Echo

The sergeant stood on the threshold for a moment, then took out his cigarettes and offered one to Deacon. 'Interesting atmosphere,' he said mildly.

Deacon agreed. He accepted a cigarette with some relief. 'DS Harrison has a few more questions for Barry,' he announced to the room in general. 'So maybe Terry and I should make ourselves scarce for ten minutes.'

Harrison closed the door of the flat. 'I'd rather you stayed, Mr. Deacon. I have some questions for you, too.'

'Not Terry, though.' He took five pounds from his pocket and jerked his head at the boy. 'There's a pub on the corner. We'll join you there when we've finished.'

Terry shook his head. 'No way. What'll I do if you never turn up?'

'Why wouldn't we?'

Terry flicked a suspicious glance at the sergeant. 'He ain't come round to pass the time of day, Mike. My guess is he's going to arrest Barry again over that Powell woman. Am I right, Mr. Harrison?'

The sergeant shrugged noncommittally. 'I want some answers to a few more questions, that's all. As far as I'm concerned, you're not involved, so you can go or you can stay. I'm easy either way.'

'But I'm not,' said Deacon firmly, reaching the spare key off a shelf by the door. 'Come on, lad, hop it. If we don't join you in half an hour you can let yourself back in.'

'No,' said the boy stubbornly. 'I'm staying. Billy were a mate, same as you and Barry are, and you don't walk out on mates when they need you.'

'Let's get on with it,' said Harrison impatiently, lowering himself into a chair and leaning forward to stare at Barry. 'Mrs. Powell tells a different story from you, my friend. According to her, you've been stalking her for a couple of weeks, and you're terrifying her out of her wits. She's seen you on at least two occasions, described you down to what color shoes you wear, and denies absolutely that anyone was with her last night or that she was making love on her sitting-room carpet at two o'clock in the morning. She wants you locked up because, until you are, she's too frightened to stay in her house.' He switched his gaze to Deacon. 'She has also described in meticulous detail how your friend here forced his way in on Thursday night and refused to leave. She says he was drunk, violent, and abusive, and refused to explain at any point why he was there. So? What the hell's going on with you two and this woman?'

There was a short silence.

'She's very beautiful,' Deacon said slowly, 'and I was very drunk, but she's relying on the fact that I told her the next morning I couldn't remember anything.' He strolled across to the television and switched it off before leaning his back against the wall beside it. 'It was true at the time, but not after a decent breakfast and several cups of coffee. She can almost get away with saying I forced my way in, because I leaned on her door when she opened it and it would have been difficult for her to shut me out at that point. But I wasn't violent and I wasn't abusive, and there was nothing to stop her calling the police if she was afraid of me. We had a brief conversation before I passed out on her sofa, and the next morning she made me drink a cup of coffee before she let me go. I said sorry so many times that it started to get on her nerves, and when I asked her if I'd frightened her, she said she was long past being frightened of anything.' He smiled slightly. 'She can accuse me of lousy timing and lousy technique-' his eyes narrowed- 'but she can't accuse me of anything else. I hardly ever become aggressive under the influence of alcohol, Sergeant. Merely embarrassing.'

'That's true,' said Terry. 'He told me and Barry he wanted babies when he got drunk last night. He were weeping all over the bloody shop.'

Deacon looked at him with disfavor. 'I was not weeping.'

'Near enough,' said Terry with a wicked smile.

Harrison ignored this exchange and turned to Barry. 'You swore you hadn't been near Mrs. Powell's house before last night.'

Barry flushed guiltily. 'I hadn't.'

'I don't believe you.'

The little man shook with nerves. 'I hadn't,' he repeated.

'She described you in detail, told me where you were standing when she saw you. How could she do that if she didn't see you?'

'I don't know,' said Barry helplessly.

'Did she say when she saw him?' asked Deacon.

'She's not sure of the exact dates, but the first occasion was about ten days ago, and the second two or three days later.' He took a notebook from his pocket and flipped over the pages. 'She described him as a short man with glasses, wearing a blue anorak, grey slacks, and light-colored shoes which were probably suede. She said he was standing outside her house when she approached it in her car, but walked away when she turned into her drive. Do you still deny that it was you, Barry?'

'Yes.' He looked in desperation towards Deacon. 'It can't have been me, Mike. I never went there before '

Deacon frowned. 'It sounds like you,' he pointed out wondering if he had been wrong and Harrison right 'It's one hell of an accurate description.'

'Jesus, it's a good thing I didn't go for that drink ' said Terry scornfully. 'You two'd be lost without me.' He turned aggressively on Barry. 'What was it I said to you in the kitchen? Sad people wear anoraks, but really sad people wear suede shoes. And what did you say to m? It's a pity you didn't meet me on Thursday, because that's when you bought the shoes. I told you that bitch was clever. She's got one of those coppers to give her a description of you and fed it back to Mr. Harrison here. If you paid for those shoes with a credit card, mate, you're in the clear, ain't you? There's no way you could've been wearing them ten days ago.'

Barry's sad face brightened. 'I did,' he said. 'I've even got the receipt. It's in my room at home.'

'And how many other pairs of suede shoes do you own?' asked Harrison, unimpressed by Terry's reasoning.