It had made Lee Russon angry and for a few minutes it had worried him, but when he got back he had calmed down, told himself that in spite of some of the questions, the cop did not know anything worth knowing – definitely nothing that could lead to the truth. But the reason they were raking through the cold files again was obvious. They ought to have better things to bother about than reading interviews in the paper with the Still woman, trying to stir it all up.
Mrs Still. He couldn’t stop smiling.
In the shack, everything was ready and all he had to do was pass the time until dark. He found an old Wordsearch magazine under a pile of newspapers and did the few puzzles that he’d missed, only that didn’t take long. He was good at wordsearch. Very, very good.
So he did the only other thing that would help him pass the time; drank two cans of Strongbow and went to sleep.
‘Marion?’
‘Hello, Bren, how are you? I rang you yesterday but you weren’t there.’
‘No, I was out for the evening with Clive and Vicky. The pub quiz evening. Anyway, I was just calling because I can’t do Thursday as usual, so could we make it Friday? I thought we might try the new Italian place, it looks really nice, we walked past it last night. How would you feel?’
‘Yes, nice idea. Why not? It’s good to try out somewhere new and I like Italian so long as it isn’t pizza. Always gives me heartburn.’
‘It’s that pastry-bread base. Can be quite soggy. But they have lots of other things, I stopped to look at the menu. Shall I book us a table for seven?’
‘Would you? That’s kind. Everything all right with you?’
‘Oh yes, but the other thing I wanted to ask was if you’d had any more problems with noises out in your garden at night? Because if you have, you do know you can always come and stay here, any time, you only have to just ring – the bed’s always made up.’
‘I know and that’s so kind of you as well. But actually, it’s all been quiet, thank God. Not a whisper. I think it was a fox out in the garden myself. I read in the Gazette that they’re becoming a real problem in towns. They don’t know what to do about it.’
‘I hope they don’t start putting poison down.’
‘Yes, but what else is there? They wouldn’t shoot them in a town, and people have had them walk through patio doors into their houses. It’s no joke. They spread all sorts of germs and illnesses as well.’
‘Make sure yours stay out in the garden then.’
‘Oh yes. I have to go, the oven timer just pinged. But I’ll see you Friday, Brenda, really looking forward to it.’
Dave went down to the club at half six, got a pint, and ticked his name off on the sheet. He was fourth. He wouldn’t drink more until after the games were finished, it upset his focus, and this wasn’t just a friendly, this match was important. He saw a couple of the others over by the bar, and went to join them. They were smart – clean shirts, clean jeans or trousers with a crease, hair brushed and gelled. They were pumping themselves up. So was he. They were going to win.
He raised his glass. They replied.
‘Here’s to us,’ Dave said, ‘and wiping the floor with them.’
They were focused. They were ready. That’s all any of them were thinking about.