me,’ I offered as the first stage in what was going to be a long apology. ‘You won’t be able to manage the stairs at your place for a few days.’
She nodded. ‘You’re probably right. Won’t Richard mind?’
‘Only if you try to arrest him for possession.’
Della managed a tired smile. ‘I think I can manage to restrain myself.’
‘So what actually happened?’ Alexis chipped in, unable to restrain herself indefinitely.
‘Gun battle in Manchester’s clubland,’ I said. ‘Police officer held hostage. Man helping police with inquiries, two gunmen sought. Club owner seriously injured, two police officers with minor injuries. One private investigator who wasn’t there.’
Alexis grinned. ‘I hate it when you come home with half a tale.’
Later, a lot later, when Della was asleep in my bed and Richard in his, I sat in the dark in the conservatory with a strong mixture of Smirnoff Black Label and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice and contemplated the capital D of the moon. Tony Tambo hadn’t made it; one of Della’s colleagues had rung to tell her not ten minutes after we got home. I sipped my drink and thought about how far reality had diverged from the simple little sting I’d envisaged. I’d gone in all gung ho and full of myself, and now a man was dead. He’d had a girlfriend and an ex- wife and a little daughter who was the apple of his eye, according to Richard. He wasn’t supposed to behave like a hero, but then, I hadn’t imagined there was going to be any need for heroics.
If my life was like the movies, my character would be planning vengeance, putting the word out in the underworld that she wanted those guys so bad she could taste it. And they would be delivered to her in such a way that she could decide their fate. But my life isn’t like the movies. I knew I’d be doing nothing to discover the identities of the gunmen, where they hung out or who they ran with. That was the police’s job, and I couldn’t do it without placing more lives in danger. After what had happened to Tony Tambo, I was through with setting myself up against the major players.
I took a long cool swallow and tried not to think about Tony’s daughter. Tried not to despise myself too much. Tried desperately to remember why I’d been working so hard to find a way to stay in this destructive game.
I woke around half past seven, just as the sun climbed over my back fence and hit the end of the wicker settee where I’d finally lost consciousness. I was still wearing the T-shirt and jogging pants I’d put on after the shower I’d needed to get the last of Tony Tambo’s blood off me. If there’s a female equivalent of unshaven, I felt it. I rubbed the grit out of my eyes, wincing at the arrow of pain in my left wrist, and stumbled through to the kitchen. I was just filling the coffee maker with water when I heard Della call me. ‘Be right there,’ I said, finishing the job.
Della was propped up on my pillows looking ten years older than she had done the day before. According to my wardrobe mirror, that still gave her a few on me. ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.
‘You see it all.’
‘That bad? Shit, I’d better take your shoelaces and belt then.’
Della reached out and limply patted my hand. ‘Do I smell coffee?’
‘You do. Life-support systems will be available shortly.’
Ten minutes later, we were sharing the first pot of coffee of the day. I even relaxed the house rules enough to let her smoke in my bed. ‘What have you got on today?’ she asked.
I shrugged. ‘I thought I might go down to the university and see if I can sign up to finish my law degree this autumn.’
Della was suddenly alert. ‘Part time?’ she said suspiciously.
‘Full time.’
‘Tony Tambo’s death was not your fault,’ she said firmly.
‘I know that. I just don’t know if I want to do this job any more. I didn’t think it was going to be like this. Come to that, it didn’t use to be like this. I don’t know if it’s the world that’s turning nastier or if it’s just that I’ve had a run of cheesy luck, but some days I feel like there should be a task force of counsellors, undertakers and paramedics in the car behind me.’
Della shook her head, exasperated. ‘My God, you are feeling sorry for yourself this morning, aren’t you? Listen, I’m the one who screwed up royally last night. A man died, and other people could have. The only way I could feel worse than I do now is if it had been you lying there on the mortuary slab. I’ve also probably kissed goodbye to my next promotion. But I’m not about to hand in my resignation. Even though I make mistakes, the police service needs people like me more than I need to gratify my guilt. I don’t have to tell you about the dozens of sleazy, creepy exploitative PIs there are out there. Your business needs you, just like the police needs me. What about all the times when you’ve changed people’s lives for the better? You got Richard out of jail, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, but if it hadn’t been for me, he wouldn’t have been there in the first place,’ I reminded her.
‘You’ve saved businesses from going down the tube because you’ve identified the people who were stealing their money and their ideas. You’ve done work that has helped to clear up major drug syndicates.’
‘Oh yeah? And that’s really made a difference to the amount of drugs rattling around the streets of Manchester.’
‘What about that case you were working when I first met you? The land fraud? If it hadn’t been for your work, Alexis and Chris would have been comprehensively ripped off and they wouldn’t be living in their dream home now. You’ve made a real difference in their lives,’ Della insisted.
Her mention of Alexis and Chris reminded me forcibly of one job I still had to finish. Even if I was going to throw the towel in and sell my share of the business along with Bill, I couldn’t walk away from Sarah Blackstone’s murder.
When I failed to respond to Della, she gave my arm a gentle punch. ‘You see? It breaks my little police heart to say it, but this city needs people who don’t carry a warrant card.’
I swallowed my coffee. ‘You sound like Commissioner Gordon,’ I said acidly. ‘Della, I’m not Batman and this isn’t Gotham City. Maybe I could make just as much difference as a lawyer. Maybe Ruth would take me on.’
Della snorted. ‘Listen to yourself. You want to go from cutting the feet from under the villains to defending them? You couldn’t be a criminal lawyer. It’s not possible only to defend the innocent, and you know it.’
‘I sure as hell couldn’t be a Crown Prosecutor either,’ I growled.
‘I know you couldn’t. It’s just as impossible only to prosecute the guilty. The trouble with you, Kate, is you understand the moral ambiguity of real life. And you’re lucky, because the job you do lets you exercise that. You decide who your clients will be. You decide to defend the innocent and nail the guilty. You’re too moral to be a lawyer. You’re a natural maverick. Exploit it, don’t ignore it.’
I sighed. Now I knew why Philip Marlowe didn’t bother with buddies.
Chapter 23
I’d got as far as Leeds before my determination ran out. It wasn’t entirely my fault. Sherpa Tensing would have a job unravelling the roads in the centre of Leeds fast enough to take the right turning for the police admin building where I’d find the press officer I needed. Since I found myself inevitably heading for Skipton, I pulled off at Hyde Park Corner and killed some time with a decadent fruit shake in the radical chic Hepzi-bahz cafe while I reviewed where I was up to on the case that stood between me and a new life.
The more I looked at Sarah Blackstone, the more I grew convinced that this murder was about the personal, not the accidental or even the professional. Sure, one of her patients might have her suspicions about the biological co-parent of her daughter, but to confirm even that much wouldn’t be easy for a lay person. And even if it were confirmed, it was still a long way from there to murder, given that her patients didn’t even know her real name. Logically, if a patient had killed her, the body should have been in the Manchester clinic, not the Leeds house.
