‘Thanks, Mum.’ She blew her a kiss.
‘Say hi from me.’
Teflon was propped against the bar with Ajay when she arrived. Both wore sharp, skinny suits and fitted shirts, but there the resemblance ended. Tomas was pasty white with mousey hair and water-grey eyes, contrasting sharply beside Ajay’s dark skin from his Caribbean heritage and his plentiful gold jewellery.
‘Hey, DD!’ Tomas called. His face split into a grin. ‘Lookin’ good as usual!’
She was glad she didn’t blush. Not like ten years ago, when he’d found out her middle name and called her Delicious Demi, DD. She’d flushed beetroot then, making him and his cronies hoot with laughter. It could have been worse, she supposed, and she was glad she had relatively small boobs, taking the sting out of a nickname where people might assume the DD was for a double D cup-size.
‘Vodka and tonic, please.’
‘Reg!’ he called. ‘You heard the lady!’
He pulled out a stool for her but she chose to stand. She nodded at Ajay, who nodded back. ‘Any news?’ he asked.
She just looked at him.
‘Sorry,’ he said without looking repentant. ‘We’re all friends here. At least I thought we were.’
I’m not your friend, she thought. I’m a fucking policewoman investigating a murder.
‘Sure,’ she said, and smiled.
‘DD here’s one of the sharper pencils in the box,’ Tomas told Ajay. ‘She won tickets for Pirates of the Caribbean, At World’s End, for getting the answer first.’
Lucy blinked.
‘Don’t you remember?’ He was grinning. ‘Three missionaries and three hungry cannibals have to cross a river using a two-man rowing boat. If on either bank cannibals outnumber missionaries, the missionaries will be eaten. How can everyone cross safely?’
‘Good God,’ she said. She’d forgotten all about it.
‘I really wanted to go.’ His gaze turned distant. ‘But I was crap at maths. It was the only time I regretted slacking off. Christ, I was jealous…’
She turned her palm out in a commiserating gesture but didn’t apologise. She’d been thrilled, and so had her mum. It had been a great movie and a real treat, considering how expensive the tickets had been.
‘Eleven one-way trips,’ Ajay announced.
‘Sorry, mate,’ Tomas said. ‘You’re twelve years too late.’
‘But you can always rent the DVD,’ Lucy added. ‘Or catch it on Netflix.’
Both Lucy and Tomas cracked up.
‘On that note…’ Ajay was dry. ‘I’ll see you later, pal.’ He bumped fists with Tomas, flicked a salute at Lucy.
‘Later,’ she said.
She stirred her drink, took a sip. ‘So, both you and Ricky have the same solicitor.’
Tomas shrugged. ‘We share a racehorse and like bagels too.’
‘What about Kaitlyn Rogers?’
‘Nah.’ He shook his head. ‘Never even met her.’
‘What about other girlfriends? Did you meet any of them?’
His gaze turned cool. ‘You’re wearing your cop hat, aren’t you?’
‘Tomas,’ she sighed. ‘I’m investigating a murder. What hat would you like me to wear?’
At that, he smiled. His teeth used to be discoloured and crooked, a product of his poor diet and lack of dental care when he was a kid, but now they were strong and straight and bright white. They must have cost a fortune.
‘Fair enough,’ he agreed. ‘You’ll get Ricky off, though, won’t you? I can’t have him inside. Not exactly convenient.’
‘Get him off?’ She stared at him.
‘Poor choice of words. Find him innocent, I meant.’
‘That’s why I’m on the investigative team.’ She slowed her words purposely, as though she was talking to an idiot. ‘To find the truth. Bring the killer to justice.’
He saluted. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Then he sobered. ‘Seriously, Lucy. He’s a pal. We’re like this.’ He twisted his fore and middle finger together. ‘Like brothers. Tell me what I can do.’
He was, she thought, just like his dad, with his own sense of justice. She remembered when Stan was jailed, nobody dwelled on the fact he’d swindled dozens of people because just before he was arrested, he’d returned the money to anyone who said they were in financial difficulty. Lucy had read an article on him titled ‘Lovable Rogue or Rip-off Merchant?’ Stan was both, and she guessed Tomas was cut from the same cloth.
She took a sip of her drink. Thought for a moment. ‘When did you last see Ricky?’
‘Friday before last. We had a Chinese before we played a game of pool.’
‘Where were you?’
‘My place.’
He gave her an address in Southwark, in a new residential tower that had spectacular views over Blackfriars Bridge.
‘Two bedrooms?’ she enquired, ever nosy.
‘Three.’
Ten million plus, then.
‘Nice,’ she said.
He nodded. She liked that he didn’t crow over his ill-gotten wealth, or rub it in.
‘Did he mention Kaitlyn to you?’
Tomas shook his head. ‘Not a word.’
Lucy raised her hand and twisted her fore and middle finger together, eyebrows lifted.
‘He met her on Sunday. He only knew her for five days.’ His face was surprisingly sad.
Lucy asked him about Ricky’s clients.
‘I brought most of them to him,’ he admitted. ‘He was fucking terrible at getting new business but he’s a shit-hot accountant and anyone who uses him once, sticks with him. He’s good value too. Trust me.’ He gave a sigh. ‘I’m having another beer. You?’
As they drank, the place began to fill up. Their conversation drifted between Lucy asking questions and Tomas having sudden reminiscences. Including the time he’d hot-wired the head’s car and taken it for a joy ride.
‘God, his face!’ Tomas started to laugh. ‘He looked as though he was going to have a heart attack.’
Lucy didn’t join in with the laughter. She didn’t want to be prissy but she didn’t want to condone illegal behaviour, no matter that he’d done it when he was fifteen.
‘Sorry.’ His eyes were alight, teasing. ‘I’d forgotten who I was talking to for a moment.’
‘Look, off the record, is there anyone who’d want to stitch Ricky up that you know of?’
‘Seriously?’ He sucked his lips as he thought. ‘Not off the top of my head. But I’ll ask around. Let you know. Another?’ He nodded at her glass.
‘No thanks. Look, before I
