Free A Death of Distinction by Marjorie Eccles Page A

like as two peas, slightly darker editions of their mother and dressed almost identically to her in jeans and T-shirts, with knowing little faces and gold sleepers – smaller versions of their mother’s earrings – in their ears, were doing what looked like homework on the table in the dining end of the living room.
    â€˜Go out and play,’ their mother ordered, ‘this won’t take long. Don’t forget your coats.’ They exchanged sulky looks, but after a silent debate, did as they were told, and presently could be seen, clad in shell-suit jackets in vivid fluorescent colours, rather desultorily bouncing a ball about on the front lawn. Smart wench, this, approved Kite, knew how to keep her kids in line, at any rate – he should be so lucky with his own lads. DC Farrar was thinking he wouldn’t have argued, either. Sharp-faced madam, Josie Davis, with a tongue to match.
    â€˜Dex? You mean Derek, I suppose? Well, I don’t know why you’ve come here!’ she bridled, taking a cigarette from a half-empty pack of Rothman’s King Size and snapping a lighter to it. ‘Think I’d have him back, after what he’s done?’
    â€˜Any idea where he is?’
    â€˜Should I have?’ she countered, dragging on the cigarette with hard, angry little puffs.
    â€˜If you don’t, I don’t know who would.’
    â€˜Why don’t you try his mother?’
    The two detectives exchanged glances, immediately realizing the mistake that had been made. ‘We should’ve known you’re too young to be his mother, love,’ Farrar said, favouring her with one of his knock-’em-in-the-aisles smiles.
    She gave him the once-over. Didn’t half fancy himself, this one. Though come to that, she might have fancied him, too, in other circumstances. She laughed. ‘What gave you that idea? If that nasty little sod had been mine, I’d have done something about him before he ended up where he did. I’m only his stepmother, thank God.’
    â€˜This was the address he gave his probation officer when he was released – where he said he was living.’
    â€˜What of it? He doesn’t have to report no more.’
    Kite was looking hard at Josie. He wasn’t as baby-faced as she’d thought, even if he did look like he couldn’t hardly knock the skin off a rice pudding. Sergeant then, was he? After a moment, she shrugged.
    â€˜Well, he did come here, then. It was his dad let him, not me. Stopped for a bit, and that was enough for all of us, even Barry. He didn’t like the discipline and we didn’t like him, know what I mean?’
    Kite nodded. The picture was clear enough. ‘Where’s your husband – Barry, is it?’
    â€˜What d’you want him for? He can’t tell you no more than me.’
    â€˜He’s Dex’s dad, isn’t he? He might’ve told him where he was going.’
    â€˜Pigs might fly! And I don’t want you bothering Barry, specially at work. They don’t like coppers snooping around down the garage ... Why can’t you leave us alone? What d’you want to come bothering us for, just when we’ve got our lives sorted!’
    Taking in the puffy, beflowered three-piece suite, the state-of-the-art music centre, the twenty-seven-inch telly, the frilly Austrian blinds, Farrar said, ‘Down the garage? Which one?’
    â€˜If I told you, you’d know, wouldn’t you?’
    â€˜Come on, sweetheart, give us a break.’
    â€˜Don’t you sweetheart me!’ She stubbed out her cigarette. ‘Tell you what, though. I can give you her address – his mother’s – yeah, you go and pester her. Not that he’ll have gone to that cow if he’d any sense.’
    When they’d gone, she picked up and dialled. ‘Barry? Guess who I’ve just had here. Yeah, they’re on to him – what have you two been up to, the pair of