‘And how’d you get in?’
‘I did knock,’ he said. ‘I kept knocking. But you must have already gone into the bathroom. Then one of the cleaners came by.’ He dropped his head, unwilling to look her in the eye. ‘Didn’t know what else to do. Told her I’d locked my key inside. She opened it for me.’
‘You’ve got hidden depths, Joe. You’re wasted in printing.’
‘I don’t know what I was thinking, really. Just wanted to make sure you were all right.’
She smiled for the first time. ‘Very sweet of you, Joe. I’m OK.’ She hesitated momentarily, then said, ‘Pretty much in the shit, though.’
‘What’s this all about, Marie?’
She didn’t know how to respond. She desperately wanted to share all this with someone. At least have the chance to talk about it. But, even if she could bring herself to trust Joe, she couldn’t tell him everything. Not yet.
‘Like I said, it’s a long story. I’ve got myself involved in some things I shouldn’t have.’
‘Can’t say I’m entirely surprised by that,’ he said.
She raised her head at his unexpected response. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I keep my head down,’ he said. ‘But I’m not a total idiot.’
‘I don’t—’
‘I look at the business, the printing stuff. We’re doing all right, but the finances don’t add up. We’d be struggling if we weren’t so well capitalized. So I ask myself, now and again, where the capital comes from. Seems to me it probably doesn’t come entirely from reprographics.’ He smiled faintly. ‘We’re good. But we’re not that good.’
She shook her head. ‘Like I say, you’re full of surprises, Joe.’
‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘But I’ve also seen one or two of the people who come into that place. People who come and talk to you in the office. I was brought up in Cheetham Hill. I know some of those faces.’ He smiled faintly. ‘They were the ones my mum used to tell me to steer clear of. Can’t imagine they come to get their business cards done.’
‘You might have a point,’ she said.
‘Jesus, Marie. Why get mixed up with stuff like that?’
‘I’m not some fluffy airhead, Joe. You know that. I understand what I’m involved in.’
‘But you’re in the shit now,’ Joe pointed out.
‘These things happen.’
‘Christ,’ Joe said, suddenly vehement. ‘I know these things happen. My younger brother’s serving ten because these things happen. Armed fucking robbery in his case. Thought he was smart and was well out of his depth.’
‘Should have listened to your mum, eh?’ Marie said, though she knew that it wasn’t funny.
‘Something like that. So what’s your story?’
She was learning more all the time, she thought. She’d underestimated Joe, that was clear enough. Who knew whether she’d underestimated anyone else.
‘You come across Morgan Jones in your travels?’ she asked.
‘Jones? Professional Welshman. Bit of a creep? That one?’
‘Sounds like the one,’ she agreed. ‘Thing is, he’s now the late Morgan Jones. Shot dead. And I was the last one to see him alive.’
Joe looked up at her. ‘You’re a suspect?’
‘I think, at the moment, I’m
‘Shit.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘You didn’t . . .?’
‘Joe. I know we’ve just spent the last five minutes surprising the hell out of each other, but what do you think?’ Before he could reply, she added, just in case, ‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘Do you know who did?’
‘I don’t know who actually pulled the trigger, if that’s what you mean. But I know who wanted him dead. You know Jeff Kerridge?’
‘I know of him,’ Joe said. ‘Client of ours, isn’t he? His company, anyway.’
‘One of his companies, yes. We do printing for them.’
‘Got his finger in all kinds of pies, from what I’ve heard,’ Joe said. ‘Most of them dodgy. You think he was behind Jones’ death?’
‘Pretty much. Jones was a grass. Kerridge’s associate Pete Boyle’s in custody at the moment. Jones is probably one of the people who put him there.’ It was a precis of the truth, but close enough.
‘That would do it,’ Joe agreed. ‘I’d heard about Boyle. If the rumours are right, Jones wouldn’t be the first grass that Kerridge’s had taken out.’
Marie said nothing for a moment, wondering quite how much Joe knew about her and Jake. ‘I don’t know. I just know he’s landed me well and truly in the crap.’
Joe shook his head. ‘This is crazy, though. Why’ve you done a runner? It’s only a matter of time before they catch up with you. You’ve just made it look worse.’
‘Maybe. I wasn’t thinking straight. It felt as if they’d got me bang to rights.’
‘Hardly. Just because you were the last to see him. When was this, anyway?’
‘Yesterday,’ she said. ‘When I left the office.’
‘Thought that wasn’t your style,’ he said. ‘You looked knackered, but you don’t usually let that stop you. Why’d you go to see Jones?’
‘Reckoned he had a bit of business he could put in my direction.’
‘Not printing?’
‘No, Joe. Not printing. Anyway, I went up to see him. Something and nothing, as it turned out. But it means my prints are all over the room where he was found.’
‘But that doesn’t prove anything. I mean, it doesn’t prove you killed him.’
‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘But it’s not a bad start. Might discourage the police from looking too hard for any other suspects. I don’t suppose they’re too fussed about finding Morgan Jones’ real killer, so long as they can close the case. Anyway, if they start delving into my life, Christ knows what they’ll find.’
‘OK,’ he said wearily. ‘So you’re not planning to give yourself up just at the moment. What are you planning?’
‘Like I say, I wasn’t thinking. Now I’m trying to, but I’m not getting very far.’
‘I could do some digging for you.’
‘What sort of digging?’
‘I don’t know exactly. But, like I say, I know Manchester. I know a lot of these people. My brother . . . well, people knew him. They know me. They know I’m straight. They won’t tell me everything, but they do trust me and they won’t bullshit me. I can maybe find out what people know about Jones’ death. What the word is.’
It didn’t sound a lot, but it was better than anything else she had. ‘Thanks, Joe. That’s good of you.’
He regarded her for a moment, clearly wanting to say something more. ‘If you get through this, Marie, you should have a real think, you know? You’re too good for this.’
‘I’ve told you, Joe. It’s a long story. Sometime I’ll tell you.’
‘I’d like that,’ he said after a pause. ‘I care about you, you know.’ He stopped again, as if he were gearing up for some more momentous announcement. ‘You and me, we could be good for each other, I reckon.’
For a moment, she felt close to tears. It was a long time since anyone had said they cared about her. Not Jake, not in so many words. Not even Liam. She knew Liam did care, but it wasn’t anything he’d ever say. And, in any case, Liam suddenly seemed an awfully long way away.
She was suddenly conscious that she was sitting on the bed, clad only in the hotel dressing gown, her body still damp from the bath, alone in a hotel room with an attractive, likeable man. She pulled the dressing gown more tightly around her, briefly tempted to do the opposite, to take advantage of this unexpected intimacy, this brief respite from the isolation and fear that had become her life.
She quashed the impulse as soon as it arose, knowing that her feelings were nothing more than a reaction to everything she had been through. Joe was a nice man. Maybe they could be good for one another. Maybe one day, perhaps even soon, she might find out.
