Murder Club - Mark Pearson [55]
Delaney used to come to the pub in the old days, when he walked the beat in the area. It was usually a lively pub on a Friday back then, at any time of the year, as he recalled.
‘Second Fuller’s pub I’ve been into today,’ he said to Tony Hamilton as he steered Sally to the bar.
‘What’s it to be, then?’ said the detective inspector, taking a sip from a tall glass of what looked suspiciously like Coca-Cola to Delaney.
‘I’ll have a pint of Guinness.’
‘And the lovely detective constable?’
‘The lovely detective constable will have a soda water and lime. She’s driving.’
‘Yes and the lovely detective constable can speak for herself as well, sir.’
‘At least we all agree she’s lovely,’ said Hamilton and Delaney groaned.
‘Dear God, do you not have a Saturday job selling cheese in the market?’ he said.
Hamilton pulled a stool out for Sally to sit on and gestured the barman over. ‘Pint of Guinness please.’ He looked enquiringly at Sally.
‘I’ll have a soda and lime, and a cheese and onion roll, if they have one?’
The barman grunted, indicating that they had, and set about pouring Delaney’s pint.
‘So what did you learn from the woman?’ asked Delaney.
‘She wasn’t exactly keen to talk.’
‘You think she was lying?’
‘I don’t know. Did you show her the photo?’
Delaney shrugged. ‘I don’t think I did.’
‘Well there you go then. She’s lying. Lying about something anyway. Not about being raped and slashed with a knife. Not about that.’
‘No, she wasn’t lying about that,’ agreed Sally Cartwright.
‘So someone got to her?’ said DI Hamilton.
‘Yeah.’
‘She’s put her house on the market. Suddenly. And she’s put it on cheap.’
‘Can’t blame her for wanting to leave the area.’
‘No.’
‘Specially if she knew that Michael Robinson was moving back in.’
‘Which she would know, when she decided to make that statement in court.’
‘Exactly.’ Delaney took a pull on his pint of Guinness and placed the glass down. ‘I want you to go to Northwick Park Hospital this afternoon, Sally.’
‘Why?’
‘Michael Robinson is a sick fuck. But he has a friend, one assumes.’
‘A partner-in-crime.’
‘Yeah, someone has put the frighteners on Stephanie Hewson, is my guess. Maybe he has put the frighteners on other women. Maybe he has hurt other women. Check the records, see if there have been any women in with knife injuries over the last few years.’
‘We’d have known if something similar had happened before, sir.’
‘No we wouldn’t. Not necessarily. How many women who are raped come forward do you reckon, Sally?’
‘We can’t know for sure.’
‘We do know it is a great deal more who don’t come forward than do,’ agreed Tony Hamilton.
‘With six per cent conviction rates, I’m not too surprised, are you?’
Hamilton shook his head. ‘We’re just the ratcatchers, that’s all. Other people’s job to decide what to do with them.’
Sally looked at Delaney. ‘That’s your expression, isn’t it, sir?’
Delaney ignored her. ‘The thing is a woman might not report a rape, but she would have to report a knife assault.’
‘Unless she claimed it was self-harming.’
‘Self-harmers don’t slash themselves across the belly, Constable.’
‘Some might.’
Delaney drained his Guinness and stood up. ‘Can you give her a lift to Northwick Park?’
DI Hamilton considered for a moment, then smiled at Sally. ‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Where are you going, sir?’
‘Just a little call to make and then I have to go and see the vicar.’
‘Sorting out the wedding?’ said Sally with an innocent expression.
‘Just give me my car keys and save your wit for someone who might