Mark Pearson - Death Row

‘Ambition, I guess.’

‘I’m not sure White City is the place for ambition,’ said Delaney.

‘It’s a start and I don’t plan to be here too long.’

‘Very wise. The sooner you and my brilliant constable get promoted out of here, the safer the public are going to be. Me, I’m just going to count out the days to my pension and settle into obscurity.’

Kate patted her belly pointedly. ‘Right. Well, I wouldn’t be getting too many ideas about early retirement, cowboy! You’ve got a few more years on the range yet.’

‘Yes, boss,’ said Delaney, pretending to be disappointed.

‘You’re not fooling anybody, sir,’ said Sally, amused.

‘Anyway, enough shop,’ said Bennett, finishing his pint. ‘It’s my round. Who’s for a refill?’

‘Not for me,’ said Sally.

‘Or me,’ said Kate.

‘I’m in,’ said Jack, draining the remaining two-thirds of his pint and holding his glass out to Bennett.

Bennett nodded approvingly. ‘You want a large shot of Jameson’s with that?’

Delaney threw him a quizzical look.

‘Your fame precedes you!’ said Bennett.

Delaney looked at Kate and shrugged. ‘Just the Guinness, thanks.’

Bennett handed the glasses over to the barmaid.

‘So where are you staying?’ Delaney asked him.

‘Got myself a little flat down in Shepherd’s Bush.’

‘Handy.’

‘Yeah, close enough, and there are enough fast-food takeaway outlets to keep a bachelor boy happy.’

‘Couple of nice boozers, too,’ said Delaney.

‘And that. Did some research.’

‘Very wise.’

‘And what about you, Jack? Where are you based?’

Kate slipped her arm through Delaney’s. ‘He’s just bought himself a nice little house in Belsize Park.’

Bennett whistled. ‘Belsize Park? Nice.’

Delaney shrugged. ‘If you like that sort of thing.’

‘Must have cost a pretty penny?’

Delaney shifted his feet a little uncomfortably. ‘I had some luck with investments.’

Bennett grinned. ‘I’ll take half your luck.’

‘Yeah, well, my wife died. So I sold the house we owned and rented a flat and I put the money together with the life insurance into some investments that did okay, and I pulled the cash back before the big downturn. So I really wouldn’t want to wish that kind of luck on you.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise.’

‘No reason you should,’ said Delaney.

Twenty minutes later and Bennett was clearly feeling at home. On first-name terms with the barmaid and flirting with Sally Cartwright. Delaney finished his third pint and turned to Kate. ‘You ready to go home?’

‘More than ready.’ She held her hand up to Sally and Bennett. ‘See you later.’

‘Bye,’ said Sally.

‘Thanks for the drink.’ Delaney nodded at Bennett.

‘ De nada .’

Kate and Delaney threaded their way through the noisy bar and headed for the door.

‘Did I say the wrong thing earlier, about his house and everything?’ Bennett asked Sally.

‘He’s just a little sensitive about his wife, is all. She was shot during an armed robbery.’

‘Really?’

‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it.’

‘I’m the new boy, remember.’

‘It happened some years back. There was an armed robbery at a petrol station. Jack and his wife just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.’

‘It happens. Especially in our job.’

‘I guess. This was off-duty, though. Jack tried to intervene, his wife got caught in the crossfire.’

‘Ouch. No wonder he’s a little sensitive.’

‘Exactly.’

‘They ever catch who did it?’

Sally shook her head. ‘No. They never did.’

‘Jack Delaney doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who lets sleeping dogs lie.’

‘He’s moved on.’

Bennett nodded thoughtfully. ‘I can well imagine that Kate Walker doesn’t take any shit, either.’

Sally laughed. ‘I’m not sure she’d put it like that herself, but you’re probably right.’

‘Anyway, enough about them. Let me get you a drink, young Constable Cartwright, and you can tell me all about yourself.’

Sally held up her glass. ‘I’ve had my quota. I’m driving, remember.’

Bennett flashed a grin. ‘Then you can have a fruit juice.’

Bennett turned round to the barmaid and held his empty glass aloft. ‘Any chance of some refreshment for an honest working man, darling?’

To Sally’s dismay the barmaid smiled back at him — she even detected a hint of a wink. Dear God, she thought to herself, just what we need, another bloody Jack Delaney.

*

Jack turned down the corner of a page of the book he was reading, Kate Mosse’s Labyrinth , and heard a sharp intake of breath. He turned his head to see Kate staring at him in disbelief from her side of the bed.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Just marking the page.’

‘Well, don’t do it like that! Use a bookmark or a slip of paper.’

‘It’s only a paperback book, Kate. It’s not an illustrated gospel from Lindisfarne.’

‘It’s my book. So don’t do it again.’

Delaney straightened out the corner of the page he had folded, picked up a petrol receipt from the bedside cabinet and slid it between the pages, making a great display of closing the book gently.

‘Is that better?’ he asked.

‘Much better. You treat your own trashy paperbacks how you like, but my books command respect.’

‘You saying I dissed the Mosse?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’ Kate had a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, and she peered reprovingly over the top of them at Delaney.

‘You look just like the librarian at my old school, you know.’

‘Charming.’

‘It’s a compliment. All the boys fancied her.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, yeah. Miss Williams. Very sexy. Very strict.’

‘I’ll give you strict if you don’t watch out.’

Delaney snaked a hand towards her chest. ‘Is that a promise?’

Kate slapped his hand away. ‘Jack, behave yourself!’

Jack grinned and put his hand under the covers. He looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. ‘I need my goodnight kiss.’

Kate sat up a little straighter as Jack’s exploring hand found its target. She smiled and folded the corner of a page of the paperback she was reading and put it down on the matching bedside cabinet.

Delaney threw her his own look of disbelief. ‘Oi!’

Kate flapped a dismissive hand. ‘That’s a trashy crime novel. It doesn’t count.’

She snuggled up to him, pulling a mock-stern expression. ‘Now then, young man, you were late bringing back that copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover . What are we going to do about that?’

Jack moved his hand again and Kate smiled, breathing huskily in his ear.

‘Now that … is a good start.’

*

Black clouds hung low over the Thames, completely blanketing the moon and turning the water below into dark, impenetrable ink.

The minute hand clicked and shuddered twelve on the clock tower of the Palace of Westminster, and the sound of its historical bell, Big Ben, sounded. As it did so white flashes of light speared through the clouds, thunder cracked and low rumblings spread out like ripples of sound. But miraculously there was no rain.

*

Some twelve miles or so west of Westminster, in Harrow on the Hill, most people were in their beds and already sleeping. In the town centre a few pubs were still open and the youth of the area were singing, dancing, falling in love or settling disagreements with fists or broken bottles. But in one residential side street, a scant mile or so away from the hustle and bustle, away from the street lamps, the lights were all off, save for one solitary building where the multicoloured lights shone forth like a Christmas card.