Deadheads

'Stop there,' said Dalziel. 'All right, where was the car?'

'Whose car?' asked Pascoe blankly.

'Burke's car! I take it them houses just have single garages and driveways? Right, then. If Mrs Burke could back her car out at two-thirty, there wasn't any other car in the drive was there? And if she could drive back into the garage at three-thirty, there still wasn't, was there? So where was it?'

'Somewhere else?' offered Pascoe brightly.

'Right! And why?'

'Well, he was just popping in to collect something he'd forgotten, and didn't think it was worth taking the car up the drive.'

'Something he'd forgotten up a ladder?' asked Dalziel.

'Or he knew his wife might be going out later, so he parked on the road in order not to block her.'

'He was a well-known considerate fellow, was he?'

'Not from the sound of him,' admitted Pascoe. 'What do you suggest we do, sir? I mean, do you think it's important?'

'I can't do your thinking for you, lad,' said Dalziel heavily. 'You talked to Dandy Dick yet?'

'Tomorrow,' said Pascoe patiently. 'I did tell you.'

'Oh aye. You lose track in this bloody place. It's like a bloody ant-hill down here. I like streets where I know half the buggers I meet and I can understand most of what the rest of 'em say. I'll be glad to get back even if it does mean putting up with you lot again. Keep in touch!'

'I will,' said Pascoe. 'Enjoy your conference.'

The phone went down with a crash.

'You know, he sounded quite homesick,' said Pascoe to Wield.

‘It's nice to know we're missed,' said Wield. 'What do we do now?'

Pascoe glanced at his watch.

'There's only a couple of dozen things we could do,' he said. 'None of which should take more than a few hours by the time they got spread out. But on the other hand, I'm feeling a bit homesick too. I think I'll just go home.'

Ellie seemed slightly distracted that evening, but he put it down to the spiritual shock of coming to grips with the stack of exam scripts which still littered the lounge, though it was harder to explain in the same terms her perceptible start when he observed casually, 'I'm going to be getting a look at your mate, Daphne, at last.'

'Why? What do you mean?'

'Just that I'll have to call round and have a word with them. We've had a tip that Rosemont is going to be done, that's all. Probably nothing in it.'

‘It's not just another excuse to get into the house and have a poke around, is it?' she asked earnestly.

He regarded her with puzzled amusement.

'You think like fat Andy, do you know that?' he said. 'No, it isn't. It's a genuine tip, come to us courtesy of young Sherlock Singh. How's the marking going?'

'Rosie got hold of a couple of the scripts, and chewed them,' said Ellie gloomily. 'God knows what the external examiner will think.'

'He'll put it down to rage,' said Pascoe.

'He could be right. How was your day? Anything new on the Elgood front?' she said casually.

'Not much. I'm seeing him tomorrow.'

'Are you? Why?' she asked sharply.

'Just a couple of points to clear up. Is there some beer in the fridge? I just fancy one. What about you?'

'No, thanks,' she said. 'Peter, you will remember that Daphne's my friend.'

'When I visit Rosemont, you mean?' he said evasively. 'I'll be awfully polite, I promise.'

He went out of the lounge to the kitchen, leaving Ellie staring sightlessly at the pot of ferns in the fire grate.

'Oh shit,' she said.

8

 

INNOCENCE

(Bush. Vigorous, upright, flowers creamy white with a few pink flecks - sweetly perfumed.)

Pascoe was five minutes early for his appointment with Elgood. As he approached the office door, it opened and a man in a creased grey suit was ushered out by Miss Dominic who regarded Pascoe coldly, though whether on account of his earliness or because he'd used the lift he could not tell. The departing man headed virtuously for the stairs.

Creep, thought Pascoe and went in.

'You're early,' said Dick Elgood. 'I hope this means you're in a hurry. I know I am. I'm up to my eyes.'

'I'll try not to keep you long,' said Pascoe. 'Just a couple of questions.'