gesturing towards the hall with her thumb. ‘Mr Tact and Diplomacy, eh? Yes, it was me that called it off.’
‘How did Robbie take it?’
Bindie reached for another cigarette. ‘He was upset at first. Hurt pride, mostly. That and worry that he wasn’t going to get invited to the coolest gigs any more. Then when he realized I meant it when I said I wanted us to stay friends, he brightened up. The last few weeks, we’ve been sweet. Talked on the phone most days, file-swapped some sounds, had dinner when the lads were down in London the other week for the match with the Arsenal.’
‘So you’d say it was amicable between you?’
Bindie frowned. ‘Wait a minute, you don’t think this is anything to do with me?’ She glared at Carol, fierce and forceful, tears suddenly sparkling on her lashes.
‘I’m trying to get a picture of Robbie’s life, that’s all,’ Carol said gently.
‘Yeah, well, check his phone records. Check mine. You’ll see how often we spoke, and how long for.’
‘When was the last time you spoke?’
‘I called him on Saturday morning,’ she said, her voice a little shaky now. ‘We always spoke before a game. He said he couldn’t talk, he thought he was coming down with flu and he was waiting for the team doctor.’ She blinked furiously. ‘He was already poisoned by then, right?’
Carol nodded. ‘We think so. Before Saturday morning, when did you last talk?’
Bindie thought for a moment. ‘Thursday. Early evening. He was going out with Phil.’
‘No. Like I said, he didn’t have time for a chat. I just wished him luck and told him to call me when he was feeling better.’ Comprehension sprang into her eyes. ‘You think this old school friend was the one who poisoned him?’
‘We’re keeping an open mind. But he mentioned to Phil that he’d run into someone he was at school with. They might be able to give us a clearer picture of Robbie’s evening. That’s all. Tell me, Bindie, did Robbie ever do drugs?’
‘Are you kidding? He wouldn’t even sit in the same room with anybody smoking a spliff. He loved a drink, but he would never touch drugs. He always said you knew exactly what effect alcohol was going to have on you. But when it came to drugs, you had no way of knowing what they were going to do to you. If you’re thinking someone got this drug into his system by pretending it was coke or whatever, you’re barking up the wrong tree.’
Maybe it was a whitewash, maybe it was the truth. Either way, the post mortem would show whether Robbie’s posse were painting a plaster saint whiter than white. ‘And there was nothing in your last conversation to suggest that had changed?’
‘No way. Like I said, we just exchanged a few sentences.’
‘At least you parted on good terms,’ Carol said.
‘There’s that…’ She tried a brave little laugh. ‘You know, if I’d have been going to kill Robbie, I’d have done it to his face, not behind his back. He’d have been in no doubt what was happening to him and why. Only…’ Her face crumpled and she coughed on the smoke. ‘I never wanted to kill him. The blondes, maybe. But Robbie? No way.’
‘So who might have wanted to kill him? Who hated him enough to do this to him?’
Bindie ran a hand through her curls. ‘I have no fucking idea. He wasn’t the sort of guy who provoked that kind of reaction. Like I said, he was a nice boy. Some footballers, they go through life looking for a fight. They need to see themselves as hard men. Robbie wasn’t like that. He was polite, well brought up. More David Beckham than Roy Keane. Guys tried to mix it with him off the field, he’d just walk away. The only thing I can think of…’ Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.
‘What?’
‘It’s stupid, forget it.’
Carol leaned forward. ‘I’m clutching at straws here, Bindie. I’m open to any suggestions, no matter how stupid you think they are.’
She shook her head again, taking an angry toke on her cigarette. ‘It’s just…Gambling. I know there’s shitloads of money swilling around in gambling. You read about these syndicates, millions of pounds up for grabs. Australia, Hong Kong, Korea, the Philippines. A lot of the betting goes on football. There’s been exposes on Five Live and in the papers. I was just wondering…the Vics are doing better than everybody expected this season. They’re up there in contention. They’re giving the big boys headaches. What if…’ She reached for her glass and took a swig of her drink.
‘Would taking out one player make enough of a difference?’ Carol asked, thinking out loud.
Sam’s voice came from the doorway. ‘It would if it was Robbie. Think of all the goals that got scored because Robbie laid them on. Think of all the goals that didn’t get scored because Robbie got the crucial tackle in. Some players, they can lift a whole team. Robbie was like that.’
There was a long silence as they all considered Sam’s words. Then Bindie spoke. ‘I can’t tell you how much the thought of that pisses me off. Taking that much beauty out of the world just for money.’ Bindie made a spitting sound. She covered her mouth with her hand as she drew breath.
‘It’s an interesting suggestion,’ Carol said.
Bindie looked up at her, eyes swimming with tears. ‘My poor sweet boy,’ she said. She sniffed hard and fought her way out of the beanbag. ‘I think it’s time you left. I can’t think of anything else that would help you, and I’ve got music I need to listen to. If I think of anything else, I will call you. But right now, I need to be on my own.’
Out on the street, they leaned against the bonnet of the car, contemplating the dirty orange reflection from the clouds. ‘Interesting idea, the gambling syndicate,’ Sam said.
‘It’s the first thing I’ve heard that makes any sense,’ Carol said. ‘Hell of a way to do it, though. I’d have thought
