DS Jessie James tried hard not to let her irritation show.
DC Deepak Shah had received a call on his mobile. Fair enough. But instead of just answering it or putting it on handsfree and loudspeaker, he had insisted on pulling the car over.
‘Just take the call,’ she had said, exasperatedly, not for the first time.
He had ignored her, followed his own procedure. She had shaken her head. Bet he demands an invoice every time he makes a cup of tea at home, she thought.
‘No,’ he had said. ‘It’s this one.’ And had dug down into his trouser pocket, pulled out a second mobile. An old black clamshell.
Two phones. Jessie shook her head.
He listened, asked a couple of questions, and Jessie became curious, despite herself. Deepak took out his notepad, wrote something down. Jessie tried to see what it was, but he kept it angled away from her.
Sometimes she wanted to kill him.
He ended the call slowly, almost ritualistically, and pocketed the phone.
‘Two phones?’ she said.
He nodded.
‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t be too careful,’ he said. He patted his pocket, checked the notepad, entered something into the sat nav, put the car back in gear. When a space in the traffic appeared, he pulled out.
‘Can’t be too careful?’ Jessie laughed. ‘What, like the American cops that used to carry two guns? One a throwdown piece, for shootouts.’
He said nothing.
‘That’s you, is it? The British equivalent? What you going to do, call someone to death?’
‘That was the station,’ he said, ignoring her. ‘They’ve traced the car.’
Jessie was suddenly all business. ‘From outside the cottage? The one that was there when the cottage went up?’
He nodded.
‘And?’
‘It’s registered to … ’ He glanced at his notepad. ‘Michael Sloane.’
‘Right. Good. We got an address?’
‘On the pad. I’ve taken the liberty of keying it in. I presumed you would want to go there and question them.’
‘Absolutely. No time like the present.’
They drove on.
‘Sloane … Michael Sloane … ’ Jessie frowned. ‘Why does that name mean something? I’ve heard it before.’
Deepak nodded. ‘I agree. Can’t remember where, though. Shall I pull over, ma’am? Make a few calls?’
‘No, just keep going. We’ll do it later.’
‘You’re the boss.’ He kept driving.
Deepak annoyed the hell out of her. But she had to admit, he was a damned good copper. In fact there was no one she would rather have alongside her.
She smiled to herself. Well, perhaps Mickey Philips …