Free The Headhunters by Peter Lovesey Page A

solicitor.’
    To emphasise the truth of what she was saying, she stopped on the stairs, looked straight at him and spaced her words. ‘They were not the men I saw at the beach.’
    ‘I thought you reacted to one of them.’
    This time she couldn’t be as truthful. She turned away and moved on again. ‘It was the situation. I wasn’t comfortable being so close and having them stare straight through me.’
    In the canteen, her spirits plunged. A small familiar figure was waiting at a table with a teapot and cups. Hen Mallin stood to greet them, eyes wide in anticipation.
    Sergeant Malcolm shook his head.
    The start of a smile turned into a puzzled frown. ‘You’d better get back, then. You’ve got work to do.’
    The sergeant nodded to Jo and left her with Hen Mallin.
    ‘Milk and sugar?’
    ‘Black, without, please.’
    ‘Help yourself.’
    She poured it and slopped some in the saucer.
    ‘So you weren’t able to help?’ Hen said with a sharp note of accusation.
    ‘I did what I was asked.’
    ‘A waste of everyone’s time.’
    That stung her. ‘I can’t think why, if it proves you’ve got the wrong man.’
    ‘It doesn’t prove anything,’ Hen pointed out, ‘except that you didn’t see the killer. Apparently.’
    ‘All I saw at Selsey were people acting normally. God knows why you asked me here. It’s not as if I witnessed the murder.’
    ‘You placed two men near enough to the scene to be of interest to us. If you’d picked out the suspect we’d be a damned sight closer to charging him. We’ll have to release him now. There’s a limit to how long we can hold a man and we’ve just about reached it.’
    ‘Don’t you have any other witnesses?’
    Hen watched her, level-eyed. ‘There is one actually.’
    Jo suppressed the spasm of panic she felt. ‘Did they see the woman killed?’
    ‘Christ, no. If we’d got that lucky we wouldn’t need you. Just some guy who was out walking that afternoon like you and gave us a description.’
    ‘And did he identify the man?’
    ‘In a parade, you mean? No need.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘He’s local, like the suspect. He gave us the name of the bastard.’
    BACK IN her flat, she tried to calm herself enough to get a sense of what had been going on. She was in no doubt as to whom their suspect was. She’d never seen anyone so shattered, looking just as you would after hours of questioning. The only conceivable reason for putting Jake through this ordeal was that the other witness must have seen him on the front at Selsey that fatal morning.
    Jo couldn’t think how she had missed him.
    Was one sighting enough for them to pull him in as a suspected killer?
    They’d need more. What else had they got on Jake? Whatever it was, it could only be circumstantial. Maybe he was linked in some way to the victim. Had they managed to identify the dead woman? She hadn’t asked, and they weren’t telling.
    Out of all this wretched business there was one consolation. She now understood why Jake had failed to meet her at Selsey yesterday. Not because he’d forgotten, or lost interest. It could only be because they’d arrested him.
    Whatever the police suspected, she was sure Jake was innocent and he would get her backing. Poor guy, he needed oceans of support after this. Unfortunately there was a difficulty. She didn’t have his address or phone number. And it was too late in the day to phone his work and leave a message.
    She spent the next hour trying to think of ways of contacting him. The police had said they couldn’t hold him any longer, so he’d be home by now. How frustrating was that?
    JUST BEFORE seven, her phone rang. She picked it up and gave her name. At first no one answered. She waited in dread that it was only a cold call, someone in India trying to sell her cheap electricity.
    Then a man’s voice said, ‘Sorry about yesterday.’ And she knew instantly who it was.
    ‘Jake. How are you?’
    ‘In a spot of trouble.’
    ‘I know. I know all about