'It could be searched again.'
'You think it's that important?'
'If it isn't there, there's a possibility whoever killed Maddy took it with him.'
'A souvenir?'
'Maybe.'
For several moments no one spoke. If that were so, it told them something about the killer, something a profiler could usefully work with.
Karen leaned across and dropped the polystyrene cup and what remained of its contents into the waste bin. 'Getting enough bodies out there's going to be a problem. We may have to rely on volunteers. But I'll make the case as strongly as I can.'
'Good.' Elder was on his feet. 'Just one other thing.'
'Go on.'
'Kennet. That alibi of his. I assume it all checked out?'
Karen shot him a look. 'I thought you didn't fancy him for this?'
'I know. It's just hard to get away from the idea that whoever did this, Maddy knew him, maybe knew him well.'
'I wouldn't exactly say Kennet knew her well, would you?'
'They'd had a relationship.'
'If you can call it that.'
'They'd slept together.'
'Half a dozen times in what? Three months?'
'That isn't a relationship?'
'You tell me.'
Elder held her gaze. 'I'd like to get Sherry to make a few more checks into his background. If you've no objection.'
Karen thought it would be pretty much a waste of time.
'Go ahead,' she said. 'Thanks.'
Graeme Loftus adjusted his position, feet apart, arm extended, sighted along the barrel of his pistol and fired into the centre of the stencilled figure that was menacing him from the target by the far wall. Eighteen rounds clustered around the heart.
By the time he'd signed out and left the building, the rain that had been threatening off and on again had set in with a vengeance. Mike Ramsden intercepted him on his way across the car park.
'Graeme Loftus?'
'Who wants to know?'
'DS Ramsden, Homicide.'
'What's this about?'
'Few minutes of your time, won't take long.'
'I'm getting soaked standing here.'
'That's my Sierra over there. Let's get in out the rain.'
Lee Furness was in the back seat and, with Ramsden holding the door open, Loftus grudgingly slid in alongside him.
'Bloody weather, eh?' Furness said with a grin.
Loftus said nothing. His reddish hair was darkened by the rain.
'Maddy Birch,' Ramsden said.
Loftus blinked. 'Who?'
'Maddy Birch.'
Loftus shook his head.
Furness took a photograph from his pocket and held it up between them.
'Oh, yes.' Loftus blinked again and wiped something, real or imaginary, from his moustache.
'You remember her now,' Ramsden said.
'Of course I bloody do.'
'Knew her well, then?'
'No.'
'You're sure.'
'Course I'm sure.'
'Not for want of trying.'
'Look, what -'
Ramsden smiled. 'All over her, what I've heard. Like a rutting bloody stag.'
'That's bollocks.'
'Pig at the fuckin' trough.'
Alongside Loftus, Furness laughed. Outside, the rain showed no sign of easing.
'Listen,' Loftus said, man to man. 'I gave her a bit of chat, offered to buy her a drink, you know how it is.'
Ramsden grinned encouragingly. 'Sure. Good-looking woman, out on her own. Few pints down. You were on the pull.'
'If you like, yeah.'
'Leg over at the end of the evening, only natural, right? Where's the harm?'
'Yeah.'
'Except she didn't want to know. Maddy.'
'Yeah, well… Can't score every time, you know?'
'And when she told you no deal?'
Loftus shrugged. 'That was that. End of story.'
'You walked away.'
'Yes.'
'And then?'
'Then nothing.'
'Had to smart a bit, though, getting the big no in front of everyone. Slinkin' away with your dick between your legs. Not so good for the old ego.'
Loftus shook his head. 'Happens, doesn't it?'
'Often? To you, I mean?'
Loftus bridled. 'No, not often.'
Ramsden glanced across at Furness and winked. 'Lover man. Cock of the walk. Just see him, Lee, can't you? Strutting his stuff. Rutting around.'
'All right,' Loftus said, colouring, 'that's enough.'
'Temper, too. Quick to rouse. Redheads, of course, what you expect. True to type.' Ramsden's fingers executed a little paradiddle along the back of the seat. 'Didn't take your temper out on Maddy, I hope? When you saw her again? You did see her again, didn't you?'
Loftus pushed open the car door. 'All right, we're through. Anything else you want to say to me, make it official. Federation solicitor, the whole bit. Otherwise, stay out of my way.'
Leaving the door wide open, he strode off into the rain.
'Touchy, isn't he?' Ramsden said.
23
