Aftershock

Eighty-three

‘Do you have anything planned for tonight?’ Becky Stallings asked.

McGurk smiled. ‘Do you mean, am I seeing Lisanne? If so, the answer’s no.’

‘Cooling off, or just getting your breath back?’

‘The latter, I hope. It’s taken us both by surprise.’

‘Have you spoken to Mary about it? I know your separation’s been friendly so far: you want to make sure it stays that way.’

The sergeant gave her a curious look. ‘Are you speaking from experience?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t talk about it very often, but I was married once; it ended twelve years ago.’

‘What happened?’

‘Your story in reverse; it was him that couldn’t stand the job. I nearly gave it up for him, but at the last minute I decided that I’d rather give him up for it. We agreed that it was best for us to go our own ways, and we separated formally. We were the best of pals for a while, and then it all went tits up.’

‘You went out with someone else and he threw a moody?’

Stallings shook her head. ‘Entirely wrong. He got himself a new girlfriend, about six months down the line. When he told me that he was in love with somebody else and planning to marry her when he was free, I just blew up in his face. I took myself completely by surprise: I didn’t want the guy, and yet I was jealous as hell. We barely spoke after that, and I haven’t seen him or heard from him since the divorce went through. No Christmas cards, nothing: he could be dead.’

‘And if he was?’

‘Now? I wouldn’t care. Eventually I worked out why I reacted as I did. He had a new relationship going, but nobody had given me as much as a look. It kicked me right in the self-esteem. I went without for three years after that, mainly because I didn’t think there was any point in going out looking. So you be careful with your ex, Jack, if you want to keep her as a long-term friend.’

‘Thanks for the advice, Becky. If Lisanne and I do get serious, I’ll break it to her gently. But I think she’ll be all right. Last time I visited her, to pick up some stuff I’d made room for at my place, I had a headache and went looking in the bathroom cabinet for paracetamol. Didn’t find any, but there was a not-quite-new Gillette Fusion razor in there, and a can of shaving foam.’

‘What did you do?’

He grinned. ‘I was needing a shave at the time, so I had one.’

‘God, did she notice?’

‘Oh, yes. She blushed bright red, we had a laugh, and I wished her all the best. What about Ray? Does he know about your past?’

‘Yes, we had a tell-all session early on. Fancy a pint with us? I’m meeting him in Ryrie’s Bar.’

‘I’ll pass. There’s something I want to go back over.’

‘Okay. Mind if I go ahead?’

‘As if I could.’

She picked up her bag and headed for the door. McGurk waved her on her way, then picked up a videotape from his desk and walked over to the player. He was about to plug in the cassette when the phone rang. He picked it up: ‘CID, Detective Sergeant McGurk.’

‘Sergeant,’ said a clipped, cultured voice, ‘I’m glad I’ve caught somebody. This is Michael Colledge. I’m at Stansted Airport where I’ve just met my son. I’ve been told that you need to interview him. I understand that, but poor old Dave’s still shocked, having only just found out about Sugar. I propose to take him home with me tonight, and bring him up to see you tomorrow.’

‘That’s fine, sir.’

‘We’ll catch the midday shuttle. Should be with you about two, if you tell me where we should come.’

‘We’ll send a car for you, Mr Colledge.’

‘Not blue lights, I trust.’

‘No,’ McGurk assured him, ‘we’ll be discreet. Sir, the interview’s no more than a necessary formality, but would your son like legal representation?’

The Shadow Defence Secretary chuckled. ‘I’m a QC, Sergeant. I think I can fill that role myself.’