Which is ruddy nowhere. The guy's a timeserving prick of the first order.'
'Why lie about it?'
There was a pause and Delaney could picture Skinner shrugging at the other end of the line. 'The guy was desperate. That much seems clear. Whether it was because he knew there was a hit out on him, or about the trial coming up, who knows? His mate reckons that he had something on Chief Superintendent Walker, perhaps. He was looking to deal. Maybe talking about your wife was the best way to get you in to see him.'
'Maybe . . .' But Delaney wasn't convinced. Kevin Norrell had the brainpower of a fermented melon, but even he wouldn't be stupid enough to jerk Delaney's chain over his dead wife. Delaney glanced down at the stairs at the end of the corridor as the sound of high heels clicking rhythmically on the wooden steps grew louder. 'Keep on it, Jimmy.'
Delaney snapped his phone shut and looked across as Kate came up the stairs and headed towards the briefing room, unwrapping her scarf from her neck and taking off her gloves. If she was a little taken aback to see Delaney waiting outside the door, she didn't betray it in her body language. Delaney watched her confident stride, the determined set to her jaw, but in her eyes he saw something that disturbed him. Something that went against her usual, poised exterior. Something that reached out to him in a primal sense. Something very much like fear.
'Kate.'
'Not now, Jack.' She sailed past him.
Delaney hurried after her and took her arm. He was shocked to see the way she flinched away. 'I'm sorry.'
She looked at him, anger flaring behind the fear that was still liquid in her deep, brown eyes. 'Sorry for what exactly?'
Delaney hesitated. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'
Kate nodded, as if his answer had confirmed her thoughts, lessened him once again in her eyes, and he felt the shame of it like a creeping feeling on his skin. 'I need to get to the meeting,' she said.
She opened the door and walked into the briefing room before Delaney had a chance to say anything more.
Jimmy Skinner was heading down the iron staircase to be taken back through to the reception area when Derek Watters, the guard who had been posted outside Neil Riley's cell, fell into step behind him. He spoke quietly.
'You want to know what was going down with Kevin Norrell?'
Skinner turned back to look at him but the guard gestured him on.
'Just keep walking. I'll talk to you about it, but not here and not for gratis.'
'What are you after?'
'A drink. A serious drink. I reckon Delaney's good for it.'
'When and where?'
They reached the bottom of the stairs.
'Six o'clock. The Pillars of Hercules. Soho.'
Skinner nodded, imperceptibly, as another guard approached.
'All right, Derek. I'll take him from here.'
Derek Watters slapped Skinner on the arm as the other guard led him away and back towards the entrance.
At four o'clock in the afternoon, it doesn't matter what time of year, Soho is a busy place. But the White Horse pub, just down the road from Walker's Court, was relatively quiet today; as quiet as it was most days during the week, after lunch and before the workers came off shift. Later on it would be bustling
