Deadheads

Mick Feaver said, 'Yeah, we did see her. I mean, I think I saw her.'

He looked around at the others apologetically, offering them the path of non-involvement by his correction. But the bait of police favours and the natural human instinct to seek star-witness status combined to make his friends resent rather than be grateful for his attempt to exclude them. Rapidly progressing from a trickle to a torrent, the information came.

'Yeah, a green Polo. Nice little car.'

'About ten past nine. We were just going by when it parked.'

'Tall blonde bit. Middle-aged. Big teeth.'

'No, she was better than that. Quite tasty really.'

'You like 'em old, don't you? I've seen you looking at his mam!'

'My mam's not old. Not that old.'

'She was about thirty, this tart. She was smart. Not with it smart, but smart like the nobs are smart.'

'That's right. She looked a right stuck-up cow.'

'She had a little handbag. Nothing else.'

'We thought there was something funny when she got in the other car.'

'Not funny. We thought she was going for a bit of umpty.'

'Yeah, wham! bang! on the back seat. She didn't look like a crook.'

'What do you think a crook looks like, you silly bugger!'

Here the torrent was interrupted by an energetic scuffle.

Singh said, 'You mean she got into another car?'

'That's right,' said Jonty, as eager as any of the others to be a star-witness. 'She parked next to it and got out of hers and straight into his.'

'His? You saw the driver?'

'Not really. There was tinted windows. I hadn't even noticed him sitting at the wheel till she got in and he drove off right away.'

'Right away?'

'That's right. He must have started the engine soon as he saw her.'

'What kind of car was it?'

'Audi.'

'Volvo.'

'No, it wasn't a Volvo, they have their lights on all the time.'

'It was a BMW 528i.'

The speaker was Mick Feaver, and he spoke with a note of authority so authentic that no one challenged him with further alternatives.

'You didn't get the number, did you?' said Singh hopefully.

They shook their heads, except Mick Feaver who tentatively suggested an X registration with a 9 before it.

Now Singh really did feel triumphant. This was something to toss casually before Sergeant Wield. He racked his brains in search of any other information he might possibly squeeze out of these eager witnesses. It struck him that this gang were not likely to have been inconspicuous, yet Mrs Aldermann had denied seeing anyone suspicious. That could be very significant.

'Did she see you?'  he asked.

'Probably. She drove right by us,' said Jonty.

'Yeah. And you were playing the fool,' guffawed one of the others.

'What did you do?' asked Singh.

For answer, Marsh made an obscene gesture with his right forearm and clenched fist.

'Well, I thought she was off on the job,' he explained. 'Randy old cow!'

And that was how it had started, thought Singh with a sudden flash of insight. Perhaps the first intention had been to write something rude on the dust on the Polo, but its shining bright paintwork hadn't provided the looked- for slate. So the knife had come out and, once started, the enthusiasm had spread. But he didn't want to know about that.

'Thanks a lot, lads,' he said, glancing at his watch and working out that PC Wedderburn would now be in the Market Caff, probably starting on his second cup of tea and growing steadily more furious. 'I'll pass this on. It could be very helpful. See you around.'

'Yeah. Right. Sure. Great. See you.'

Dismissed, the youngsters walked out away towards the bridge leading to the shoppers' car park. They had emerged from the lift as criminal suspects. They were now moving on as police witnesses. Singh dimly apprehended that it was an evolutionary process he might become very familiar with in his police career.