Let Me Lie(52)

A single word.

‘Yes.’

The hand I move could belong to someone else. I touch the edge of the door, lightly, with two fingers.

And I slam it hard in her face.





TWENTY-EIGHT


MURRAY


The second floor of the police station was deserted. Most of the back-office staff didn’t work weekends, and those who did were already on leave. Only the superintendent’s office was occupied, with the boss himself on a call, and his PA typing a report without a single glance at her fingers.

She had tinsel in her hair and was wearing bauble earrings that flashed distractingly. ‘The super needs case papers typing up,’ she had explained, when Murray had wondered what she was doing at work on a Sunday morning, and Christmas Eve, to boot. ‘He wants everything shipshape before the break.’

‘Doing something nice tomorrow?’ she said now.

‘Just a quiet one at home.’ There was a pause. ‘You?’ he added, when it became clear she was waiting for the question.

‘Off to Mum and Dad’s.’ She stopped typing and leaned her folded arms on the desk. ‘We all still have stockings, even though my brother’s twenty-four. We open those first, then we have smoked salmon and scrambled eggs with Buck’s Fizz.’ Murray smiled and nodded as she took him through the traditions of her family Christmas. He wondered how long his bollocking was going to last.

The office door opened.

‘Murray! Sorry to keep you waiting.’

‘No problem.’ Murray omitted the ‘sir’. Not only because he was a civilian now, and no longer bound by rank, but because when Leo Griffiths had been a probationer, and Murray his tutor constable, the younger man had been a grade-A turd.

There were two easy chairs in Leo’s office, but the superintendent sat at his desk, and so Murray took the wooden chair across from him. An expanse of polished wood lay between them, on which Leo pushed around the paperclips that justified his salary.

Leo laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m a little confused.’ He wasn’t, of course, but the superintendent liked to show his workings-out, which tended to draw out the process somewhat. ‘Night-turn attended an incident just before midnight last night, where they spoke to a Mr Mark Hemmings and his partner, Miss Anna Johnson.’

Ah, so it was indeed about the Johnson case.

‘A brick was thrown through a bedroom window. It had a threatening note wrapped around it.’

‘So I heard. A few of the houses in that street have their own security cameras. It would be worth—’

‘All in hand, thank you,’ Leo interrupted smoothly. ‘I’m more concerned about the fact that Miss Johnson reported the incident as part of an ongoing series.’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘An ongoing series being investigated by … you.’

Murray said nothing. You could tie yourself up in knots, saying something for the sake of it. Filling gaps. Ask a question, Leo. Then I’ll answer it.

The pause went on for ever.

‘And what I’m confused about, Murray, is that I was under the impression you were a Station Duty Officer. A civilian Station Duty Officer. And that you retired from CID – and indeed from the police service – several years ago.’

No comment.

A hint of annoyance had crept into Leo’s voice. He was having to work far harder than he was used to. ‘Murray, are you investigating a crime series involving two historic suicides?’

‘I’m not, no.’ They were murders, not suicides.

‘Then what, exactly, have you been doing?’

‘Anna Johnson came in to the front counter on Thursday to discuss some concerns she had over her parents’ sudden deaths, both of which occurred last year. I spent some time answering her questions.’ Murray gave Leo a benign smile. ‘One of the objectives in my PDR is to deliver a high level of customer service. Sir.’

Leo narrowed his eyes. ‘Night-turn said she’d received a malicious communication.’

‘An anonymous card, delivered on the anniversary of her mother’s death.’

‘There’s nothing on the system. Why didn’t you generate a crime report?’

‘What offence would that have been?’ Murray asked politely. ‘There was no threat in the card. No abuse. It was upsetting, of course, but it wasn’t illegal.’ There was a long pause while Leo digested this information.

‘A brick through a window—’

‘Is a criminal act,’ interrupted Murray smoothly, ‘and I’m sure the attending officers will do an excellent job investigating it.’

‘Miss Johnson seems to think her mother’s suicide was, in fact, murder.’

‘So I understand.’ Murray gave a polite smile. ‘Of course, it was the CID team here who looked at the case last year.’

Leo looked at Murray, assessing whether the insinuation had been intentional. If he told Murray off for not taking the job to CID, there was an implicit criticism that the original investigation had been mishandled.

Murray waited.

‘Write up your involvement so far, and pass everything up to CID for them to take a proper look at. Understood?’

‘Perfectly.’ Murray stood, not waiting to be dismissed. ‘Merry Christmas.’