Murmuring the Judges

63

‘This is the place, sir,’ said DC Pye. ‘The most exclusive men’s shop on George Street.’

‘Do you shop here then, Sammy?’ Martin grinned.

‘When I’m in your job, Boss, I’ll be able to afford it.’ They looked at the glass-fronted edifice, behind which skeletal structures modelled the latest in designer suits. A police patrol car stood at the kerb behind them, its uniformed driver behind the wheel.

‘Eh, Boss,’ said the young detective, tentatively.

‘Yes.’

‘I think Sergeant Neville was a wee bit upset that you left her in the office.’

‘Yes, I could see that. I’ll have a word with her when we get back. The thing is, we don’t know anything about this guy, other than that he’s an ex-Para. He may not want to get into the motor and come quietly. Should that happen, I’d rather have you alongside me than Karen, for my sake, and hers.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about her, sir. Karen can handle herself in a bundle. She has a black belt in Tae Kwan Do.’

‘Fair enough.’ Martin grunted. ‘But how would that help if someone grabbed her by the bra-straps and nutted her? No, Sammy; I’m all for the advancement of women in the force, but horses for courses, okay.’

He led the way into the shop, through the double doors, which swung lightly on his touch. At once, a middle-aged man approached them. The Head of CID thought that he looked a little self-conscious in his Armani jacket.

‘Can I help you, gentlemen? I’m Lorimer Davidson, the manager. I saw you get out of your car.’

‘And you guessed we haven’t come to shop,’ said the Chief Superintendent. ‘You’re right. We’d like to speak with a member of your staff, a Mr Clark.’

The manager sniffed, a slightly comic gesture. ‘Alan? I’d like to speak to him too.’

‘You mean he isn’t here?’

‘No, he bloody well isn’t,’ Davidson exclaimed. ‘He had a phone call, around forty-five minutes ago. . notwithstanding that personal calls are strictly against the rules. He took it, then, without a “please” or a “by-your-leave”, just rushed out.

‘I haven’t seen him since. I hope he has a bloody good excuse, but with you turning up and wanting to see him, somehow, I rather doubt that he will have.’

‘So do we, sir,’ said Martin. ‘So do we. I think you should start advertising for a new sales assistant.’