Chapter 20

Derry Hacker asked for another round of gin and tonics. Tim tried to refuse, but Derry just eyed him with amusement and went ahead anyway. They’d ordered dinner some time before, but the restaurant had swiftly become crowded after they’d greeted Patti and, as Derry said, none of the food would be arriving via the microwave or freezer: the wait would be worth it.

Patti seemed unperturbed by the prospect of another drink, surprising Tim, who remembered her as a very moderate drinker. Tim himself was feeling queasier by the minute. He resolved to try to dispose of his next drink, perhaps by simply leaving it until the waiter brought the food. He poured himself a glass of water.

The conversation had been a little stilted, but friendly enough. They’d kept to neutral topics. Tim wondered what Patti had been doing in London that day, wearing that dress, if she really hadn’t been back to her hotel to change. She certainly wasn’t dressed for her grisly trade, or for the conference that Derry had mentioned earlier and then seemed to forget about. He didn’t ask her because he was afraid of overstepping the boundaries of professionalism. He’d resolved to show a polite interest in Patti’s work while at the same time conveying that he knew that her personal life was off limits for him. She seemed to have adopted the same strategy, asking briefly after Katrin and Sophia but listening to his reply without showing too much interest.

The second round of gin and tonics arrived: evidently the bar staff could move a lot more swiftly than their colleagues in the kitchen. Derry scooped one of the glasses from the tray before the waiter could even set it down and took a large swig before hoisting it in the air.

“Cheers!” he said. “Here’s to old times!”

He was always ebullient, but Tim noticed that his mood was becoming ever more boisterous. He’d drunk more than either of his companions, too. He was giving a good impression of a man with a drink problem, but perhaps he was just nervous, if what he’d said about wanting to get closer to Patti was true.

Patti herself was beginning to look uncomfortable. Derry’s raised voice had attracted stares from people sitting at the adjacent tables: Tim knew that she hated drawing attention to herself in public. Derry took another gulp from his glass before setting it down noisily.

“Well, excuse me,” he said. “I’m ready for a fag break, I think. I’m going to need one before the starter comes.”

He stood up and brushed noisily past Tim’s chair, patting his jacket pocket as he headed for the street.

“Same old Derry,” Patti smiled, though Tim could see she felt awkward.

“Yes, I’d forgotten that he’s best enjoyed in small doses.”

She laughed.

“How are you, Tim? I don’t think I’ve seen you since you called me out to look at the remains of the baby at Sutterton Dowdyke. Weird case that one, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Tim. “One of the weirdest. I don’t think we ever got to the bottom of all that was going on there. And talking of getting to the bottom of things, do you remember a crook called Peter Prance?”

“The name vaguely rings a bell, but I’m not sure I ever met him. Remind me of why I should know him.”

“It was the Kathryn Sheppard case, so quite a while ago now. He was the boyfriend of Hedley Atkins, who was eventually found guilty of the murder of his sister decades before. Unjustly, in my view.”

“Do you think this Peter Prance was the murderer?”

“No. He’s a confidence trickster. A plausible if unpleasant character, but without enough guts to kill. I mentioned him because I thought I saw him yesterday.”

“Is he on the run?”

“He’s still wanted for questioning about the Atkins case. He was blackmailing Atkins, and, from memory, I think he’d also broken the terms of his probation. He conveniently disappeared before we could nail him.”

“Is it likely that he’s in London? If he’s used to operating in a place like Spalding, you’d think he’d be out of his depth here.”

“He doesn’t come from Spalding. He turned up there because he was lying low. He’d upset some thugs and was keeping out of their way. He’s used to cities. He was born in Liverpool and has ‘worked’ in London. I think the thugs were based here, actually.”

“He obviously made a big impression on you.”

“He both annoyed me and fascinated me at the time. He’s an unusual crook, but like most crooks in one respect: wherever he is, you can bet he’s breaking the law in some way.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but from what I hear you’ve got your work cut out dealing with something rather more serious at the moment. Derry’s on his way back,” Patti added, as if in warning.

Tim quickly switched his untouched gin and tonic with Derry’s half-finished one. Patti watched but said nothing. Her own drink was also untouched.

“Right, ready for anything now,” Derry announced, squeezing past Tim a little more nimbly than when he’d made his exit. He looked around him. “Where is the bloody food? I know I said we should be patient, but this is getting ridiculous.”

As if on cue, the waiter arrived with their starters. Tim hoped that his choice of melon would help to settle his stomach. Patti had also opted for melon. Derry was presented with a sizeable slab of chicken liver pate. Tim caught a whiff of it and almost gagged.

The wine waiter was also hovering.

“A nice Shiraz with this, I think,” Derry boomed. “Or would you prefer white?” He looked at Patti. “If so, I’ll get a bottle of white as well.”

“Red’s fine,” she said. “I don’t think we’ll need more than one bottle.”

“Let’s wait and see, shall we? Tuck in, everyone. I’m starving.”

Tim ate the melon slowly and carefully. He thought it was indeed helping to allay the nausea. He looked across at Patti and saw that she was merely toying with her food. He wondered why she’d agreed to come. The prospect of an evening with a man whom she’d rejected could hardly have been enticing, even with a third person present.

Derry had downed Tim’s gin and tonic and was making inroads on his first glass of red wine when his mobile rang.

“Shit!” he said, inadvertently spitting pate and toast crumbs at Tim.

“Don’t answer it.”

“Got to, I’m afraid. Technically, I’m on call. And this may be a breakthrough in a case I’m working on.”

Derry pulled the phone from his inside pocket and had already picked up the call as he was weaving his way back through the tables to the door. There was another awkward silence between Tim and Patti.

“We should start playing a game,” Tim said. “Something along the lines of ‘how many words of serious conversation can you get in during Hacker’s absences’?” He grinned. It wasn’t very funny, but Patti was grateful and smiled back at him.

“You were telling me about your ex-con,” she said. “If he’s in London he’s no longer your responsibility, is he? More likely to be Derry’s!”

“Depends what he’s doing. My unfinished case is still on our books. He may very well have fitted in a few crimes on Derry’s patch since then. I don’t feel competitive about it. If Derry can nail him, that’s fine by me.”

Derry reappeared at that moment, once again jogging the adjacent table. The four diners glared at him in unison, but he appeared not to notice.

“Who do you want me to nail? I’ll do my best but I’m afraid it won’t be tonight. Sorry, but I’ve got to go. As I said, a breakthrough. A bunch of toughs I’ve been after for ages. It looks as if they’ve done something stupid.”

“What kind of something stupid?”

“No time to tell you in detail, but they’ve pulled a gun on someone and then beaten him up, or worse. Petty criminal, probably, just some old bloke who’s annoyed them. But now we know roughly where they are. With a bit of luck we might catch them tonight.”

“Is the old bloke going to grass on them?”

“He can’t, yet. They’ve taken him with them. Stupid move in some ways, as he’ll be a liability, especially if he’s hurt. Unless they choose the obvious solution, but as far as I know it would be their first murder.”

“Do you want me to come and help?”

“Nah. You stay and look after Patti. We can’t both walk out on her. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned to Patti.

“I’m really sorry about all this. Will I see you tomorrow, as well?”

“I’m going home tomorrow, but I’ll drop in briefly to say goodbye if I have time.”

“Well, thanks for coming.” A momentary look of sadness crossed Derry’s face. He leaned across the table to kiss Patti on the cheek and gave Tim a clap on the back.

“Got to go! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he said, smirking and walking backwards into one of the diners at the next table as he did so. A portly man with a walrus moustache, rather incongruously dressed in a very short leather bomber jacket, rose to his feet.

“Excuse me,” he said, “If you do that again I‘m going to . . .” but Derry had already sailed past him. Tim met the man’s eye and shrugged.

“I must apologise for the disruption,” he said. “My friend’s a police officer. He’s on an important case.”

The portly man sat down heavily.

“Let’s hope it keeps him busy for the rest of the evening,” he said. Tim looked at Patti. She was nodding in agreement, but whether this was because she was trying to mollify the man or really meant it was impossible to tell. Tim realised that, despite his original misgivings about dining with Patti, the evening was likely to be a great deal pleasanter now they were on their own. His stomach gave an unpredictable lurch. If only he could get rid of this bloody nausea.