John Harvey - Living Proof

"I'll try."

Mollie raised a hand, fingers spread, and turned towards the doors.

By the time she had walked from sight, Resnick was standing by the lifts, watching the numbers descend.

When Resnick got out of the lift on Cathy Jordan's floor, Frank Carlucci was waiting to get in. The two men exchanged cursory nods before Frank, hands in pockets and ample shoulders hunched, stepped inside and the doors closed behind him.

Cathy opened the door on Resnick's first knock and was surprised to see him standing there and not Frank.

"Sorry. Figured you for the penitent husband, back to crave forgiveness."

"Does he have something to be forgiven for?"

Cathy's mouth turned upwards into a smile.

"Don't we all? And wouldn't life be a deadly bore if we did not?" She moved aside to let Resnick enter.

"But in Frank's case, this particular case, I have no idea." She shrugged.

"Going on his track record, I'm prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Innocent as charged."

Cathy grinned.

"Guilty."

"Marius likewise."

"He owned up?"

Resnick nodded.

"The letters as well?"

"Yes."

Cathy's fist punched the air.

"The bastard! The snivelling lousy bastard!"

"He got a friend in the States to send the letters for him; everything that happened over here was down to him. He swears he never had any intention of carrying any of it through. Just wanted to frighten you. shake you up; make you think about what you were doing."

"Frighten me?"

"Yes."

"The little shit!"

"As far as it's possible to tell, my guess is he's telling the truth.

It's difficult to see him as actually dangerous, more of a nuisance. "

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were building up to telling me you're about to let him go."

Resnick stood there looking at her.

"Jesus! You are! You're going to give him a friendly pat on the head and a warning. Be a good slime bag and don't do it again." She turned, shaking her head.

"I can't believe it. I can't lucking believe it!"

"Dorothy Birdwell insists she won't press charges. Also, she's paid to have the room set back to rights and the hotel's keen to avoid any adverse publicity."

Cathy's face was white with anger.

"Which just leaves 256 me, right? And who the fuck am I, that you should give a good goddamn?"

Resnick took a pace towards her, then a pace back. "Cathy," he said.

"What?"

"Whatever you decide to do, it's unlikely, given all the circumstances, that the GPS will recommend prosecution."

"Shit!" Cathy crossed the room to the whisky bottle, poured a stiff shot and carried it back with her to the set tee

"So what will happen to him? Exactly."

"Most likely, he'll be bound over not to repeat this or any other behaviour."

"And then he'll walk?"

Resnick nodded.

"Yes."

Cathy took one sip at her Scotch and then another. "Where is he now?

You've still got him in custody? "

"Yes, why?"

All energy, Cathy jumped to her feet.

"Fine. I want to see him."

"I don't know…"

"Come on, just see him, right? One final time. Tell him goodbye."

Resnick looked a long way short of convinced.

"Inspector… Charlie… Surely it's the least you can do? After all, I'm not exactly about to stick a knife in him, pull out a gun."

"I still don't know…"

"Please."

"All right. But just five minutes. No more. And I shall have to be there all the time."

Cathy smiled at him with sweetness dropped in acid. "But of course."

The police cells were full so Naylor had stuck Marius Gooding in one of the interview rooms and turned the key. ic'" " Half an hour," he had said.

"Forty-five minutes. Tops."

Marius had been there for not far short of three hours. Silent, a uniformed officer had brought him a cup of tea and a copy of a three-day-old Daily Mail, which Marius had read through several times, cover to cover.

When Resnick entered, he was quickly on his feet, a protest forming on his lips; then, when he saw who was with him, he remained silent.

"Hello, Marius," Cathy Jordan said, not halting until she was an arm's length away.

"Been treating you okay, have they?"

Marius looked at her, eyes refusing to focus; Resnick had remained near the door and was picking at something that seemed to have lodged on the cuff of his shirt.

"I just wanted to see what you looked like, remember you, in case there was any chance I might have the misfortune of running into you again. And to thank you. No, really, I mean it. Thank you for showing me how low a piece of phlegm like you can go. Exciting, though, was it, Marius? Give you a little hard-on? Thinking up all that stuff in those letters you sent me. Writing about it. What had happened to those women. Those kids." A fleck of spittle had landed on Cathy's chin and with the back of a hand she wiped it away.

"Must have known those books of mine pretty well, Marius, to quote them so well. So accurately."

Marius didn't want to look at her, but he wasn't able to look away.

"Might make a point of asking your therapist about that, your fascination with all those nasty incidents you profess to hate. That is, after you talk to him about your mother, your relationship with her."

He flinched as if he had been struck and clenched both hands fast by his sides.

"Got to be something there, right? Explain this thing you've got for old women."

"Cathy," Resnick said, moving forward.

"I think that's enough."

"No," shaking her head.

"No, it's not nearly enough."

Lightly, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll have to do."

She tilted her head towards him and smiled.

"Okay. Okay, Marius. No hard feelings, maybe. Well, not too many. And I do hope, whoever the shrink is you go to see, he can help you sort yourself out."

She looked at him and the first vestiges of a grateful smile appeared at the edges of Marius's eyes.

"Here," Cathy said softly.

"Have this to remember me by." And, with a fast swing of the arm, she hit him hard across the face and he rocked backwards, the ring on her finger opening a cut deep below his eye.

Resnick grabbed her but she was already stepping away.

"Well," she said, 'let's see if your DPP or whatever it is, reckons it's worth prosecuting me for that. "

Releasing her, Resnick pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Marius to hold against his face. Then he opened the door and called along the corridor for someone to administer first aid.

Cathy paused in the doorway.

"Then there's a tooth for a tooth, Marius. You remember that one, don't you?"

They stood on the steps outside the police station, watching the traffic playing ducks and drakes with the traffic lights around Canning Circus.

"I tricked you," Cathy saaid.

"For that, I'm sorry."

"You had that in your mind all the time?"

"Pretty much."

"I should have known."

Quickly, she glanced at him.

"Maybe you did."

Resnick didn't reply.

A pair of uniformed officers exited behind them and walked around the corner to the official car park.

Cathy offered Resnick her hand and he took it in a firm grip.

"That book of mine," Cathy said, 'if you ever finish it, you could always drop me a line, let me know what you think. "

"Of course."

They both knew, whatever his intentions, he most probably would not.

Cathy gave him her card regardless and he slipped it down into the top pocket of his coat.

"See you then."

"Yes, see you."

For some minutes he stood and watched her go, a tall woman with cropped red hair, wearing a red silk shirt, blue jeans and heeled boots, walking away.

At a little short of nine the next morning, Sarah Farleigh was sitting in Resnick's office, black leather handbag resting in her lap. She was wearing a black suit that looked new, hemline stretched across her knees.