Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(14)

‘I don’t think he’s allowed to do that,’ says Lenny.

Marlene grunts.

Lenny is carefully moving plates in the sink, looking for mugs she can wash up. I study the room, the bric-a-brac magnetised to the fridge. Holiday snaps. Birthday cards. A postcard from Marbella. A child’s crayon drawing.

‘You have grandchildren,’ I say.

‘Eight of them,’ replies Marlene proudly. ‘Cops killed two of my boys, but I still got three girls, all good breeders. We grow through the cracks.’

‘Like weeds,’ says Lenny.

‘Yeah, like weeds.’

Lenny returns to Paulie. ‘Where are you working?’

‘He’s self-employed,’ says Marlene. ‘Buying and selling cars. Always been good with his hands.’

‘Very light-fingered,’ says Lenny.

The old woman scowls.

‘I’m going to be a race-car driver,’ says Paulie, jutting out his chin. ‘Got myself a low-flying rocket.’

I pull aside the curtain and gaze into the rear garden where two car chassis are jacked onto blocks. A third vehicle, a souped-up Ford Focus RS, is partially covered by a tarpaulin.

‘Street-racing?’

He grins. ‘That would be illegal.’

‘When was the last time you saw Maya Kirk?’ asks Lenny.

Paulie looks at her blankly.

‘You can’t have forgotten already. You were peering through her bedroom window.’

‘Weren’t me,’ says Paulie. The whiskers on his top lip barely move.

‘You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree,’ says Marlene.

‘Where were you last night?’ asks Lenny.

‘He was here with me,’ says Marlene. ‘Is that true?’

Paulie lowers his head, but I’m not sure it’s a nod.

‘Why are you so interested in Maya?’ asks the old woman.

‘Rohan Kirk was murdered last night. Maya has disappeared.’

The old woman’s face folds into creases, which could signify genuine concern or acid reflux.

‘That poor mite.’ She looks at Paulie. ‘You seen Maya?’

‘No, Gran.’

‘Good.’ She nods, as though the matter is settled.

‘How do you know her?’ I ask.

‘Maya used to babysit for me when Paulie was little. She and her sister would ride their bikes up and down the road.’

‘And they both worked in Powell’s,’ says Paulie, finding his voice.

‘The bakery,’ explains Marlene. ‘On weekends. They used to slip Paulie an iced bun when the owner wasn’t lookin’.’

‘Did you fancy her?’ asks Lenny.

Paulie looks shocked. ‘I was seven years old.’

‘I mean later, when you grew hair on your bollocks.’

‘Nah, she was too old for me.’

‘Yet you were seen peeping through her bedroom window.’

‘It weren’t me.’

‘Did you take pictures?’

Paulie’s eyes flash with anger and his fingers have curled into fists, causing a vein to bulge on his forearms, blue against white.

‘Why are you picking on Paulie?’ asks Marlene. ‘Haven’t we suffered enough? You lot killed his father and his uncle.’

‘They were armed,’ says Lenny.

‘With starter pistols.’

‘Replica handguns are regarded as illegal firearms.’

‘They were boys!’

‘They were twenty-two and twenty-five.’

The two women glare at each other. Lenny sighs and looks embarrassed for getting involved in the argument.

I motion to the yard. ‘What are you driving, Paulie?’

‘Depends.’

‘What were you driving last night?’

He doesn’t answer.

‘We’ll find out if you weren’t at home,’ says Lenny. ‘We can track your phone using GPS.’

‘I went out to the pub with a few mates,’ says Paulie, making it sound like a God-given right.

‘Which pub?’

‘The Lord Kitchener.’

‘What time?’

‘About nine. We had a few pints then drove around a bit.’

‘When did you get home?’

‘I don’t remember. Gran was asleep in front of the TV. She does that a lot.’

I can hear the rumble of engines in the street outside. The sound dies quickly and moments later the front door opens and two men enter. Both are about Paulie’s age. One is tall and athletic and the other overweight and spilling out of his motorcycle leathers.

‘Sorry, Mrs B, didn’t realise you had company,’ says the tall one.

‘They were just leaving,’ says Marlene.

‘I smell pork,’ says the fat one, who leans close to Lenny and sniffs.

Lenny doesn’t react. She seems to be pondering her next move, not wanting to antagonise the Brennans, but also unwilling to back down.

‘Were you gentlemen with Paulie last night?’ she asks.

They glance at Paulie. ‘I don’t know – were we?’

‘We went to the pub and drove around for a bit,’ says Paulie, reminding them.