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“And McGarrity didn’t deny killing her?”
“That’s right. I was there when DI Chadwick presented him with the evidence and he just had this strange smile on his face, and he said, ‘It looks like you’ve got me, then.’”
“Those were his exact words. ‘It looks like you’ve got me, then’?”
Bradley frowned with a
“I’ll be looking at the transcripts later,” said Banks. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with the investigation into Robin Merchant’s death?”
“Who?”
“He was another member of the Mad Hatters. He drowned about nine months after the Linda Lofthouse murder.”
Bradley shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
“Mr. Enderby was able to tell me a bit about it. He was one of the investigating officers. I was just wondering. I understand DI Chadwick had a daughter?”
“Yes. I only ever saw her the once. Pretty young thing. Yvo
“Wasn’t there some trouble with her?”
“DI Chadwick didn’t confide in me about his family life.”
Banks felt a faint warning signal. Bradley’s answer had come just a split second too soon and sounded a little too pat to be quite believable. The clipped tones also told Banks that he perhaps wasn’t being entirely truthful. But why would he lie about Chadwick’s daughter? To protect Chadwick’s family and reputation, most likely. So if Enderby was right and this Yvo
“I’m afraid not. Grown up and married, I should imagine.”
“What about DI Chadwick?”
“Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for years, not since the trial. I should imagine he’s dead by now. I mean, he was in his late forties back then and he wasn’t in the best of health. The trial took its toll. But I transferred to Suffolk in 1971, and I lost touch. No doubt records will be able to tell you. More coffee?”
“Thanks.” Banks held his mug out and gazed at the spines of the books. Nice hobby, he thought, collecting first editions. Maybe he’d look into it. Graham Greene, perhaps, or Georges Simenon. There were plenty of those to spend a lifetime or more collecting. “So even after confessing, McGarrity pleaded not guilty?”
“Yes. It was a foolish move. He wanted to conduct his own defense, too, but the judge wasn’t having any of it. As it was, he kept getting up in court and interrupting, causing a fuss, making accusations that he’d been framed. I mean, the nerve of him, after he’d as good as admitted it. Things didn’t go well for him at all. We got the similar fact evidence about the previous stabbing in. The bailiffs had to remove him from the court at least twice.”
“He said he’d been framed?”
“Well, they all do, don’t they?”
“Was he more specific about it?”
“No. Couldn’t be really, could he, seeing as it was all a pack of lies? Besides, he was gibbering. There’s no doubt about it, Patrick McGarrity was guilty as sin.”
“Perhaps I should have a chat with him.”
“That would be rather difficult,” said Bradley. “He’s dead. He was stabbed in jail back in 1974. Something to do with drugs.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Is it just me, or do I sense a bit of an atmosphere around here?” Banks asked A
“Atmosphere would be an understatement,” said A
“You look like shit,” said Banks.
“Thank you.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
A
“Of course,” said Banks. He looked as if he was wondering what the hell she was talking about.
The day was overcast and chilly, and most of the people window-shopping on Market Street wore sweaters under their Windcheaters or anoraks. They passed a couple of serious ramblers, kitted out in all the new fancy gear, each carrying the two long pointed sticks, like ski poles. Well, A
Their regular waitress greeted them and soon they were sitting over hot coffee and toasted tea cakes, looking through the misted window at the streams of people outside. A
A
“So what were you up to last night that’s left you looking like death warmed up? Feeling like it, too, by the looks of you.”
A
Banks touched her hand, a shadow of concern passing over his face. “Seriously.”
“If you must know, I got pissed with Winsome.”
“You did what?”
“I told you.”
“But Winsome? I didn’t think she even drank.”
“Me, neither. But it’s official now. She can drink me under the table.”
“That’s no mean feat.”
“My point exactly.”
“How was it?”
“Well, a bit awkward at first, with the rank thing, but you know I’ve never held that in very great esteem.”
“I know. You respect the person, not the rank.”
“Exactly. Anyway, by the end of the evening we’d got beyond that, and we had quite a giggle. It was ‘A
“What were you talking about?”
“Mind your own business. It was girl talk.”
“Men, then.”
“Such an ego. What makes you think we’d waste a perfectly good bottle of Marks and Spencer’s plonk talking about you lot?”
“That puts me in my place. How was it when you met up at work this morning? A bit embarrassing?”
“Well, it’ll be ‘Winsome’ and ‘Guv’ in the workplace, but we had a bit of a giggle over it all.”
“So what started it?”
A
“Kev Templeton? Was this about the promotion? Because-”
“No, it wasn’t about the promotion. And keep your voice down. Of course Winsome’s pissed off about that. Who wouldn’t be? We know she was the right person for the job, but we also know the right person doesn’t always get the job, even if she is a black female. I know you white males always like to complain when a job goes elsewhere for what you see as political reasons, but it’s not always the case, you know.”