think these two hadn’t been around for the final act. They couldn’t have been so cool if they’d watched two women die like that… could they?
‘Still some basic questions to be answered, like how did they know it was the Marinescus who’d robbed Joss’s gran? Now, I’m thinking that was most likely down to Victoria herself, who has wide contacts. This is still a small city, and there aren’t that many double acts on the street at any one time.’
The fact that Goldie knew this was down to Victoria… well, no surprise at all there. You could fill Yellow Pages with all Goldie’s contacts. How long had she known it was Victoria, though? At some point he’d have to go back, on his own, for a bit of a heart-to-heart, but not till Victoria was safely banged up.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Let’s all do this quietly. Let me know as soon as you have them.’
As the room emptied, he looked up – and there was Annie Howe. In all the excitement he hadn’t even noticed her come in. Annie was wearing her coat, no make-up, and she had her rimless glasses on. Must’ve left very early.
‘You sound sure about this, Francis.’
‘I think we can send the interpreters home,’ Bliss said. ‘Scary, isn’t it? Little girls. What’ve we come to?’
‘These girls actually came in here?’
‘Fingering some blokes they claimed were eyeing up the Marinescus. Very cool.’
‘You think that was Buckland’s idea?’
Bliss shrugged. Annie nodded across the room.
‘Your office?’
Annie said, ‘I’ve never known you not want to be in on a round-up.’
Bliss shrugged.
‘Not gonna be a siege, is it? Not even Victoria. She’ll scream and threaten, look around for a bottle. Accuse the cops of feeling her up, especially the women. I don’t need to see that again.’ He sat down, hands behind his head. ‘Anyway, it’s Karen’s collar. She’s been up half the night.’
‘Haven’t we all.’
‘I don’t know the details about that, yet.’
Annie sat down opposite Bliss. He stared at her, tingling with emotion and caffeine-rush, impressed at the way she could separate her private and professional lives.
‘Seemed promising at first,’ Annie said. ‘Now it’s slightly silly. But still odd. A call to the Rural Crime Line. Person seen acting suspiciously, couple of miles from Oldcastle. In a truck?’
‘Worth a punt.’
‘It stood up, too. Secure compound, with warehouses. CCTV cameras smashed, hole cut in a wire fence. And, of course, the offender still on the premises.’
‘You’ve got him, then?’
‘He’s downstairs. Stagg brought him in last night. By all accounts, Stagg was practically wetting himself with excitement, thinking he was on the verge of cracking Oldcastle. It was apparently two hours before somebody persuaded him to call me.’
‘This feller in the cells, this is someone we know, right?’
Annie sighed.
‘Laurence Robinson, musician. Of sorts. Also known for his association with your friend, the vicar of-’
‘Fuck’s sake, Annie, you’ve gorra be kidding…’
Bliss sat up, hands dropping away from the chair arms.
‘I don’t do kidding, as you know. Robinson denies it. Denies breaking in, but he had injuries requiring stitches. We’re still looking for the wire-cutters in the woods, and his truck’s been brought back – being gone over as we speak.’
‘Annie, this is… I mean, I know you don’t like Mrs Watkins or her God, but this-’
‘Yes, it seems faintly ridiculous, but the faintly ridiculous often turns out to make perverse sense. And he does have psychiatric history.’
‘That was twenty years ago, and-’
‘All right, what am I supposed to do, Francis? You tell me. He was caught on the premises.’
‘What’s he saying?’
‘When Stagg finally got him into an interview room, he was saying very little. Refusing a lawyer, not helping himself at all. According to Stagg, he sounded guilty. By the time I got here he’d been formally arrested and binned for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time Stagg’s overreacted. On the other hand…’
‘Who owns the premises?’
‘Guy called Colin Jones. A co-director of Hardkit. They have a warehouse there, and a gym. Run survival-type courses, rent out equipment. Jones is ex-SAS. He’s coming in later to make a statement, but he’s confirmed that the fence was intact and the cameras functioning at least until early yesterday evening.’
‘They don’t have a nightwatchman?’
‘Apparently not. And they’ve never had any trouble before.’
‘You want me to talk to Robinson?’
‘No, I do not.’
Annie was staring at him. Her coat had fallen open. Underneath she was wearing the stripy sweater she’d had on the night last December when he’d gone to her flat, and…
Annie stood up.
‘You have what seems like a result. Run with it.’
‘And keep on running?’ Bliss said.
Annie looked away.
Tap on the door. Terry Stagg leaned in.
‘Ma’am?’
Annie went out. Bliss stared at his desk. A result, yeh, but hardly the result anybody wanted, and not his result. All he’d done was put the squeeze on a semi-literate woman of seventy-plus. Karen had pulled his chestnuts out of the fire, and he’d get the credit, do the talking-head, the radio soundbite. We’ve now arrested several people in connection with the Marinescu murders and we expect there to be charges. Nothing else I can tell you at this moment, thank you…
… unless of course you want to give me something on Sollers Bull…
Bliss smashed his fist into the desk. It hurt; he was glad.
Annie came back to the door. Her angular face was unreadable. They were so not an item any more. This time she didn’t come in.
‘Actually, Francis, there is one thing you could do while you’re waiting. Talk to Robinson’s… partner. She’s in reception. And then get rid of her, would you?’
50
Either it would happen or it wouldn’t. As the morning wore on, Jane was beginning to hope there’d be a get- out.
There were three buses to Hereford today, and she’d missed one. Watched it coming as she was waiting down the street from the Ox. It gave her an hour before the next and then, like, another four hours before the one after that.
OK, this was the decider. If the bus came before there was any sign of Cornel, then fate had decreed she should be on it. That would be fate lifting it out of her hands.
She’d been down to the Ox earlier. ‘Mr Cornel?’ Whizz Williams, the lugubrious licensee, morosely scrubbing the bar down. ‘Dunno where he is, but he en’t paid his bill yet, and them’s his bags, so I reckon he’ll be back.’
Leather cases in front of the bar, airline stickers on them.
Jane had hung around for ten minutes, then walked back up to the square, wandering quietly around, being
