THIRTY-SEVEN

Kay drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and checked her mirrors as another car swung in behind hers, its lights going out before the sound of a door slamming reached her.

Seconds later, the passenger door opened and Barnes dropped into the seat, his gaze fixed on the house farther along the street.

‘I take it he’s in, then?’

‘Seems to be. I walked past earlier and I could see lights beyond the curtains at the front.’

‘How do you want to do this?’

‘Carefully. Until we figure out what Clive Workman’s trying to hide by avoiding Laura’s question, we assume he’s a suspect.’

‘Want me to call for back-up, just in case?’

She shook her head and gestured to the houses on either side of the road. ‘I don’t think he’ll try anything. Not with this many witnesses.’

‘It didn’t bother the bloke who shot Thorngrove last week.’

Kay shivered. ‘True.’

‘Ready?’

‘Yeah.’

Setting a brisk pace, Kay strode up to Workman’s door and rang the bell before rapping her knuckles against the uPVC surface, then took a step back.

Half past eight on a Tuesday night, and given there were no lights on anywhere else in the house she could see, she didn’t think the man would be expecting visitors.

Light pooled through the frosted window pane in the door from a room to the right, and a chain rattled before Workman peered out.

Light stubble covered his jaw, and he wore a pale blue shirt over a grey T-shirt, grease spots down the front of it.

‘Who––’

Kay held up her warrant card and made the introductions. ‘A quick word, if you wouldn’t mind, Mr Workman.’

She stepped forward, but he held the door firm and glared at her.

‘I’ve just sat down to eat my dinner…’

‘Like I said…’

‘So, be quick.’ The door opened a little more but he stood his ground, folding his arms over his chest.

‘We have some follow-up questions. Specifically, who do you know who owns an illegal firearm?’

Kay saw his Adam’s apple bob once.

‘No one,’ he spluttered, his eyes darting between her and Barnes. ‘Who told you I did?’

‘You avoided the question last time my colleague asked. That makes me suspicious. So, do you want to have a quick think about it – given that your dinner’s getting cold – and try again?’

Kay cocked an eyebrow and waited.

His jaw worked a moment.

‘Look, it was a long time ago,’ he said eventually. ‘I still had my own licence back then. A bloke I knew in passing had an old Ruger he got from his grandad. Apparently he’d picked it up during the war, and gave it to him. He was asking me whether he ought to hand it in or sell it.’

‘Where’s that revolver now?’

‘I dunno.’ He frowned. ‘I never saw it. He just told me about it, that’s all.’

‘I’ll need a name.’

Workman told her, and then chuckled bitterly. ‘Not that it’ll do you any good – he died in a boating accident off Sheerness a year or so ago. It was in all the papers.’

‘Why didn’t you tell my officers this when they first spoke to you?’

‘It slipped my mind.’

‘You avoided the question at the time.’

‘Look,’ he said, spreading his hands. ‘They were firing questions at me left, right and centre. I did my best. I’ve got nothing to hide.’

‘Where were you between the hours of eight and midnight on Wednesday?’

His gaze turned cold. ‘Exactly where I told the last two I spoke to. Down the pub – my local one – playing pool with a mate. That bird who was here last time wrote down his name – Matty Oakland. He’s already spoken to one of your lot and confirmed that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go and finish my dinner.’

The door slammed shut and Kay turned away, fuming silently.

‘I’ll run the name through the system anyway, and the accident,’ said Barnes as they walked back to their cars. ‘I’ll also try to find out what happened to the old gun to close the loop on that.’

‘Thanks, Ian.’ Kay unlocked her car and tried to batten down her disappointment. ‘Unfortunately I don’t think it’s going to help us find Dale Thorngrove’s killer.’

‘Tomorrow’s another day, guv,’ he said, turning to go. ‘Catch you in the morning.’

‘Sorry to drag you out for nothing.’

‘It’s never nothing.’ He stopped and peered over his shoulder. ‘It’s like you tell the rest of the team – if we don’t ask, we don’t find out.’

She managed a smile. ‘I reckon I should listen to my own advice more often.’