Peter Lovesey: The Secret Hangman

Jerry was driven to Manvers Street and put through the process of fingerprinting and DNA testing. He spent the night in the cells in a zipper overall. The questioning wouldn’t start until next day.

The crime scene people sealed off the station roof ready for examination. Georgina, who had missed the main action, came out to the front to bond with Diamond on the success of the operation she had masterminded, but he had gone.

He was driving Paloma back to Lyncombe, answering her questions about what would happen to Jerry. After he’d explained each stage of the process, she said, ‘It’s kind of you to do this.’

‘I wasn’t going to send you home in a police car,’ he said. ‘What you did tonight took courage. You saved a man’s life.’

‘Not just me.’

‘Just you,’ he insisted. ‘I’d run through my repertoire. It was what you said that stopped another killing.’

They drove up Lyncombe Hill in silence, each in a hell of their own.

Outside the house he stopped and the engine idled and something needed to be said. It was Paloma who spoke. ‘I’m ashamed of myself. I was a scheming bitch, the way I used you. You gave me nothing but kindness.’

‘I’m not complaining,’ he said. ‘I understand your motives. Too bad I wasn’t the deterrent you hoped for.’

‘You’re more generous than I deserve.’

‘Not so. Meeting you was good for me. No regrets.’

He meant this. She’d befriended him under false pretences, but the friendship had grown into something real and worth preserving. He’d learned things about himself. He’d moved on. This wasn’t a time for looking back. She was going to need massive support in the weeks to come.

She opened the door on her side. ‘I guess it’s goodbye, then.’

He put his hand over hers. ‘It doesn’t have to be.’