When Ash doesn’t elaborate, Ian hazards a guess. ‘Carla?’
‘Yeah. She … er … Dandruff’s left her.’
‘Oh,’ Ian says. What else is there to say? ‘Och, he’s not good enough for her anyway.’ That’s the only thing he can think of. It’s corny, but he happens to believe it. He steers the conversation back on track. ‘So, as I was saying, er … this is in total confidence, you understand, between you and me.’ Ian points to Ash and then at himself as he says this, raising his eyebrows in expectation of some sort of assurance or promise that Ash will keep this to himself.
‘You got it,’ Ash says.
That will have to do, Ian supposes. ‘We found a hair on the vict … Joshua’s body.’ He notices Ash straighten in his seat. He ploughs on before Ash can interrupt him. ‘It came from the head of a young, blonde woman, who dyes her hair black.’ Ian pauses to let that sink in.
‘I see. You don’t think it’s Iris’s hair, do you?’
‘I don’t know what to think, to be honest.’
‘If it is hers, could it have been on Josh’s clothing or on a piece of furniture or something for a while and then transferred to his body? Is that possible?’
Ian is about to tell Ash they got a partial DNA profile from the hair, which means it was probably shed fairly recently. But he catches himself on. He can’t keep giving Ash information about the investigation. He could point out that Iris only started dyeing her hair after the video went viral, when she no longer frequented Josh’s place, but he drops it. ‘Aye, anything’s possible,’ he says instead.
Ash looks thoughtful, as if debating whether to say something. He appears to decide against it and takes a few gulps of his lager.
‘I … er … I went to see my manager,’ Ian says. ‘My superior. It got to the point where I felt I had to.’ He watches as the blood drains from Ash’s face and realizes what his friend is thinking. ‘Oh, no. Not to denounce Iris or anything like that,’ he adds hastily. I’ve stepped down as senior investigating officer.’ Ash’s eyebrows knit together into a stitch. ‘I’ve been removed from the inquiry,’ Ian clarifies. ‘Due to personal involvement.’
‘Because of Iris?’
‘Well, that wasn’t the reason I gave. I told the superintendent I’d known the victim and my wife had taught many of the teenagers we’re currently interviewing, some of whom were friends with my daughter, and I felt there might be a conflict of interest. They tend not to take any risks with that sort of thing nowadays.’
‘I don’t know what to say, Roly,’ Ash says. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Ian didn’t tell the super he didn’t think he was doing his job properly, with integrity, and he doesn’t tell Ash this now either. In Ian’s mind, it boiled down to a simple choice: his friendship with Ash or his career. A no-brainer. Anyway, his career’s not over. He may get another chance one day, although a murder case is a once-in-a-blue-moon thing, especially out here in the sticks.
‘Thank you, Roly,’ Ash says. Unless Ian’s mistaken, Ash has teared up.
‘Sure, it’s no bother. No bother at all.’ He drains his pint and waves the glass in Ash’s face. ‘One more for the road?’
‘Why not? I’ll get these.’
It’s Ian’s round, but he lets Ash get the pints in and goes outside for another smoke.
*
He’s standing in front of his house, about to smoke his last cigarette of the evening, when Jo opens the door and hands him his phone.
‘I answered it,’ she says. ‘Thought it might be important.’
‘Hello?’ he says into the mobile.
‘Good evening, sir. It’s Gail.’
Gail? He pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. His brain gets there at the same time as he reads the caller ID. DC Ward. ‘Ah, good evening, er … Gail.’
‘Sir, I know you’ve stepped down as SIO, but I thought you’d like to know we’ve made an arrest.’
Ian’s heart skips several beats, then races as if to make up for it. Have they arrested Iris? ‘Who?’ he manages.
‘Harry Tomlinson, sir.’
Ian is so relieved he can’t place the suspect, even though the name rings a bell. Clearly, he has drunk too much, although it was – what? – four pints. He’s such a lightweight. ‘Who?’ he asks again.
‘Harry Tomlinson, sir. The physics teacher at South Lydacombe School?’
