Philip Kerr - January Window

‘She wanted someone to go shopping with after a week at work. Stuff like that. A Saturday and a Sunday with newspapers, which doesn’t include football.’

‘And now you want to bring on a substitute. Is that it?’ Louise shrugged. ‘Well, why not? I’m cool with that, I suppose. Just as long as this isn’t a friends with benefits sort of thing.’

‘You’re hardly a friend,’ I said. ‘Besides, I already told you — I don’t much like the police.’

She smiled a big smile. ‘How’s that working out?’

‘For some reason I seem to be getting over it.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it.’

‘And now I feel I really do owe you an apology.’

‘For what?’

‘Because I may have misled you. I wasn’t actually taking you to my flat in Chelsea at all.’

‘Oh. I see.’

She sounded disappointed, which left me feeling pleased. I snatched up her hand and kissed it.

‘No, you don’t. Not yet. I’d like you to spend the night with me very much indeed, Louise. I can think of nothing nicer. And I sincerely hope you will. At the earliest opportunity. But the fact is, I’ve been investigating Zarco’s death myself; and right now I’m taking you to meet the person who I think killed him. So that you can get the collar and the credit.’

Louise took her hand away and put it to her mouth. ‘You’re joking.’

‘No, I’m not. I’ve thought about almost nothing else but Zarco’s death since Saturday night and now I’m confident that I’ve found the culprit.’

She turned in the passenger seat and let out a gasp. ‘Oh my God, you are serious, aren’t you? Jesus, Scott. Are you sure you know what the fuck you’re doing?’

I told her a small part of what I now knew; she didn’t need to know about the bung and about the inside share deal; there was only part of the story she needed to know about now.

‘That does sound fairly convincing,’ she admitted. ‘And now I’m sort of embarrassed.’

‘Why?’

‘You’ve done my job, that’s why. How would you feel if I did your job?’

‘Anyone can do my job. Being a football manager is just selecting the best eggs.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Look, don’t you want the collar? This will be a big feather in your cap, I’d have thought.’

‘Well, yes. Of course. But—’

‘I’d much prefer you to get the credit than the bitch you’re working for. I’d rather not tell anyone than tell her.’

‘Jane Byrne? Yes, she is a bit of a bitch, isn’t she? But you know I really should inform her of what’s happening. Otherwise she’s going to have my guts.’

‘Why don’t you wait until we’ve confirmed my suspicions? You can tell her you didn’t know what I was going to do until I’d done it. That you had no choice but to wait for me to make my play.’

She thought for a moment and then nodded. ‘All right. You’re the manager.’

‘Besides, you owe me this after the way you handled telling me that it was Drenno’s friend Mackie who raped Mrs Fehmiu.’

‘That’s true.’ She winced. ‘Shit.’

‘What?’

‘It looks like I’m working tonight after all.’

I grinned at her. ‘Did you have other plans?’

‘I did when I got into this car. Now they’ll have to wait. It’s disappointing.’

‘That’s how I feel about it, too.’

‘Good. I’m glad.’

‘But I have to see this all the way through. For Zarco’s sake.’

‘Don’t worry. I understand all that. But you’re going to have to make this up to me.’

‘How?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that.’ She nodded. ‘Yes. When this is all over, I’d like you to take me to your lovely flat and do whatever you like to me for twenty-four hours. I would say forty-eight hours, but I know you’ve got an away game against Everton on Saturday.’

‘That’s quite an invitation, Louise.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’

‘Anything?’

‘Anything at all.’

‘Christ,’ I said. ‘No one has ever said anything like that to me.’

I turned down a side street and stopped the car.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked. ‘Why have you stopped?’

‘I’m a bit old-fashioned,’ I said. ‘I can’t think about doing anything until I’ve kissed you.’

‘Neither can I,’ she said and then let herself be kissed; she even allowed my hand up her skirt.

‘Put your finger inside me,’ she said after a while. ‘Every time you touch your face I want you to know exactly what you missed having tonight.’

I pulled up outside Toyah Zarco’s big white house in Warwick Square and turned off the ignition. The car’s engine pinged like a pinball machine and the trees in the communal gardens shifted uneasily in the breeze. The policeman still on duty outside Toyah’s front door eyed us patiently. In his thick coat and protective vest his body looked too big for his legs; he might have made a good goalkeeper. The press had cleared off; somewhere else there was probably another widow in tears they wanted to film and harass with questions. A man walking his dog hauled the animal away from the tyres of my car before it could piss on them. The light from the full moon shone on a neat row of Boris bikes in front of the nearby church; it looked like a series of fitness machines in some weird, twenty-four-hour gym, as if the stained-glass window of Saint whatever-it-was might at any moment turn into a giant television set. But the church reminded me that I was going to Drenno’s funeral on Friday and that I was dreading it.

‘Do Drenno’s family know what Mackie did?’ I asked. ‘And that Drenno helped cover it up?’

‘No,’ said Louise. ‘Not yet.’

‘Let’s leave it that way, can we?’ I asked. ‘At least until after the funeral.’

She nodded.

‘Thanks.’

‘This feels weird,’ she said.

‘Why?’

‘It feels weird that it’s you who’s going to try to get a confession and not me.’

‘Relax. I already got a result tonight. I’m in the groove. Besides, I’m hoping I won’t have to say very much at all. That copper standing behind us should give us all the leverage I’m looking for.’

‘Just be careful. That’s all I want to say. This isn’t a game.’

‘What, and you think football is? After a match like the one you just saw you should know better than that.’

‘Maybe you’re right. What do you want me to do?’

‘You’ve got your ID?’

‘Of course.’

‘Just flash that copper your badge and put him under your command. I’m hoping you’ll do the same when you come to my flat. I like dominant women.’

We got out of the car and walked up to the policeman. Frankly, he looked pleased to see us, like a dog that has been left for too long outside a supermarket.

‘Evening, sir,’ he said. ‘Good result tonight. Mr Zarco would have been very proud.’

I’d forgotten the copper was a City fan. That was handy. ‘Thanks, Constable,’ I said. ‘I think he would.’

‘5–3. I just hope my Sky Plus was working.’

‘Let me know if it doesn’t and I’ll send you a DVD.’ I gave him my card; I was softening in my old age. I figured it was the effect that Louise Considine was having on me; she was living proof that not all coppers were bastards. Maybe there was still hope for me to become a decent, law-abiding member of society.

She showed him her ID. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Considine,’ she said, ‘from Brent CID. What’s your name?’

‘Constable Harrison, ma’am. From Belgravia Police Station.’

‘You wouldn’t have thought they needed one in Belgravia,’ I said.

‘I need your help, Constable,’ said Louise. ‘Will you come with us, please?’