Murder Club - Mark Pearson [28]
‘No! But I’d go so far as to say the man is a bloody liability!’
‘To be frank, sir, I don’t know why you allow the press to agitate you so much. It was a righteous arrest.’
‘Righteous? What are we – in the United States of Bloody America now?’
‘It was a sound arrest. The CPS would never have allowed it to get to court, if it hadn’t been.’
‘And yet Michael Robinson is swearing he was fitted up. Fitted up by Detective Inspector Jack Delaney.’
‘Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he?’
‘Maybe he would. But he is also saying now, to whoever will listen to him, that the person who attempted to murder him said he was doing so at the behest of your Irish bloody troublemaker. We are talking conspiracy to murder here, Diane.’
‘Jack Delaney would never be a party to that, sir.’
‘And are you absolutely sure of that?’
Diane Campbell looked at her boss without answering. She didn’t trust herself.
21.
DR KATE WALKER closed the passenger door of the car and nodded to DC Sally Cartwright who had driven the pair of them out of town to the churchyard near to the QPR football ground, a half a mile or so from White City Police station.
The DC had called Kate earlier that morning, waking her from a dream: she and Jack were having a barbecue in her back garden. It was summer, and the sun was as hot as she could remember. She had looked puzzled at the pond in her garden; the York stones that had been laid around it were green with moss. And the fish in the pond were large carp, their reds and golds flashing in the sunlight. A voice behind her, and she turned round. There was Siobhan, only she wasn’t seven any more – she was in her early twenties and was dressed in a beautiful wedding gown. And behind her were four bridesmaids, her daughters, ranging from seven years old to thirteen. Hers and Jack’s daughters. All with his curly black hair and bright blue eyes. The youngest one ran up and took her hand.
‘Come on, Mummy, we’ll be late,’ she had said.
‘Where’s Jack?’ Kate had asked, and Siobhan had looked at her, tears welling in her beautiful, big eyes.
‘Oh Kate,’ she had said. ‘Don’t you remember?’
Then the sound of a police siren that pierced the hot summer air. And the siren had become the sound of a bell, her bedside phone ringing, and Kate had started awake. Her heart thumping in her chest and her mouth dry. She snatched the phone up and it took her a moment or two before she could steady her breath and speak. It had been Detective Constable Sally Cartwright.
‘Not the wake-up call I had in mind first thing this morning,’ she said, yawning now into a gloved hand and tightening her jacket as she walked beside the constable into the churchyard. The gravestones visible in the cemetery attached to the church sent goosebumps down her back as she remembered her dream.
‘Sorry, Kate. Like I said on the blower, I couldn’t get hold of Dr Chilvers and David Riley called in sick. So it was down to you.’ She shrugged apologetically.
Kate looked up at the sky, still thick with snow clouds, although it had actually stopped snowing, for a time at least. ‘At least this time David Riley was being genuine and isn’t at a golf-society match!’
Sally shook her head, chuckling. ‘I wouldn’t put it past him. Strange breed, golfers. Probably play with red balls or something. Sorry again – I know you were on a late shift last night.’
‘It’s not your fault and at least it wasn’t an all-nighter,’ said Kate as she unlatched the gate and they walked into the church grounds. ‘But I had a pile of paperwork to catch up on, and I don’t want anything hanging over me with Christmas coming. I want to have the decks totally clear. Have a proper holiday this year.’
‘I know how that works. How was the inspector this morning?’
Kate shrugged ruefully. ‘He left before I got up, was sleeping like a baby when I got in.’
‘Not too worried about the court case then?’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘You know Jack!’
Sally returned the grin. ‘That’s true. Personally I hope they lock the door on that sick, fucking bastard Michael Robinson and throw away the key!’
Kate looked