‘Still no mention of Paddington Green? Or McGale?’
Jack Maguire’s eyes bored into Sarah as he spoke. There was excitement in his voice. As if he already knew the answer to his question. Sarah’s discovery that Daniel Lawrence had died the previous night had made their cover-up theory much more likely.
‘Not a word,’ Sarah replied.
She held open the large glass exit door as Maguire struggled through. His hands were full, a camera in the right and a large case of portable sound and editing equipment in the left. Once outside Sarah released the door and watched as Maguire placed his case down, freeing his left hand to reach to his jacket pocket and remove a cigarette packet.
‘Back on the wagon today?’ he asked, holding the now-open packet out for Sarah.
‘Seems like the wrong time for that,’ Sarah replied. ‘We’ve got enough going on.’
She took two cigarettes from the packet, gave one to Maguire and kept the other for herself. A few seconds later and they were both set.
They began to walk again, with Sarah now carrying Maguire’s case.
‘There’s not a word in anything I’ve seen to suggest that Lawrence went to Paddington Green last night,’ Sarah observed, returning to the subject. ‘It’s like he wasn’t there at all.’
‘So what are they saying?’
‘Next to nothing, Jack. Lawrence’s death isn’t on any radar but ours.’
‘And they’re saying it was an accident?’
‘That’s what the cop I got it from says, yeah. The way he tells it, Lawrence was in his office till late, ends up driving home too fast. Can’t handle the car or falls asleep at the wheel or whatever and “bam”. Goodnight.’
Maguire did not answer. They walked on in silence. At least a minute passed, maybe two. Sarah was used to it. She knew Maguire’s mind was working overtime. Finally, a few feet from the van, he stopped.
‘This stinks,’ Maguire announced. ‘There’s no way that no one knows Lawrence was with McGale last night. Shit, we know the name of one copper who definitely saw him.’
‘Trevor Henry?’
‘Yeah. Henry was there when Lawrence arrived. He must have been.’
‘No doubt,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Henry walked through that gate no more than a minute before Lawrence showed up.’
‘Which means at least someone knows. We can be sure about that. And then the poor bastard turns up dead a few hours later? Just like McGale? And what? We’re supposed to accept that it’s all a bloody coincidence? I don’t think so, Sarah. Do you?’
At first Sarah did not answer. Instead she smiled, dropped her cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot. When she looked back towards Maguire her smile widened.
‘No, Jack. I don’t. What I think is that we’re in cover-up territory.’
She counted off points on her fingers as she spoke.
‘McGale? Dead. Lawrence, the lawyer they say he never saw? Dead. Something else is going on here, Jack. Something only we’ve got a line on.’
Maguire smiled back. But he did not speak. Instead he began to load their equipment into the van. He did so carefully, securing everything into place. When he was done he slammed the sliding side door shut, took what was left of his cigarette from between his lips and flicked it away.
‘So what now, boss?’
Sarah hesitated for just a moment. When she spoke she did so honestly.
‘I don’t know, Jack. That’s the problem. I mean, we know we’re being lied to but I can’t think of a single way to prove it!’
‘Then we follow the golden rule.’ Maguire’s smile grew wider as he spoke. There were still lessons he could teach. ‘When you don’t know where to start, you start at the beginning.’