’ I said lamely. ‘Love’s blind.’
‘Not that blind.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever come across a murder case as complicated as this one. One where nothing seems to really lead anywhere. Do you know what I mean? There’s no logic in any of it. I mean, what about Fowler? If he’s got nothing to do with it, then where is he?’ There followed a long silence. We were a long way from any answers. ‘You know,’ I said eventually, ‘it’s been such a long day, I can’t even be bothered to think about it any more.’
‘Do you want to go for a drink? Finish up here and grab a beer somewhere?’
I pondered her suggestion for all of one second. The paperwork could wait. ‘Why not? I could do with one.’
We wandered round the corner to the Roving Wolf and I ordered the first round: a pint of Pride for me, a pint of Fosters for her. That was another thing I liked about Boyd, she didn’t have any airs and graces. She might have been a college girl like Berrin but she was still one of the lads. The interior of the pub was quiet at this hour with most of the hardened drinkers and passing trade sat at tables outside on the street, so we found ourselves a table away from the bright rays of evening sunshine streaming through the windows and chatted a while, enjoying the fact that the working day was over and there was nothing and no one to pressurize us. She bought the second round and I realized I was enjoying things just a little too much. She was good company, and single, too. I couldn’t help but think that maybe I ought to make an exception to the rule I’d placed on myself never to have an office fling. That had been after an affair I’d had with another WDC ten years earlier, when Rachel had been little more than a baby and I’d been getting the married man’s yearning for something new. It had all got very messy. The WDC had demanded I choose between Cathy and her, and I’d done the inevitable and chosen Cathy. The atmosphere between the WDC and me, and in CID as a whole, where everyone knew what had been going on, had been sour for more than a year afterwards until she’d finally asked for a transfer and got it, much to my relief. I might not have been married any more but I still thought it best to keep to the rule, remembering all too well the hassle of having to work with someone you’d pay good money to avoid.
So when Boyd asked if I fancied grabbing a curry somewhere, I was pretty torn. But with the grim memories of the previous night and
As they cleared away the remains of the food, I told her about Capper’s reaction to my mention of Heavenly Girls. ‘Do you think he’s been paying recreational visits down there? He definitely knew the place.’
She pulled a face. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. He’s the sort you can imagine visiting toms. He’s got that perverted look about him, don’t you think? Like the sort of bloke you’d find in a peep show. I bet he gets them to spank his arse.’
I laughed. ‘That’s your boss you’re talking about. I hate to think what you say about me.’
‘Oh, it’s worse. Definitely worse.’
‘I bet it is as well. But I can tell you quite categorically that no one’s ever spanked my arse. Even my mum was against corporal punishment.’
‘There’s always a first time,’ she said, with a coy smile. The woman was definitely flirting. I wasn’t sure whether to be worried or pleased. She took a packet of Silk Cut out of her handbag. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘Be my guest.’
I watched as she lit one and took a long, relaxed drag that gave me a fleeting reminder, even years later, of how good a cigarette tastes after a decent meal. ‘What you’ve got to remember’, she said, blowing the smoke out above my head, ‘is that if Capper was, or is, a customer down there, then it’s possible that he knows Fowler.’
‘I was thinking about that earlier, but I don’t really go for it. He’s too keen for us to find him. He keeps going on about it.’
‘Ah,’ she said, taking another drag (it’s amazing how elegant a woman smoking can look), ‘but there’s always the possibility that he might have been put in a compromising situation. If someone down there found out he was a copper, then they might have been able to use it against him, and perhaps it’s that someone who wants to find Fowler.’
‘And who do you think that someone might be?’
She shrugged. ‘God knows.’
I shook my head. This was one complication too far. ‘No, I think it’s more likely he’s just a pervert.’
She blew more smoke over my head. ‘So do I, but nothing’s set in stone, is it? Maybe it’d be worth-while watching what you say around him.’
I nodded, thinking that it was funny how when you’re talking to another copper, even one who’s female and attractive, you always end up back on the subject of work. For once, I just wanted to forget about it. I wanted to talk more about her. What she was interested in. What made her tick. What she looked for in a man. And whether she really was flirting.
But the opportunity had passed, and a couple of minutes later she stubbed her cigarette out and said that she ought to be getting back. We split the bill fifty-fifty and headed outside. Night was falling and the lowlifes who inhabit King’s Cross after dark were coming out of the cracks in the pavement and looking round for customers and victims. I suggested we share a cab back but she told me she was perfectly capable of getting herself back on the Tube. ‘I am a police officer, you know, John,’ she said dismissively.
‘Don’t say that too loudly round here.’
‘And don’t keep going on.’ Her face broke into a smile. ‘Look, I had a good time tonight. We’ll have to do it again sometime.’
I nodded. ‘Definitely.’
We had an awkward moment when we thought about shaking hands, but didn’t quite go through with it, and then she said goodbye and headed off towards the Underground, while I looked around for a cab that would take me back to Tufnell Park.
Part of me thought that maybe I should have tried to kiss her, or at least shown that I was interested, but the other part kept telling me that by taking a little pain now I was avoiding a lot more down the line.
Iversson
‘So how did you meet your ex-missus, then?’ asked Elaine.
It was Sunday morning and we were sitting up in her bed, naked and drinking coffee. The clock on the bedside table said half eleven and her right hand was on my thigh, which made me think she probably wasn’t going to kick me out just yet.
‘I was a double-glazing salesman.’
Elaine laughed. ‘You? Now that I would have liked to see.’
‘It was just after I’d left the army. I was pretty shit at it, to be honest with you. I mean, they taught you all these ways to get the customer to sign on the dotted line, get him fired up and interested and all that, but in the end, as far as I could see, all I was doing was shifting windows. You know, people either wanted them or they
