Lethal Intent

Twenty-six

'I like this pub,' said Maggie, as she looked around the old tavern, strategically placed beside the railway station on the five-pointed Haymarket junction. 'I came here when I was little more than a girl, and it's barely changed since.'

'Unlike too many of them,' Stevie Steele commented. 'I don't like designer boozers, converted banking halls, that sort of thing, but I really hate it when places like this are revamped and modernised just for the sake of it, when a coat of varnish is all they really need.'

'This one's survived, at least'

'But for how much longer?'

'As long as it makes a nice profit.'

He laughed. 'And serves a nice pie.' He looked at her as he sprinkled vinegar on his chips. 'So, love, what's so important or enticing that couldn't wait till tonight?'

Maggie slipped her arms out of her overcoat and let it fall behind her over the back of her chair. She still wore her white uniform shirt, but she had removed the black and white checked cravat and epaulettes. Police uniforms always drew stares in pubs; without the telltale neckerchief, she might have been a bank clerk.

'I had a letter from my lawyer in the mail this morning,' she said. 'He's agreed the financial settlement with Mario's solicitor and it's ready for us both to sign. I'm getting the house free and clear, as Mario promised, and everything in it.'

'That's good,' Stevie replied, quietly. 'But it's no surprise, is it? You didn't expect him to go back on his word.'

'No, of course not, but it's still nice to know that the formalities are done with. Once it's signed it'll just leave one tie to be cut between us, the marriage itself.'

'Divorce, you mean? That'll happen the year after next, won't it, once you've been apart for two years?'

She nodded. 'It would do, if we followed the simple procedure and divorced on the ground of irretrievable breakdown. But if I sued Mario for divorce on the ground of adultery, it could happen virtually right away.'

Stevie's eyebrows rose. 'Would you do that?' he asked.

'I don't know. I don't feel vindictive towards him, or even towards Paula. It depends.'

'Depends on what?

'Depends on whom: it depends on you. Would you like me to be single as soon as possible?'

Stevie stopped in the middle of cutting a segment out of his mutton pie. He frowned, looked at the ceiling for a few moments, then took a mouthful from his pint of orange squash. Finally he looked back at her. 'As in free to marry?' he asked.

'I wasn't implying anything like that,' she answered quickly.

He smiled into her eyes. 'I don't care what you were implying. Whether it was a back-handed proposal or not, the answer's yes. I want you absolutely free and clear from Detective Superintendent McGuire at the earliest opportunity, and I want to marry you. But will it be that easy? Big Mario might not care to be branded publicly as an adulterer.'

'Big Mario does not care. Big Mario told his lawyer to tell mine that if that's what I want to do then it'll be fine by him and Paula, as long as I keep her name off the petition.'

Stevie's smile spread from ear to ear. 'Bloody hell!' he exclaimed. 'That's a twist.'

'But it's not unexpected by me. Mario and I weren't very good at being husband and wife, in any sense, but if either of us needs something from the other, it's as good as done.'

'Should I worry about that, long term?'

'No. Not any more. There's nothing tying us together.' She paused. 'All the bodies have been buried, and all the evidence burned.'

He laughed. 'There's nobody better at a cover-up than a copper. Are you going to do it, then, go for an immediate divorce?'

'Yes. You've just made my mind up for me.'

'I'm glad. Now make me even happier and eat your lunch: it's getting cold.'

They concentrated on their pies, their chips and their beans until they were finished. When they were, they piled their plates one on the other and picked up their drinks. Stevie shook his head, a slightly bemused grin on his face. 'Let's go to Laing's on Saturday,' he said. 'You'll have to steer me: I've never bought an engagement ring before.'

'I'm glad to hear it, but you're forgetting something. I haven't said "yes" yet.'

'Well, will you?'

'Let me tell you something else first,' she replied. 'Then you can ask me again, if you want. My letter arrived okay, but a few days ago, something else didn't'

'Uh?'

'Do you know the last time I missed a period, Stevie?'

His eyes widened. 'I wouldn't, would I?' he whispered.

'The answer's never since I started having them. Regular as clockwork, on the dot; you could set your watch by me. Until this month.'

His mouth fell open; he stared at her, idiotically. 'You mean… Have you…'

'I'm going to give it another day or so, and if nothing's happened, I'll get a kit and do a test. If I am, how do you feel about it? Would you be upset?'

'Upset?' he gasped. 'Think of me waking up as chief constable, us winning the lottery and you being pregnant. That's my wish list, in ascending order.'

'Really?'

'Couldn't be more real. I'll ask you again: will you marry me?'

To his surprise, she blushed bright red, her face in vivid contrast to the white of her shirt. 'I guess so,' she replied.