Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 (4 page)

‘You knew she was dead?’ asked Hobbs.

‘Yeah, taking tea with the angels.’

Bugg chuckled to himself.

‘Which bit was funny?’ I knew it was a trap but their three questions were nearly up.

‘Just by looking at her, eh, Eddie,’ sniped Bugg. ‘You could tell.’ He feigned another flat chuckle. ‘We’ve got hospitals stuffed full of high tech kit so doctors can ascertain if someone’s clinically dead or not. But our Eddie can just
tell
.’

‘You don’t have to come from stiff-land to recognise a stiff, you know’.

Bugg shook his head, and I set my deadpan smile to eleven. ‘Was I wrong?’

‘You’ve been watching too much CSI,’ he snorted.

‘You’ve been pulling your pudding too long.’

My reply was a mistake, and I knew it long before I got to “long
”
.

Bugg lunged across the table at me and I covered his move. With a lightning reflex born of distant Cherokee ancestry, I sprang up, shifted all my weight to the right side and blocked Bugg’s outstretched arm. As he swung his other arm I caught it by the wrist and held it firmly. I remembered my
Do San
pattern. Indomitable spirit is all.

We were both on our feet, staring at each other. Then Bugg retreated, stunned. Hobbs pulled him roughly by the shoulder, pressing him back into his seat. Nursing his wrist, Bugg glowered at me.

The prospect of Bugg being my new bestie had all but gone. And the show wasn’t over yet.

CHAPTER FOUR

Thursday – 14:20 (still the day before)

Still standing, I clutched the back of my left hand and acted out an impressive grimace. With my good hand I grabbed the microphone and pointed at Bugg. I hesitated, the now redundant prop wavering in my hand. I managed a half-smile and rested the microphone on the table.

‘Sorry. Back to the studio.’

‘That’s enough,’ said Hobbs, his voice rising for the first time.

Before sitting I made a visual estimation of Bugg’s lunge distance and moved my chair back accordingly.

Hobbs turned to his number two. ‘Detective Sergeant Bugg,’ he said. ‘I will not tolerate that type of behaviour, understood?’

Bugg offered a brief, reluctant nod.

‘Let’s move on.’ Hobbs peered at me. ‘Eddie, you say you were
sure
she was dead?’

‘As soon as I saw her, I figured she wasn’t in a state
au naturale
. Her body was twisted, head at a funny angle, eyes open. Piss and shit everywhere. I listened at her mouth – no breathing. Checked her pulse – it wasn’t exactly bouncing.’

‘How long did it take you to get to her house after she called?’

‘Fifteen minutes.’

Hobbs stared at me as if he wanted me to go on, so I did. ‘I was in town when I got the call. Near the station. I dived into that greasy spoon on Brook Street and railroaded some Romanian taxi driver. Showed him all the short-cuts. Say what you like, but the east euros are far more receptive than our Weighton born and inbreds. The locals only know one way: the long way.’ I shrugged. ‘And fast response time, that’s what it’s all about in our game, right?’

Hobbs’ face remained blank.

I glanced from one to the other, wearing my question face. ‘Maybe it took you less?’

Hobbs was still pondering the fifteen minutes. ‘You’re absolutely sure that’s all it took.’

‘Yeah. I time-checked it on the ol’ Seiko Quartz.’ I gave them a glimpse. ‘None finer.’

Hobbs stabbed his finger at me. ‘You’re lying.’

Bugg’s hand fell away from his neck, startled by the accusation. He sat a little taller, his egg-nogged shirt brushing over the table.

‘Chief, what do you want,’ I asked, palms to the ceiling. ‘Facts to fit the case or the truth?’

Hobbs flicked an eyebrow, regarded me silently for a couple of beats, then fingered one of the papers in front of him. ‘You’re not as daft as you make out,’ he muttered, more to himself than to me.

‘I think you’ll find it pays in this line of work.’

‘Guv,’ cut in Bugg, ‘the guy’s a clown.’

Hobbs’ tone sharpened. ‘Did you examine the body, Sergeant?’

‘No, Guv.’

‘If you had, you’d already know what the lab result will confirm for us in due course: she’d probably been dead for hours.’ Hobbs looked directly back at me. ‘You already knew.’

‘Yeah, she was ice cube cold all right. Rigor setting in. And the smell … No way fifteen minutes. Even
Magnum
could have told you that.’ I grinned at Bugg. ‘Maybe even you.’

Bugg’s hands flexed, but he held himself in check. ‘If she’d been dead for hours how come she phoned you fifteen minutes earlier?’

I did my best Goofy impression. ‘Well, er, like, er, how should I know, Sarge?’ I faded out the voice effects and resumed. ‘You’re the detective. You tell me? How come I’m doin’ all the heavy lifting around here? Anyone can see it’s a freakin’ set-up.’

‘Are you sure it was her voice?’ asked Hobbs.

‘Look, it sounded like her. I’m hardly likely to say, “What the hell are you doing yakking down the phone when you died three hours ago”.’

‘You said
three
hours?’ Bugg stared hard.

‘So?’

‘Why three?’

‘Why do you think?’

There was silence. It wasn’t meant to have sounded rhetorical, but I pushed on all the same. ‘I opened her up, performed a quick autopsy, did some calculations based on the contents of her stomach and rounded it to three.’

From Bugg’s expression I could tell he didn’t believe the rounding up part. ‘It was a guess, okay?’

Bugg shook his head. ‘It sounded specific.’

‘Oh it did, did it? Well there you go. You got me. I confess. But I swear it was self-defence.’

Bugg shot off his chair, and I assumed the classic Tae Kwon Do defence stance, but this time I was only required to avert his accusing finger.

‘The routine doesn’t fool me,’ said Bugg, his voice a full octave higher. ‘You’re up to your armpits in this, and I’ll get the goods.’ He took a deep breath, let it go slowly, and then sat back down.

With a look, Hobbs gave Bugg a second warning. Then he turned his stare on me. ‘Why didn’t you call us after you found her?’

‘She was dead and only getting deader. I needed time to think. Something wasn’t right about the whole thing. I could feel it. The longer I was there, the more I thought I’d know.’

‘Okay, Eddie, we get the picture.’

‘Yeah, and I can see the frame.’

Hobbs sighed. ‘Eddie, you’re involved whether you like it or not. Get used to it.’ He shuffled some papers in front of him and leaned forward. ‘There’s something you didn’t cover. Why did Mrs Porson hire you?’

‘Reasonable rates, discretion assured.’

Exasperation cleared Hobbs’ throat. ‘I
meant
, what did she want you to do for her?’

‘That would be breaking a deceased client’s confidentiality, which isn’t entirely ethical. Is it? Check out number three in my ops manual.’

Hobbs leaned over the table, holding up his index finger. ‘What about looking after number one, Eddie? Where does that come?’

‘That’s in there. But I’m big on ethics. It’s not all about self-interest.’

‘So how about co-operating with us?’

‘Different manual. I adhere to the “Good Citizens Charter” like anyone else. But I do have a good lady’s name to protect.’

Hobbs sat back in his chair and sighed again. ‘Here’s the position. You don’t leave here until we get everything. You tell us now, or we’ll leave you to think about it. If you’re lucky we might even get back to this today.’

I pressed my fingers to the side of my head. In a perfect world there would have been a dilemma. Agonise briefly before giving in to the inevitable, or agonise a while and give in later. It was just a game to them. But if I had even one talent in this shitty world, it was that I could see a way out of a tight spot and grab it. There was a deal to be done. Part of it was to find Helen Porson’s killer, whatever it took. But I could only do that on the outside. In the meantime I had to pay the piper. And he wasn’t just looking for loose change.

I mouthed a silent apology to Mrs Porson, and then continued. ‘She was being blackmailed. Asked me to look into it.’ I shrugged. ‘That’s it.’

‘That isn’t
it
at
all
,
Eddie,’ screeched Hobbs. ‘What was she being blackmailed about?’

A bad feeling bubbled up in my stomach. ‘She was having an affair.’

‘She was a widow, no ties. What’s to blackmail?’

‘Sleeping with the Right Worshipful Mayor for Weighton, that’s what.’

‘Clegg?’

I nodded, holding off a nervous smile. ‘Our happily married, sleaze-free, colourfully-robed, crusading Mayor.’

Hobbs looked shocked. You could practically hear levers and gears clanking in his head. ‘Why wasn’t Clegg being blackmailed?’

‘They both were, but it was being done through her. She got left a small fortune when her husband died.
Suivez la
dosh, hey.’

‘How did they contact her?’

‘She showed me two notes. Both done using newspaper cut-outs. A criminal mastermind working overtime on this caper, yeah? Anyway, the first note said they knew about her and Clegg. That was it, no demands. The second said they wanted a lump sum to help them forget. Told her to get fifty thousand together within a week and there’d be another note to arrange a drop. That’s when she made her first smart move and called me.’

‘Have you got the notes?’

‘No. I asked to keep ‘em, but she wasn’t feeling too trusting. Not even with the noble Eddie G. I checked out the envelopes, though. Typed address and Weighton postmark, if that helps. Your boys should find them in her stuff.’

Hobbs made a note and pressed on. ‘Did she give you anything else to go on?’

‘Nil, nada, and nothing, basically. She said no one else knew. Not her friends or family.’ I blew out my cheeks. ‘Family wise, she’s only got a son, married, lives in Manchester. She and Clegg were never together in public. They only met at an apartment in town. Rented. Wouldn’t say where.’

‘How did they first meet?’ asked Bugg.

‘Some charity bash she helped organise. He was the guest of honour. He asked her out for dinner afterwards as a thank-you. Nothing in it. Then they met in London, he for a conference, she visiting friends, same hotel. Coincidence, she told me. Anyway what d’you know? Cupid was already stringing his bow.’

‘With nothing to go on,’ jabbered Bugg, ‘what were you doing to find the blackmailer?’

I smiled and lifted my hands. ‘That’s a pro secret. One day I’ll let you check out my Procedures Manual. When I’m retired maybe.’

‘Had you found anything?’ asked Hobbs, impatiently.

‘Bo Diddly and Dick Squat were the sum total of my investigations. But I’d only just started, you know?’