Aftershock

Thirty-five

‘I’m Detective Inspector Rebecca Stallings, Mrs Weekes, and this is DS Jack McGurk. Do you think we might come in? We’d like to talk to you about your former husband.’

The woman seemed to slump in the doorway of the tenement flat. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked urgently. ‘What’s happened to him?’

‘Nothing,’ McGurk assured her. ‘He’s fine. It’s just something that’s come up at work.’

Lisanne Weekes sighed. ‘He’s not in bother, is he? He hasn’t been on the take, has he?’

‘Not as far as we know. It would be much better if you let us in, though, rather than talk on the stairhead.’

‘Sure,’ she replied, stepping aside to allow them to enter. ‘Living room’s straight ahead. I’m sorry about the mess. I’m not long in from work so the place is as I left it this morning. . a pure tip.’

‘I know you work in a bank, but what do you do there?’ asked Stallings.

She slipped off a lightweight blue jacket, part of a suit that the detectives recognised as a uniform. ‘I’m a mortgage adviser.’ She was a tall woman, big-breasted, narrow-waisted, physically similar to Mae Grey, but dark-haired rather than blonde.

‘Sit down,’ she said, dropping into a chair herself. ‘So, what do you want to ask me about Theo?’

‘Do you see much of him?’

She nodded. ‘Quite a bit. Truth is, we get on better now than when we were married.’

‘In what way?’

‘All the fun with none of the hassle, I suppose. I don’t have to worry about where he is any more, but I know he’ll always come back here.’

‘And he does?’

She looked at McGurk as if his question had annoyed her. ‘Yes, and what’s wrong with that? Being divorced doesn’t mean never seeing each other again.’

‘Granted. How long were you separated before your divorce came through?’

‘I honestly can’t remember. Our difficulties started not long after we were married. It was the hours he was working: add on his playtime and it was pretty difficult.’

‘Playtime?’

‘He likes a pint, likes to go out with the boys.’

‘And the girls?’ McGurk suggested.

‘Not as far as I know; but then I never ask. As far as I’m concerned we have an open relationship.’

‘And as far as Theo’s concerned?’

She winced slightly. ‘I don’t see other guys, so that’s irrelevant.’

‘But if you did?’ McGurk probed. ‘Are you sure it wouldn’t be relevant then? Are you telling me you’ve never dated another man since you and PC Weekes were divorced?’

She sighed. ‘There was this bloke, once, right after the divorce. I admit I was a bit angry with Theo then, and I decided that I’d get on with my life and sod him if he didn’t like it. So I went out with Byron, a man I work with. We went for a meal, then to the Omni centre, and afterwards he brought me home. I invited him up for coffee.’

‘Coffee?’

‘Maybe more. We were necking a bit and it was heading that way, when the doorbell went. I opened the door and it was Theo. He barged past me, said, “Who the fuck are you?” to Byron and thumped him.’

‘He beat him up?’ Stallings exclaimed. ‘A serving police officer?’

‘Not exactly. Byron’s huge, bigger than Theo: he nutted him, laid him out. I made him leave before things got worse.’

‘Who, Theo?’

‘No, I chucked Byron out. Theo wound up staying the night.’ She looked at the other woman. ‘He’s my weak spot.’

The inspector gave her the understanding she sought. ‘You are not alone,’ she said, with a smile. ‘So you and Theo, divorce or no divorce, you still see each other?’

‘On and off. . on mostly.’

‘Where?’

‘Usually he comes here. I’ve been to his place, but usually, he comes to me, or we go away somewhere for a weekend when his shifts allow it.’

‘Does he ever leave stuff here?’

‘He has a wardrobe, if that’s what you mean.’

‘No, not clothes; personal items.’

‘He might. I never look. Has he been stealing? Is that it?’

‘No, Mrs Weekes,’ said McGurk. ‘That’s not it. We’ll get to the problem in a bit. When did you see him last?’

‘Monday night. We got a takeaway, and he stayed over.’

‘And before that?’

‘A couple of weeks ago, a Friday night.’

‘How was he, those times? His usual self?’

‘He was maybe a bit quieter than normal on Monday. The time before that he got drunk: that’s unusual for him.’

Stallings sighed inwardly. She had taken to the woman, and was not looking forward to what was about to happen. ‘Lisanne,’ she began, ‘have you ever heard of Sugar Dean?’

Mrs Weekes thought for a moment or two. ‘The name’s familiar,’ she replied, ‘but I can’t place her.’

‘What about a woman called Mae Grey: Police Constable Mae Grey?’

‘Never. Why?’

‘Because Theo Weekes has been engaged to both of them since your divorce.’

‘What?’

‘I’m afraid so. His relationship with Sugar Dean ended two years ago, but he’s been going out with PC Grey since before that time.’

The woman’s mouth tightened; then she shrugged. ‘He’s a free man,’ she declared. ‘He’s got the right. He was probably getting back at me for Byron.’

‘He’s never said anything about other women?’

‘Not a word.’

‘And you’ve seen each other regularly since he moved out.’

‘There was a time, year before last, it would be, when I didn’t see him for a couple of months, but apart from that, yes.’

‘Did you really want to divorce him?’

‘What do you think? But after what you’ve told me, maybe I should be glad I did.’

‘Does Theo have a temper?’

‘Not with me. The Byron incident, though, that was pretty fierce.’ She paused. ‘Has he assaulted a prisoner, is that what it is?’

‘No, it’s not. Lisanne,’ said Stallings, ‘Sugar Dean’s name was familiar to you because it’s been all over the press for the last day or so. She was murdered, shot dead, twelve days ago, on a Friday morning. Her body was discovered on Monday. Those are the two days when you last saw Theo. And yet he told us that he hadn’t seen you for three weeks.’

‘Oh, my,’ the other woman gasped. She sat forward in her chair, and grasped her knees. ‘Do you think he did it? No, no, not Theo, surely not.’

‘He’s admitted to stalking her,’ the inspector told her. ‘He also made a threatening statement against her to a third party. At the moment, we’re carrying out certain tests that may tell us if he was at the murder scene. We’re also searching his locker at the station in South Queensferry, and his flat. We need to search here too, I’m afraid. We have a warrant to do so, but we’re hoping that you’ll allow us.’

‘Just his wardrobe?’

‘No; the whole place, I’m afraid. Something could have been hidden without you being aware of it. I have to ask you this: Theo hasn’t given you anything to keep for him, has he?’

‘No, he hasn’t.’

‘Can you remember back to the Friday? Specifically, the clothes he was wearing?’

‘Yes, tan jacket, blue shirt and jeans. I washed the shirt for him and put it in his drawer, but the other stuff must be hanging in the wardrobe. When he left next day he was wearing a dark blue top and chinos. I’d just bought them for him in John Lewis.’

‘Good. Thanks.’

‘When do you want to do this?’ she asked.

‘It has to be now,’ Stallings replied. ‘We have a team of officers waiting out in the street. We’ll be as quick, as neat and as discreet as we can, I promise you.’

‘What are you looking for?’

‘Primarily, a gun: but generally, anything that shouldn’t be there.’

‘A gun! My God, this is unreal.’

‘I’ll bet. Before we start, do you know of anything in the flat that isn’t yours?’

‘There’s some shaving stuff in the bathroom, and a toothbrush, but other than that, no. Everything that’s his should be in his wardrobe and in the bottom drawer of the chest alongside it.’

‘Nothing is locked away?’

‘No.’

‘That’s helpful.’

‘Can I stay while you do it?’

‘You might find it distressing. We’ll be very thorough.’

‘Then let’s get it over with,’ said Mrs Weekes. ‘Once you’re finished,’ she continued, ‘can you do something for me?’

‘Sure, if it’s appropriate. What is it?’

‘If I box up his stuff, all the things you don’t need, will you take it away with you and give it to him, or dump it at his place, or in the first skip you find in the street? After tonight, I don’t want anything of him in this house, ever again.’

‘We’ll handle that for you,’ McGurk told her. ‘Have you got somewhere to go while the team does its work? We’ll be a few hours.’

She sighed despondently. ‘Not really, no.’

‘Maybe we can help with that too,’ said Stallings. ‘Jack, I’ll stay here while the search is under way. Would you like to take Mrs Weekes for something to eat? Cooking here’s going to be impossible. Is that all right with you, Lisanne?’

A small, sad smile crossed the woman’s face. ‘It’s the best offer I’m going to get tonight, that’s for sure. If it’s all right with you, Sergeant Jack, it’s okay with me.’