‘Wouldn’t we be better off applying for a warrant?’ Luddy said, following Ruby through the litter-strewn alleyway, which led to the rear of the pawnbroker’s shop. ‘And why are we going around the back?’
‘Because the back is where all the fun happens,’ Ruby said with a grin. ‘I bet you were one of those kids who sat at the front of the bus on school trips, weren’t you?’ She knew she shouldn’t enjoy being such a bad influence, but she could not help herself. Ruby had always been trouble. Being in the police could not change that.
She pushed open the wooden gate, lifting it slightly from the hinges to make her entrance. Luddy followed her through, his face taut. A burst of sound emitted from his police radio, and he swiftly turned the knob to silence the voice of the controller.
Ruby rapped hard on the blistered back door. A gust of wind howled around them, sending a tin can bumping along the alleyway. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, but it was all lost on Ruby, who was focused on the task ahead.
‘Best you leave the talking to me,’ she said to Luddy as the sound of footsteps grew from the other side of the door.
Masked in a halo of cigarette smoke, Buster Turner peered through the door. ‘The shop entrance is around the front.’
He was a greasy little man, his shoulder-length dark hair slicked back from his face. Two loose strands hung over his forehead, reminding Ruby of antennae. With his beady eyes and long pointed nose, everything about him was insectile.
Ruby raised her warrant card, her voice firm. ‘We’ve come to speak to you.’ She laid her hand on the door and pushed it open. ‘Now, if you don’t mind. We’ll only be five minutes.’
With a grunt of annoyance Buster turned, allowing Ruby and Luddy to follow him inside as he treaded lightly on the linoleum. The smell of sour milk and cigarette smoke hung thick in the air. To the left was a poky kitchen. A variety of dead plants dotted the window ledge, and a pile of used teabags took up residence on the sink draining board. Ruby turned her attention to the door at the end of the hall, reading the words SHOP scrawled in black marker pen over the blue paint. Buster entered the door on the right, following the sound of the tinny pop music playing from within. She should have asked DC Ash Baker along instead, she mused. He was old school and knew that sometimes you had to take a different approach. She felt a pang of guilt as the thought entered her mind. Luddy was studying for his sergeant’s exams, and she would not drag him into a situation that could damage his chances of promotion. She was a copper first, and would play this by the book. She glanced around the poky room, a veritable Aladdin’s cave: wall-to-wall with cabinets, their drawers stuffed with jewellery of every shape and size. One such drawer was laid on a wooden desk next to an eyepiece on its side, waiting for its owner to return.
On the radio, Kylie Minogue was singing about a locomotive, and Buster dragged his chair from behind his desk as he took a seat, leaving Ruby and Luddy to stand.
‘What do you want?’
Luddy opened his mouth to speak, but Ruby beat him to it. This was her world, and she knew exactly how to deal with people like Buster Turner. ‘We were making some local enquiries and saw your gate was open. You should be careful, there are some very dodgy people about.’
Buster narrowed his eyes in a mistrusting glare. ‘Your concern is noted. Do you need me to see you out?’ He leant forward to rise from his chair.
Ruby shook her head, satisfied she had come up with a suitable excuse for coming through the back entrance, in case he made anything of it later. ‘Now that I’m here, I’d like to speak to you about some stolen jewellery. A silver designer bracelet was taken from a young woman who was found murdered in the park last night.’ She produced her phone and drew up the picture of the missing piece. ‘There’s a pair of matching earrings too. They’re quite distinctive, little silver keys with the numbers “21” on them. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about those, would you?’
‘I run a respectable establishment,’ Buster said, impertinently. ‘I do not take in stolen goods.’
‘And the Pope doesn’t pray,’ Ruby said, poking some of the jewellery on the desk with her index finger.
Tiny beads of sweat glistened on Buster’s forehead, and Ruby knew it was not from the two-bar heater weakly warming the room. ‘My clients go through a strict signing in process, providing photographs and ID,’ he added, his eyes darting from the jewellery and back to Ruby.
‘What about the camera-shy customers who give you an extra cut?’ Ruby said, arching an eyebrow.
Buster remained tight-lipped, and Ruby’s frustration grew. Playing nicely was getting her nowhere. She exhaled sharply; she didn’t have time for this.
‘I think it’s time you went,’ Buster said, his hand drawn to the lip under his desk. He was probably trying to alert the gorilla working behind the front counter, and that was an encounter Ruby could do without.
She planted her hands firmly on his desk, her words like bullets. ‘Do you want me to turn this place over?’ She pointed at the jewellery to drive her message home. ‘I don’t care about your stolen gear, I’m only interested in the bracelet and earrings. I know you’ve got them.’ Ruby was bluffing; well aware she was placing all her trust in a man who could be bought for a cooked breakfast and a ten-pound note. But it was too late to back out now. ‘I can nick you for obstruction and close the place down for a search, or you can provide me with a statement, help us with our enquiries. What’s it to be?’ She glanced at Luddy, who was standing with his arms folded.
‘This is police oppression,’ Buster sneered. ‘I’m going to report you for this.’
‘Fine, if you want to play it that way,’ Ruby said, knowing his arrest would give her the automatic right to conduct a premises search. But given her intelligence source, her justification was thin. ‘You can make your complaint in custody while we’re arranging for a solicitor to deal with your arrest.’ Despite her cool veneer, Ruby’s heart was hammering. Everything was riding on a bluff. It was the only way to deal with a snake like Buster, and William had never let her down before.
‘I’ll take my chances. In fact, I’ll contact your superiors now rather than waste any more time,’ Buster said, picking up the phone on his desk and dialling the first of three nines.
Ruby pressed the receiver to hang up the call. ‘Go ahead, but first let me call your landlord, Nathan Crosby. He’d be very interested to hear one of his tenants is involved in a murder enquiry.’ The irony was that, despite Nathan being a lawbreaker himself, he did not appreciate attention being drawn to his businesses. He would not be pleased, and of that Buster Turner was well aware.
‘You wouldn’t,’ Buster said, recoiling from the desk phone as if it were a pit of snakes.
Ruby began searching through her list of contacts on her mobile phone. ‘I’ve got his number on speed dial.’ She waved it in his face, watching him visibly wilt. ‘It’s your choice. What’s it to be?’