Free Maxwell's Point by M.J. Trow Page B

wasn’t a very good Joanna Lumley. ‘He was pawing some tart, as usual. I threw my drink in his face.’
    ‘One for the ladies, was he?’ Benny asked.
    ‘You show me a man who isn’t,’ Annie scowled, looking Benny up and down. ‘Unless they’re poofs, of course. Well, that was why we split in the first place. He couldn’t keep his hands to hisself. Turns out, he gave my bridesmaid one on our bloody wedding day. Well, the joke’s on him now, ain’t it?’
    Perhaps; but nobody was laughing.
    ‘Tell me, Annie,’ Jacquie leaned towards her. ‘Did David own a crucifix? A silver necklace thing?’
    ‘Not when we was together, no. But he was always into bling. Like a fucking magpie.’
    ‘So…’ Jacquie was choosing her words. ‘If we asked you to think of anybody who’d want to see David dead…?’
    Annie looked at her. ‘You’re sure it was murder?’ she asked. Jacquie hadn’t actually said the word, but she nodded anyway.
    ‘Well,’ the ex-wife inhaled sharply, ‘me, for starters. I’d have cheerfully strangled the bastard.’
    For one of those instants, time stood still. Even Annie’s smoke seemed to hang in the air. Jacquie stole a sideways glance at Benny. ‘I didn’t tell you how he died, Annie,’ she said.
    The straw-haired woman looked at her, sitting up suddenly. ‘Is that it?’ she laughed, brittle and with realisation dawning of what was going on. ‘Is that how he died? Somebody strangled him?’
    Jacquie nodded. ‘It looks that way,’ she said. ‘Annie. We’ll need to take a statement from you.’
    ‘I’m not coming to Leighford,’ Annie snapped.
    ‘No need,’ Jacquie said. ‘We can do it here. Now, if you’ve got a minute. Is there anybody else?’ she asked. ‘Anybody else who had a grudge against David?’
    Annie thought for a moment, fingers twitching around her cigarette. ‘Dave was into all sorts. Got a record as long as your bloody arm. There was a few blokes he pissed off now and then, in the line of booty, you might say – and that’s not one of mine, by the way, but one of his. Always thought he was a clever bastard, did our David. Any one of them might have given him the smacking he so richly deserved. Your oppos down Winchester Road Nick might have a line on that. And when you find out who,’ she looked Jacquie straight in the eye, ‘you might give the bugger a medal.’
    ‘What about Jack?’ Benny asked.
    Jacquie was quietly impressed. The boy was coming on, like a terrier with a bone. In twenty or thirty years he might make sergeant.
    Annie smiled; bitter, secret. ‘Jack
ought
to be top of the list,’ she growled, ‘the life he had with Dave. But Jack,’ she sat upright, sighing, ‘Jack is Dave’s son. Oh, he’s mine too, but he was always Dave’s first. The bastard would come home with some tart or he’d be pissed and give me a going over, but Jack couldn’t see it. Oh, no, it must have been my fault. I didn’tunderstand him, didn’t know the stress he was under. Well, it was me who wiped the kid’s nose and arse and went up to the school when he got into trouble. I was with him in court when he went down. I visited him in prison. And Dave? Well, Dave gave him toys that fell off the back of lorries. And took him down the football and to the boozer. And Jack thinks the sun shines out of his arse. There’s gratitude for you. He’s going to go ape-shit about this.’
    ‘Does he live with you?’ Jacquie asked. She was a mother too.
    ‘On and off,’ Annie shrugged. ‘As far as probation’s concerned, this is his domicile. In practice, fuck knows. I ain’t seen him for a couple of weeks. For all I know, somebody’s strangled him too.’
     
    ‘Never!’ Bill Tomlinson couldn’t believe it. ‘Wide Boy Taylor? Would you Adam and Eve it? Long overdue, mind. How long have you got here? Only the file’s thicker than President Bush.’
    The three of them were in the bowels of the police establishment in Winchester Road. Daylight had