Free The Blue Notes by J. J. Salkeld Page B

wearing her pyjamas or just her comfy evening clothes. For the first time it occurred to him that she normally wore clothes that showed off, rather than hid, her figure. It made him a bit uncomfortable to be standing there, as if he’d crossed a line, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she smiled.
    ‘Evening, Henry. I take it this isn’t a social call?’
    ‘No. Something’s happened, and I wanted to…’
    ‘Talk about it outside work? Sure, come in. Can I get you a drink?’
    ‘No, I’m fine, ta.’
    He followed her into the living room, which looked as if it would be neat and tidy if it wasn’t shared with a six-year old.
    ‘Sorry about the toys’, she said, ‘and sit yourself down. Now, what’s all this about? You’re not even on duty tonight, are you?’
     
    Armstrong told her, and Pepper said ‘fuck’ occasionally, indicating everything from mild surprise to amusement, and on to genuine concern. But she was smiling by the time that Henry was finished.
    ‘He’s quite a boy, that Davey, isn’t he?’, she said.
    ‘You could say that. But did I do right, Pepper?’
     
    She waved the question away as if he’d asked entirely the wrong one to ask. ‘Aye, you did right. Not legally, like, so you need to write all this up in your notebook, including coming here, tonight. I’ll do the same. But you met him outside the foodbank, yeah, and the rest is only guess work. He never admitted to belting those two wankers of Dai’s, did he?’
    ‘No, he didn’t.’
    ‘Fine, then we’re golden. You had no reason to detain him, and you came round here because you suspect a link to Dai Young’s operation, OK?’
    ‘Got you, thanks.’
    ‘But Hood’s really in the shit, isn’t he? He said they recognised him?’
    ‘Aye, he did.’
    ‘Bollocks. Dai’s going to go absolutely mental when he finds out about this.’
    ‘What should we do?’
    ‘I’m not sure. Officially, nothing, probably. But that’s why you’re round here at this time of night, isn’t it? I tell you what, Henry. You leave it with me. I’ll think on, and we’ll discuss it after the weekend, OK?’
    ‘But what if something happens to Hood between now and then? Aren’t you worried about that, Pepper?’
    ‘Davey Hood’s a big boy, Henry. And I’ve got a feeling that he’s more than capable of looking after himself, if it comes to that, like.’

Monday, April 13th.
    CID office, Carlisle Police HQ, 9.12am
     
    The WPC who’d actually brought Rob Birkett in was waiting in the interview room when Rex Copeland walked in. They’d chatted a couple of times on work nights out over the past month or two, and Rex welcomed the opportunity to show off a bit in front of her. Not that Birkett would exactly stretch him, and WPC Bentley would know that already. Because not only did his record show that he was an utterly incompetent thief when sober, and an epically bad one pissed, but his appearance that day told the self same story. It wasn’t whether or not he’d slept in his clothes, merely how long he’d been sleeping in them for.
     
    ‘Do you know what you’re here for, Rob?’ asked Copeland, slowly. Experience had taught him to always start with the easy ones, when suspects looked and smelt like this.
    ‘You what?’ said Birkett.
    ‘Do you know why you’re here?’
    ‘Oh, aye, you’ll be fitting me up with a few of your burglaries, like. Go on then, tell me which ones I did, like.’
    ‘We don’t do that, Rob. We need to ask you about a burglary that took place a week ago, on that new estate near where you live.’
    ‘Oh, aye?’
    ‘Yeah. The show home got broken into. Do you know anything about that?’
    ‘No. And you can’t prove a fucking thing. You see, if I did go out on the rob, not that I did, but if I did, I’d wear gloves, see.’ Burkett looked at WPC Bentley as proudly as if he’d just discovered a whole new continent, just slightly to the left of Australia.
    ‘That’s very sensible of you, Rob.