Rafferty nodded slowly. ‘Paul Keane.’
‘Yeah, Paul fucking Keane.’ Talbot downed what was left in his glass.
‘Was it true? About you beating him up during questioning?’
‘Her fucking allegations got me suspended for two weeks, didn’t they? Her and her “sources”. Maybe I did rough him up a bit, but I’ll tell you something, I wasn’t the only copper who did.’
‘He did some kids, didn’t he?’
‘Three of them. The fucking nonce. He raped two five-year-old girls and sodomised a three-year-old boy. Whatever he got, the bastard had it coming.’
Talbot pushed away his empty glass. ‘Three years old, can you imagine that?
Jesus.’ He sucked in an angry breath. ‘But that bitch cried “police brutality”
and splashed it all over the front of her fucking rag and there was an investigation.’
‘No charges were ever made against you though,’ Rafferty offered.
“That’s not the point,’ Talbot hissed. ‘She crucified me. She could have ruined my career, and do you know who her source was? Keane’s solicitor. He was more bent than his client. Keane nearly got off because of what she wrote.
He could have been walking the streets now because of her. Newspapers.
Wrapping up fish and chips or wiping your arse, that’s all they’re any good for. All of them.’
He looked down at Rafferty’s empty glass. ‘Another?’ he asked.
‘I’ve got to get off, Jim,’ the DS said, getting to his feet.
‘When are you expecting the autopsy results on Hyde?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘And you still reckon it was suicide?’
Talbot nodded.
‘I don’t know how anyone can do that’ Rafferty said. ‘Kill themselves. I mean, they reckon it’s a coward’s way out, but I reckon you need a lot of guts to top yourself. How could things ever get so bad you’d want to end your own life?’
Talbot shrugged. ‘It could happen to any of us,’ he said, quietly.
‘Not me,’ Rafferty said, heading for the door. ‘I’ve got too much to live for.’ He chuckled. ‘See you tomorrow.’
And he was gone.
Talbot waited a moment then returned to the bar and ordered another Jameson’s.
The woman with the finely chiselled cheekbones was still there, only now she was talking animatedly with a man slightly younger than Talbot. She didn’t even see him this time as he passed her. As he sat back down he could hear her laughter, even over the jukebox.
Talbot glanced at his watch.
It was too early to go home.
Besides, there was nothing there for him anyway.
He sipped at his drink.
‘Too much to live for.’ he murmured, remembering Rafferty’s words. The DI raised one eyebrow. ‘You’re lucky.’
He swallowed some more whiskey, the smell mingling with the stale odour of cigarette smoke.
He’d have another after this.
Maybe two.
It would take that before he could face the trip home.
Seven
Catherine Reed rolled onto her back, her chest heaving, her breath coming in deep, racking gasps.
‘Jesus.’ she murmured, trying to slow her breathing.
Beside her, Phillip Cross was also trying to get his breath back. He reached across to the bedside table and retrieved the can of Carlsberg there, taking a swig, wincing when he tasted warm beer.
‘Can I have some of that?’ Cath asked, taking the can from him.
‘It’s warm.’ he told her. ‘I’ll go and get us a couple more.’
She too sipped at the lukewarm fluid, watching as Cross swung himself out of bed and walked naked across the room.
Cute arse.
She smiled to herself, stretching her long legs, then bending them, clasping her hands around her knees as if she were preparing for some kind of exercise routine.
Cross looked back at her and grinned.
‘I thought you were going to get the beers.’ she said, looking at him, framed in the doorway.
He nodded and disappeared through into the sitting room. She heard rattling around by the fridge in the kitchen and, moments later, he returned and sat down on the bed beside her, holding out a cold can for her. As she went to take it he pressed it to her left breast, rubbing her already stiff nipple with the cold metal.
She yelped and slapped his shoulder, chuckling.
At thirty, Cross was two years her junior, but his face was heavily lined for one so young. Cath was aware of lines on her own face, but around the eyes she preferred to call them laughter lines. It was as good a euphemism as she could think of.
‘Do you think anyone at the office knows about us?’ Cross said, taking a sip of his drink.
She lay back, stretching her legs again, admiring their shape herself.
Cross ran a hand along her right calf and thigh, stroking the smooth flesh there.
‘I doubt it, we’ve been pretty discreet. Besides, nobody gives a shit. They’re too concerned with their own lives or how to fill the paper. Nobody cares about what we’re doing.’
‘What about you?’ he said, looking into her green eyes. ‘Do you care?’
‘Phil, don’t start this again,’ she said, smiling.
‘It’s not funny,’ he snapped.
‘I’m not laughing, am I?’
‘You smiled.’
‘What do you want me to do? Break down in tears?’ she swigged her beer. ‘Look, what we do together is fun, right? I enjoy being with you, but it’s not a big romance.’
‘Is that because you don’t want it to be?’
‘Can we save the big inquests for some other time, please?’
‘We just finished making love, I think that’s a fair enough time to ask about feelings, isn’t it?’
‘Phil, we just finished fucking,’ she smiled and touched his cheek. ‘There is a difference.’
Cross looked at her with accusing eyes. ‘You can be a right bitch sometimes,’
he said, acidly.
‘Sorry,’ she said, shrugging, taking a sip from the can. ‘I just don’t want you getting carried away with what’s going on between us.’
‘According to you, there’s not much to get carried away with anyway.’
Cath took one last sip of beer then clambered off the bed, pulling on her leggings.
‘What are you doing?’ Cross demanded.
‘Getting dressed. I’m going home.’
‘I thought you were staying the night.’
‘I didn’t say that, did I?’ she retorted, pulling on a denim shirt and fastening it.
‘I just thought…’
She kissed him on the forehead.
‘You think too much,’ she said, pushing her feet into her trainers.
He pulled on his jeans and followed her through into the sitting room, watching as she gathered up her handbag and jacket, checking in the pocket for her car keys.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ she said, kissing him lightly on the lips.
Cross pulled her more tightly to him, easing his tongue past the soft flesh, happy when she responded.
‘You’re a pain in the arse.’ he said, attempting a smile. ‘No wonder that copper at Euston got so uptight when he saw you.’
She nodded.
‘I suppose he had his reasons,’ she said dismissively, then turned and headed towards the hall. ‘I can find my own way out, Phil, and
besides …’ she nodded towards his crotch, ‘you don’t want to frighten the neighbours, do you?’ She giggled.
Cross looked down to see that his flies were undone.
As he hurried to zip them up, Cath stepped out.
He heard the door close behind her.
The photographer stood alone for a moment then sat down on the edge of the sofa, running both hands through his hair.