Free How the Dead Live (Factory 3) by Derek Raymond

It’s your case now, so why don’t you just get up there and dig up what you want to know?’
    ‘Let’s hope no digging will be necessary,’ I said, ‘as much for your sake as anyone else’s.’
    ‘You can work on your bloody own!’
    ‘I’m going to,’ I said. ‘I’m used to working on my own – in fact, I like it that way. I’ll put it all together, you’ll see.’ I stood up. ‘And thank you for all your help.’
    ‘The reason you’ve not had much help from me,’ he said, ‘is that I don’t like you.’
    ‘Most people don’t,’ I said, ‘but I don’t think that’s the reason at all.’ I turned at the door and said: ‘I believe that this woman is dead and, if it turns out that she is, your pension will add up to a bag of rotten nuts and it could go bluer than that. No, don’t get up, Inspector.’
    He hadn’t, and didn’t. He didn’t say or do anything. He didn’t look at me even.
    I went to my car, which was on the yellow line where I had parked it the night before. The squad car, with the same two specialists in it, was also parked there.
    I waved to them cheerily; but they didn’t wave back.

8
     
    I got back to the hotel and rang the voice.
    ‘I want a bank account checked.’
    ‘Whose bank account?’
    ‘Inspector Kedward’s.’
    ‘Oh Christ,’ groaned the voice, ‘don’t tell me you’ve got up his nose already.’
    ‘I’ll get further up than his nose,’ I said, ‘I’ll get up into his brains and make them yelp.’
    ‘Why didn’t you get on with him?’
    ‘We got on like newly-weds,’ I said, ‘I don’t think.’
    ‘Ended in early divorce, did it?’ said the voice. ‘I might have known. What have you made of it so far? Have you seen this man Mardy yet?’
    ‘Look, I only got down here last night,’ I said. ‘No, I haven’t seen Mardy yet. There’s no rush over Mardy for an hour or two; he isn’t going to run away. No, I tell you, I’ve been busy with Kedward; I find him very interesting.’
    ‘What does interesting mean?’
    ‘You know what it means,’ I said, ‘it means bent. I want his bank statements checked out right over the last twelve months.’
    ‘You really are a dreadful man,’ said the voice, ‘cheeky and self-opinionated. I send you down to look into the business of a missing woman – no, you pin this inspector to a card instead.’
    ‘It’s a pity you weren’t with me when I saw him just now.’
    ‘What would that have told me?’
    ‘I keep telling you,’ I said patiently, ‘it would have told you that he was bent. Bent, crooked, not straight, as bent as an old banger’s front bumper.’
    ‘He’s the law in that town. What’s he got to hide?’
    ‘I don’t know, but I’ll find out.’ I sighed audibly into the phone. ‘Now can I have his bank statements checked, please?’
    ‘Wait a minute,’ said the voice uneasily, ‘you just look out what you’re doing, Sergeant. You’re not noted for tact.’
    ‘There’s no point being tactful with villains,’ I said. I described the interview I had had with Kedward and in the end even the voice saw what I was driving at. ‘He’s a nice loose thread to tug on to start with,’ I said, ‘so I’m going to give him a good hard tug.’
    ‘You mind what you’re doing,’ said the voice even more nervously. ‘You tug a corrupt police officer out of all this – well, you know what the press are like.’
    ‘You handle all that side of it,’ I said.
    ‘Indeed I will, Sergeant.’
    ‘All the same,’ I said, ‘whichever way you look at it, if he’s in there he’s in there, being corrupt.’
    ‘I’ll agree about this much,’ said the voice, ‘I find Kedward’s attitude to this Mrs Mardy incomprehensible. Why, when I was on the CID myself—’
    ‘Oh, not incomprehensible,’ I said. ‘There’s a perfectly good reason for it; Kedward’s no fool. It’s just a question of finding out what reason, and you can be sure money comes into it somewhere.’ I repeated: