Free Broken by Martina Cole Page B

of whoring, but no. Money’s at the root of everything with you, isn’t it? Bloody money.’
    She paused and took a painful breath. Then: ‘Try the girls out first, did you? I understand that was Duggan’s forte. A bit of strange, as you call it. Too strange to sit in on business dinners - you had me for that, I assume. Nice to have someone who didn’t look like a grandchild sitting beside you, eh?’
    He winced at the vitriol in her words.
    ‘Once more you have made a blasted fool of me, Pat. I had to forgive and forget, even when you were going to murder George Markham. I actually understood where you were coming from and I went against every belief I had ever held to hang on to you, to keep you in my life. Well, I have finally had enough of it, of all you believe in and all you seem to think you can do without even considering how it affects me. You’ve blown it, boy. Better dust off the phone book, but then again maybe not. They’ll all be too old for you by now, eh?’
    ‘Don’t, Kate. Don’t say things you will regret.’
    She looked into his face, and shaking her head slowly she said quietly, ‘I don’t need you, Pat, not like you think I do. I’ve learned so much from you over the last few years, and do you know what the main thing is? Cover your own arse. And that, Patrick, is exactly what I intend to do.’
    She pushed past him and started pulling clothes from drawers, piling them on the bed.
    He watched her in distress. ‘Please, Kate, listen to me. I never thought you’d need to know.’
    She faced him, her anger mounting as she looked at his handsome face.
    ‘You never thought, period. Good old Kate, eh? The Filth, the Old Bill. Mrs Respectable hanging on your arm. Maybe you thought I was a bit of added protection, eh?’
    He grabbed her hand and dragged her round to face him, his own anger surfacing then.
    ‘I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act this way. I knew you hated what I did. But if I don’t do it, someone else will.’
    Kate laughed nastily and shook her head mockingly, a gesture she knew would infuriate him.
    ‘Remember when that girl died in your scummy, shitty massage parlour? Remember what you said then? You felt responsible for her. You couldn’t protect Mandy, and you couldn’t protect her. I bet you don’t even remember her name now, do you? Be honest with me. What the fuck was her name, eh?’
    She could see the confusion on his face and pushed him away from her.
    ‘I thought so. Crocodile tears then, and crocodile tears now. You really are a piece of work, Kelly. But then, I expect you know that.’
    She pulled a couple of suits from the wardrobe and, bundling everything in her arms, she stalked from the room. Patrick followed her, nonplussed, unable to talk because he knew she was really going to explode at some point and what she needed now was a cooling-off period. He followed her down the stairs and into the hallway. She dragged the front door open and stormed across the drive, knickers and bras dropping on to the gravel at regular intervals.
    As she opened the car door and threw her clothes inside she shouted over her shoulder: ‘By the way, Pat, her name was Gillian Enderby. A pretty girl, a drug addict. Remember her now?’ Slamming the car door, she wheelspinned off the drive and was gone.
    He stood watching her, bereft, angry and chastened. Gillian Enderby’s mother came back to mind then: her hatred of him and subsequent attack. Sighing heavily, he walked back into the house.
    Willy had a large Scotch waiting in the den and Patrick took it without a word.
    ‘I had a feeling she might have the hump, Pat. It’ll pass, she’s a sensible girl.’

    Kate drove back to the station at speed. Her temper was so acute she could taste it. It was a metallic taste, reminiscent of sucking a penny when she was a child. That Patrick could have been a part of all that without telling her spoke volumes. Now Duggan was dead, and Pat was going to be questioned at