Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(36)

They had clashed numerous times on the case but he’d never been quite so direct before.

‘Look, I care about you,’ he said, glancing away. ‘I get it. You’re young, ambitious. Believe me, I understand, but part of learning is knowing when you’re wrong.’

He took a drink of his beer and then wiped at his mouth. ‘You’ve got to let it go, Ali,’ he said, touching her hand gently. ‘I know it’s hit you hard and you’re probably bored but…’

She pulled away. She’d hated the shortening of her name when they’d worked together and she hated it even more now.

‘It’s Alison,’ she growled. ‘And what are you doing here anyway?’ she challenged. ‘Clearly you have some doubts too.’

He shook his head. ‘I believe we got the right guy. There’s no doubt in my mind that Curtis did it. But unlike you I’m here trying to strengthen the police case, not weaken it. Someone here must have seen him leave with Beverly.’

She tried to keep the frown from her face. ‘Why are you still on it and I’m not?’ she asked, taking a sip of her drink. She didn’t really want it and pushed it away causing some of the liquid to splosh over the side. Jamie took out a tissue and wiped away the spillage.

‘Because I didn’t put my neck on the line. I listened to what was being said about the case, mixed that knowledge with my own experience of the human psyche and then offered my opinion.’

‘But you said it was someone who had intimate knowledge of Jennifer and yet there’s nothing to suggest Curtis had any intimate knowledge of Beverly who—’

‘Is a known prostitute and has been intimate with hundreds if not thousands of men. I mean, given what she does…’

‘Don’t even think about saying she bears any blame because she’s a sex worker,’ Alison raged. ‘Only one person is responsible and that’s the bastard—’

‘I wasn’t saying that, now calm down. My point is that Beverly was putting her life on the line every time she got into the car of a stranger and you know that’s true.’

Yes, she had to admit he was right.

Silence fell between them. ‘And when I asked you to go out for a drink with me before you left this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’

Alison forced herself to calm down. He’d asked her a few times but she’d always been wrapped up in the case.

‘Maybe another time we could meet and not argue about work,’ he said, finishing his drink and standing.

‘Maybe,’ she answered.

‘Well, at least I stopped you from whatever it was you were about to do that wouldn’t have ended well.’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ she said as he brushed past her and headed towards the door.

In truth, she had no clue what she’d been hoping to achieve. This was not her world. She didn’t meet witnesses or even interview suspects. Ironic that her work was based on people yet she met so few of them. Her subjects were abstract, not flesh and bone. She spent her days making composites like an identity artist only hers were psychological.

Like Jamie had said, she’d come here blindly, unprepared and ill-equipped, she thought, as she watched Tom Drury moving from one end of the bar, making drinks and chatting amiably.

Did she think that after a five-minute conversation he was going to confess all and prove her right, thereby reinstating the respect of her peers and an immediate thaw? Well she was surely disappointed because she’d barely exchanged two sentences with the man.

She kept her head down and left the bar quietly, relieved to be back out in the fresh air.

Having consumed no more than a half-hearted sip of white wine she felt confident to drive herself home.

It was only as she pulled out of the car park that a sudden thought occurred to her.

If West Mercia were so sure they’d got the right man, why was Jamie here trying to strengthen their case?





Forty-Nine





Kim opened the single window and switched on the desk fan next to the printer. Despite a thunderstorm at 3 a.m. that had brought a terrified, shivering Barney onto her bed, the heat was still building towards the twenties and it wasn’t even eight yet.

‘Yay, chocolate muffins are my faves,’ Stacey said from the general office. Clearly, she and Penn had met up on the way in and were discussing the contents of Penn’s Tupperware box. Penn’s brother had taken a shine to Stacey. Every day there was a specially decorated cake just for her and the detective constable was always eager to see what it was.

‘Morning, boss,’ they said, together, as they took their seats. Both had obviously seen the weather forecast and had not bothered with jackets.

Unlike the man who followed closely behind the pair in a navy suit, white shirt and sky blue tie.

‘Guv,’ he said, nodding in her direction.

‘And that just leaves…’

‘Am I late?’ asked Alison, slipping into the chair at the spare desk.

Kim shook her head with the suspicion that the woman had never been late for anything in her life.

‘Right guys, short briefing this morning as Bryant and I never got to meet with John Duggar, the ex-cellmate of Symes due to the car fire. So, here’s what I want,’ she said.

The whole team was poised for instruction, except for Alison who was slowly removing things from her briefcase.