me of doing a thing like that? This is what they call persecution, this is. Just because I’ve got a record you think you can pin everything on me.”
“Don’t be a silly bugger, Les. I’m not trying to pin anything on you yet. For a start, I couldn’t picture you in a suit, and even if you’d managed to nick one from somewhere, I think Brenda might still have recognized you, don’t you?”
“You don’t have to take the piss, you know,”
“Let’s make it simple, then. Do you know anything about what happened?”
“No.”
“Right. Another one: what were you doing?”
“What’s that got to do with anything? I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything. I mean, if you don’t suspect me, why does it matter where 1 was?”
“Got a job, Les?”
“Me? Nah.”
“I don’t suppose you’d want me to know if you did have, would you? I might tell the social and they’d cut off your benefits, wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t have a job, Mr Banks. You know what it’s like these days, all that unemployment and all.”
“Join the rest of us in the nineties, Les. Maggie’s gone. The three million unemployed are a thing of the past.”
“Still…”
“Okay. So you don’t have a job. What were you doing?”
“Just helping a mate move some junk, that’s all.”
“That’s better. His name?”
“John.”
“And where does he live, this John?”
“He’s got a shop, second-hand stuff, down Rampart Street, over by The Oak …”
“I know it. So you spent the afternoon with this bloke John, helping him in his shop?”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose he’d confirm that?”
“Come again?”
“If I asked him, he’d tell me you were with him.”
“Course he would.”
“Where’d you get the nice new television and stereo, Les?”
“What do you mean? They’re Brenda’s. She had them before she met me. Ask her.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll back you up. The thing is, they don’t look that old. And Fletcher’s electronics warehouse got broken into last Friday night. Someone took off with a van full of stereos and televisions. Did you know that?”
“Can’t say as I did. Anyway, what’s all this in aid of? I thought you were after the kid?”
“I cast a wide net, Les. A wide net. Why did Brenda wait so long before calling us?”
“How should I know? Because she’s a stupid cow, I suppose.”
“Sure it was nothing to do with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“She said you had a row. Maybe you didn’t want the police coming to the house and seeing that television, or the new music centre.”
“Look, I told you?”
“I know what you told me, Les. Why don’t you answer the question? Was it you persuaded Brenda to wait
so long before calling us?”
Poole looked away and said nothing.
“Do you know Gemma could be dead?”
Poole shrugged.
“For Christ’s sake, don’t you care?”
“I told you, she’s not my kid. Bloody nuisance, if you ask me.”
“You ever hit her, Les?”
“Me? Course I didn’t. That’s not my style.”
“Ever see Brenda do it?”
Poole shook his head. Banks stood up, glanced at the beer in his glass and decided to leave it.
“I’m off now, Les,” he said, “but I’ll be around. You’ll be seeing so much of the police in the next few days you’ll
