Phil didn’t get far. DC Imani Oliver waited until he reached his desk before crossing over to him.
‘Sir,’ she said. ‘Could I have a word?’
‘Course you can,’ he said, and sat down. DC Oliver pulled up a chair at the opposite side of the desk. ‘Hear you’ve had a fun time watching home movies,’ said Phil.
Imani shuddered. ‘Not the best way to spend a Saturday afternoon,’ she said. ‘But it could be worse. I could have been watching the Villa.’
Phil thought he was just going to smile at her joke but found himself actually laughing. And it felt good. Imani Oliver saw his reaction, smiled.
‘Long day, boss, and it’s only lunchtime. Anything’s funny.’
He noticed for the first time a bundle of papers in her hand. ‘What you got there?’
She put them on the desk. ‘I’ve been going through the letting agency agreement for the house Glenn McGowan rented,’ she said. ‘And there’s something not right about it.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, you’d expect the house to have been rented out to McGowan personally. Or even the company he worked for. That’s what usually happens in these kinds of cases. Or there’s an agency that sorts out property on behalf of the company for its employees to stay in.’
‘But?’
‘Nothing like that here. Glenn McGowan was doing this on his own. Not through his work. So it should be in his name.’
‘And it’s not?’
Imani Oliver shook her head. ‘It’s in a company name. Seems to be a holding company, from what I can gather. An umbrella. And guess who one of the directors is?’
Phil shrugged. ‘Surprise me.’
‘Ron Parsons.’
Phil leaned forward. ‘I’m interested now.’
Imani Oliver smiled. ‘Thought you might be.’
Any further discussion was suddenly curtailed. The office, chugging along on coffee and overtime, burst into life. Something had happened. Sperring put the phone down, almost ran to Phil.
Phil stood up. Imani Oliver stayed sitting. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Murder,’ said Sperring. ‘Another one. One of the posh houses in Edgbaston. Two people dead. Very nasty, apparently.’
‘They all are.’
Sperring shrugged, looked down at Oliver, not bothering to hide his distaste, then back at Phil. ‘You’re the senior officer here. You’d better get going.’
‘Had I?’
Sperring’s eyes were hard and bright. ‘Unless you need someone to show you the way.’
Once again Phil wanted to punch him. Instead he swallowed his anger down. Tried to react calmly. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I won’t need that.’
‘You know the way, then?’ asked Sperring, unable, or unwilling, to keep the sneer from his voice.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Phil. ‘I’m not going.’
Sperring frowned.
‘No. I’m not going,’ Phil reiterated. ‘Know why? You are.’
‘What d’you mean?’ Suspicion creased Sperring’s features.
‘You’re a detective sergeant, that’s a high enough rank; why don’t you do it? I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of running a murder investigation.’
Sperring stepped in close to Phil so no one else could hear. ‘What you doing? Eh? What you playing at?’
‘Me? Nothing,’ said Phil. ‘Does this conflict with anything you’re doing?’
‘No.’
‘Then the case is yours. Go to it.’
Sperring stepped back, looked at him. Sizing him up, playing down his suspicions for the time being, but letting Phil know he was on to him. Phil didn’t care what Sperring thought.
‘I want to take Khan.’
‘Take who you like.’
Sperring looked at Imani, back to Phil. ‘I’d better get going, then. Real police work to do.’
‘Don’t let me stop you,’ said Phil.
Sperring turned, left.
Phil was aware of being watched by Imani Oliver. He looked at her. ‘DS Sperring and I seem to be encountering communication difficulties.’ He kept his face as impassive as possible while speaking.
‘Not surprised,’ said Imani. ‘The man’s an arrogant, boorish prick.’
Phil stared at her. ‘Do I have to give you a lecture on insubordination, DC Oliver?’
She shrugged. ‘If you like. But he’ll still be an arrogant, boorish prick.’
Phil smiled. ‘You busy?’ he asked.
‘Was going to watch more hardcore S and M porn. Why, you want to join me?’
He laughed. ‘Just wondered if you fancied a ride out to see Ron Parsons.’
She smiled. ‘Better than watching the Villa,’ she said.