Dead Beat

Berman compressed his lips, then said, 'I'm not at liberty to say.'

'Then it seems to me we're at an impasse. You can't tell me what he said, and I can't tell you who's making the claim.'

'It'll all come out eventually,' he said persuasively. 'You must be aware that if my client is charged, we will have to be told the names of the witnesses against him. It would surely be in everyone's interest to clear the name of an i

It was a good argument. As I picked up my bag and told Bill I was going to Bootle Street with Berman, I tried to convince myself that it was the strength of his case that had persuaded me. After all, I thought sanctimoniously, even though Kevin was Mr. Sleaze in my eyes, if I had wrongly accused him, I owed it to him to sort it out. Deep down, I knew otherwise. I had a theory, and I wanted to prove it to my own satisfaction.

It was nearly three when I got back to the office. After a lot of verbal ping-pong, with David Berman as the ball, I had obtained some very interesting material. As a result, I'd spent half an hour persuading Cliff Jackson that what I had to say to him was worth listening to. Credit where it's due, once he'd explained to me in graphic detail just why I was lower than a Salford sewer, he consented to pay attention. And instead of clambering on his high horse and ignoring what I had to say, he'd not only listened but had reluctantly agreed to give my suggestion a try. 'You get one shot,' he'd warned me. 'If you screw up, I'll bang you up as well as your chum in the cells. No messing.' I was so sure of myself I didn't feel I'd be risking that.

I found Bill leaning back in his chair, a look of deep satisfaction on his face as he puffed away on a Sherlock Holmes pipe filled with some noxious continental tobacco. 'Any news?' he asked me.

I told him where we were up to, and he smiled. He looked just like the Big Bad Wolf, his lips pulled back over teeth that gripped the pipe stem. Then he showed me what he'd dug up.

We were making plans until four. This time, everything was going to go like clockwork. This time, I wasn't going to end up with a necklace of bruises. Meanwhile, I had things to do. Unfortunately, sleep wasn't one of them.

30

Jett was waiting for me on the steps when I arrived at half-past four. His shoulders were hunched and his face had a tight, pinched look around the mouth and nose. 'You still going ahead with this showdown?' he greeted me.

'It has to be done, Jett,' I told him as we walked into the empty hall together.

'Why? They arrested Kevin. The word is he tried to kill you because you found out he killed Moira.' His tone was aggressive.

'I'm sorry, Jett. He did attack me.'

'No need for you to be sorry. You were just doing the job, like I asked you to. I'm the one should be sorry. I trusted that man with my life. And now I find out he killed the woman I cared for more than anything in the world. So why d'you have to put us through more?'

Jett hurried ahead of me into the blue drawing room. I followed more slowly, wondering how to placate Jett without giving too much away. He was pouring himself a hefty drink when I entered. 'Help yourself,' he told me. With a moody scowl on his face, he moved over to the spindly-legged chair and threw himself into it again. If I'd been the man from the Pru, there's no way I'd have insured it.

I poured myself a weak vodka and topped it up with orange juice, in the absence of my usual. I didn't think this was a good time to demand a grapefruit juice. I positioned myself in front of the grate, where some logs were smouldering half-heartedly.

Jett took a gulp of his drink and started to say something. He was interrupted by a knock at the door, which opened before either of us could say 'Come in'. Cliff Jackson barged in with a face like a man with a bad case of piles. Gloria followed him, saying petulantly, 'Sorry, Jett, he wouldn't wait till you'd finished with Kate.'

'Never mind that,' Jackson grunted. 'Just what is going on here, Bra

Jett got to his feet and shot me an angry look. 'You didn't tell me he was coming,' he protested. 'This was supposed to be between us.' Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a complacent smile spreading across Gloria's face.

'What exactly was supposed to be between you?' Jackson demanded, rounding on Jett.

'Mind your own fucking business, pig,' Jett yelled back at him. Jackson flushed dark scarlet and opened his mouth to retaliate.

'If we could all stop shouting at each other, I'll happily explain,' I interjected forcefully.

'I'm all ears,' Jackson snarled. 'It better be good. I can feel an overwhelming desire to charge someone with wasting police time.' I was impressed, I have to admit it. It made me wonder just how much of his routine bloody-mindedness was an act too.

'I know that you've charged Kevin with attempted murder after what he did last night, but there are still a few loose ends to be tied up. I asked you to come because I didn't want you to turn round and say things were being done behind your back.' I turned to Jett. 'I know you didn't want him here, but things have gone too far to be kept in the family. I'm sure you don't want Moira's killer to get away with it just because you left it all to me and I couldn't deliver.'

Jackson was shaking his head in disbelief. 'You are unreal, Bra

'Give me half an hour, Inspector. Then you can throw the book at me if you're still so minded.'

Jackson muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch. I don't think I was supposed to. He moved across the room to stare at an undistinguished oil landscape on the far wall.

Jett drained his glass and handed it to the hovering Gloria, who bustled over to the drinks. She threw a quick glance back at Jett as if to gauge what strength he needed, then poured. I noticed it was almost as large a measure as he'd poured for himself. Maybe I'd been underestimating Gloria.

The awkward silence was broken by Tamar and Micky, who entered together just on ten to five. Tamar ignored me and headed straight for Jett, who gave her a perfunctory kiss and steered her towards the sofa.

Micky moved to my side and touched my elbow. Through the cloud of cigarette smoke, I could see the worried look on his face. 'When are they going to let Kevin out on bail?' he murmured.

'I doubt if they will. He's already facing one serious charge, and there's a possibility he'll be on a murder charge by morning,' I explained softly.

He shook his head. 'This couldn't have come at a worse time. We're at a crucial stage with the album. I don't know what we're going to do.'

I was spared having to answer by Neil's entrance. He was positively bouncing with bonhomie as he crossed the room and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. I was so surprised I couldn't move out of the line of fire fast enough. Micky moved away, disgust written all over his face.

'I know it's tasteless to say so,' Neil whispered in my ear, 'but Kevin's arrest is going to make my book a bestseller. I've been on to my publisher this afternoon, and we're going to have the book ready to roll as soon as the trial finishes.'

'Why don't you get yourself a drink,' I said through clenched teeth. The guy gave a whole new meaning to sleaze.