Free Cut Short by Leigh Russell Page B

black eye, Johnny? Was that an accident too?'
      'She fell over,' Drew repeated stubbornly, his temper under control again. 'Look,' he said, sitting up suddenly. 'So there was maybe the odd time I raised my hand to her. But not as often as she'd have liked. She asked for it. I'm only human.' He appealed to Peterson. 'Don't tell me you've never been provoked, Sergeant? You know how a woman can get you all worked up. And Angie knew how to aggravate. It wasn't like she didn't know exactly what she was doing. She knew what was coming, but she never let up. I'd warn her.' He shrugged. 'Don't ask me why she kept on at me. You know how it is, Sergeant. What's a man to do? Then it'd be all tears and snuffling and apologies.' He didn't clarify who had apologised to whom and for what. The solicitor whispered in Drew's ear and the suspect nodded and shut up.
      Geraldine glanced down at the report from Rotherhithe. The local CID had traced Angela's mother. Mrs Phelps no longer had any contact with her daughter. At fifteen, Angela Waters had run away from home when her mother remarried. Mrs Phelps had no idea where her daughter was living, and didn't care. It was a squalid but familiar story. Angela's father was an alcoholic who used to beat his wife and small daughter viciously. He'd made no attempt to find them when his wife had packed up and left and they'd never heard from him again. After that, Mandy Phelps had drifted from one violent partner to another.
      'We heard you argued a lot with Angela,' Peterson said.
      'Who? Me and Ange?' Drew threw back his head and laughed. 'Don't give me that. Where did you hear that then? From the neighbours? Those walls are thin as paper. What did they hear then? What specifically did they hear? Interfering bastards. Ought to mind their own fucking business.' There was a pause. He seemed to have regained his confidence. 'No one heard me and Ange arguing. Couldn't have. She had a really quiet voice. No one told you that, did they?' He snorted. 'They couldn't say for sure it was me and Ange, could they?' He glanced at the solicitor sitting silently at his side. 'What they heard was shouting off the telly, that's what. She used to love her soaps, Ange did. That must be what they heard. We never argued. Not me and Ange. She wouldn't argue. Wasn't her style. You didn't know her.'
      'She wouldn't answer back in case she got a beating?'
      Drew glanced at his brief again. 'I never beat her, right? Like I told you, maybe a bit of a slap now and again, when she asked for it. That's all. Some women like a man to be in charge, you know what I mean. But she wouldn't have stuck with me if she didn't like it. Stands to reason.'
      'Only it got a bit out of hand, that last time, didn't it, Johnny?' the sergeant persisted, getting nowhere.
      Drew was all arrogance again. 'What are you on about now? You know you've got nothing on me. Nothing better to do than harass an innocent bloke who's lost his girlfriend. Kick a man when he's down, why don't you? How's that for abuse?' The lawyer sat mute. Drew turned his attention back to Peterson. 'This is harassment. I ought to complain about you, Detective Sergeant.'
      'You went too far, didn't you?' Peterson pressed on. Geraldine could hear the exasperation in his voice but Drew was a cool customer. 'It was more than just a slap wasn't it? You didn't mean to kill her, did you? What happened, Johnny? Did she struggle? Fight back this time? Enough to provoke anyone, isn't it?'
      Drew stood up suddenly. 'I've had enough of your fucking crap, Sergeant. Are you going to charge me or what? I told you, I was working on Wednesday. Ask anyone. There's no way I touched her. You're barking up the wrong tree, and it's doing my head in. You should be out there, looking for the bastard that killed her, not hassling me.'
      'Why did you do it, Johnny?' Peterson asked.
      'I keep telling you, I never done it.' Drew rolled his eyes.
      ' WHY ?' Geraldine