Chapter 50

Another envelope came three days later.

Unmarked.

I opened the door, looked out into the close. Saw no one. Listened for the steps of someone further down.

Nothing.

I stepped back inside, opened the envelope.

A cheque.

From David Burns.

The amount would have set me up. Meant I could skip a few cases. Bought a holiday.

I held it up in front of the window, let the early morning sun that was threatening to melt the frost create a halo around the edges of the paper.

Then I tore it in two.

Kept going.

Let the shreds fall to the floor.

I opened the door, let Susan inside.

We kept our distance. Both afraid of something.

In the kitchen, the kettle boiling, she leaned on the worktop and looked me in the eye. Unwavering. “I’m on suspension.”

“What?”

“A man died, McNee. All they have is our word that it was in self defence.”

“Christ.”

“They’ll be asking you questions.”

“Mary?”

“She’s not saying anything about what happened in the cottage. All she’ll say is that that bastard killed her mother. She claims the whole evening’s a blur. The doctors say she has a concussion which could account for the memory loss. And maybe…maybe there are some things she’d simply rather try and forget.”

I nodded. That made two of us.

The kettle boiled.

I almost thanked God. Gave me a chance to turn away from Susan. So she couldn’t see. I blinked as I poured the water.

When I turned back round, she said, “This is a mess, right, Steed?”

I hesitated. Like I didn’t know what she meant,

The here and now?

Or everything about us?

She reached out to me, placed her hand on top of mine.

I almost pulled away.

Almost.