Free The Flesh Tailor by Kate Ellis

pointed to the keys. ‘Trying to locate the key to that door at the end of the attic. Do you
     mind if I take these up and try them in the lock?’
    ‘Help yourself,’ she said with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘If you do get it open I expect you’ll only find the usual mixture
     of crap and junk in there.’
    Neil looked out of the kitchen window and saw a familiar battered van pulling up outside. His colleagues were finally here.
    ‘Mind if I do this later? The others have just arrived so I’d better go and unload the equipment from my car.’ His eyes wandered
     longingly to the keys lying there, temptingly. But duty called.
    ‘James Dalcott had a woman – a nurse at the practice – but he still kept calling Roz every five minutes. When she told him
     she was expecting, it seemed to get worse. Couldn’t let her go. Fucking nuisance he was.’ Harry Parker sat back in the uncomfortable
     wooden seat, completely relaxed, making himself at home.
    ‘Where were you when he was killed?’ Wesley asked.
    ‘I told that rather nice blonde detective sergeant everything I know. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.’
    Gerry Heffernan leaned forward, an unpleasant grin onhis face. ‘Oh, we policemen always like things repeated. It must be the food in the canteen, kills the brain cells and knackers
     our short-term memory.’ He paused and looked the man in the eye. ‘But you’ll know all about police questioning, won’t you,
     Mr Parker?’
    Harry Parker opened his mouth to speak then closed it again.
    ‘We know about your record.’
    ‘That’s in the past. I’ve put all that behind me,’ Parker said, avoiding Gerry’s piercing gaze.
    ‘Robbery, burglary and threatening behaviour.’
    ‘I was young and stupid. And that spell inside taught me a lesson.’
    ‘Some say prison just makes you a better criminal – that it’s a university for the thieving classes.’
    ‘In some cases maybe, but not in mine. When I came out I swore I was never going in there again.’ He paused and looked Wesley
     in the eye, as if he judged him to be the more sympathetic of the pair. ‘But I have got prison to thank for my choice of career.
     Had a brilliant art teacher in there who recognised my talents and kept in touch when I got out. Pointed me in the right direction.’
    Gerry Heffernan gave him a threatening smile. ‘That’s very touching. But I bet it wasn’t the only thing you learned inside.
     I bet you met some contacts in there. The sort of contacts who can get hold of a firearm at knockdown prices.’
    ‘I don’t know anyone like that.’
    Gerry pushed his seat back and the legs scraped against the floor, a sound that put Wesley’s teeth on edge. ‘Only mix with
     the Vicar and the Mothers’ Union now, do you? Bet you do charity work and all.’
    ‘I did donate one of my pictures to a raffle for the local hospice, yes.’
    Wesley saw Gerry looking at him. ‘Very nice, isn’t it, Inspector Peterson? Restores your faith in human nature.’
    There was a brown cardboard file on the table in front of Wesley. He opened it carefully and studied the sheets of paper inside,
     a frown of concentration on his face. Then he looked at the man sitting opposite him and smiled – more friendly than the DCI.
     He was playing ‘nice cop’ today. ‘Your conviction for aggravated burglary involved a firearm, Mr Parker. You were carrying
     a gun when you broke into the premises of a Mr Joseph Hyam. Mr Hyam was a jeweller, I believe.’
    There was no answer but Parker’s face had turned an unattractive shade of red.
    ‘You threatened Mr Hyam, didn’t you? You threatened him with a gun. Where did you get it?’
    ‘A mate. It wasn’t loaded. It was just meant to frighten him.’
    ‘But it does mean you are familiar with firearms. You’ve used them, er, professionally, as it were.’
    ‘I was eighteen. A stupid kid. Look, I’ve served my time, paid my debt to society or whatever you want to call it. I’m not