“Sorry to drag you back to Tony Curran, but I’ve got something I think you’re going to like,” says Terry. “I’ve got a car that took twelve minutes to travel the half mile between the two speed cameras either side of Tony Curran’s house. Exactly the right time frame too.”
Chris looks at the details. “So it stopped somewhere between the two? Nice little ten-minute break for something or other?”
Terry Hallet nods.
“Anything else around there except Tony Curran’s house? Somewhere you’d stop?”
“There’s a lay-by. If you needed a piss. But...”
“Long piss,” agrees Chris. “We’ve all had them, but even so. And you’ve run the number plate?”
Terry nods again, then smiles.
“I like that smile, Terry. What have you got?”
“You won’t believe the registered owner, guv.”
Terry slides another piece of paper onto Chris’s desk. Chris takes it in.
“Well, this is very good news. Are you sure about these timings?”
Terry Hallet nods, drumming his fingers on Chris’s desk. “That’s our killer, surely?”
Chris has to agree. Time to go and have a chat.
60.
Bogdan has seen where Marina lives, and now is as good a time as any. She will know what to do about the bones; he sensed that as soon as he met her. He has brought her flowers. Not from the shop but from the woods, tied the way his mother used to tie them.
Flat 8. He presses the buzzer and a man’s voice answers. This surprises Bogdan. He has kept a close eye on her for a while and has not seen a man.
The external door to the building swings open. “I am here for Marina? To see Marina?” he says as he walks through. The first door off the carpeted hallway swings open; he sees an elderly man in pajamas running a comb through his thick gray hair. Maybe he has got this wrong? Either way, the man will know Marina and can point him in the right direction.
“I come looking for Marina?” says Bogdan. “I think maybe she live here, but maybe another flat?”
“Marina? Of course, of course, come in, let’s get the kettle on, shall we? Never too early, is it?” says Stephen.
With an arm around his shoulder, the man ushers Bogdan in. He is relieved to see a picture of Marina, a younger Marina, on the hallway table. It’s the right flat.
“I don’t know where she is, old chap, but she won’t be long,” says Stephen. “Probably at the shops or round at her mother’s. Sit yourself down and let’s make the most of the peace and quiet, eh? You play chess at all?”
61.
Chris Hudson is pulling his coat over his jacket as he leaves the police station. He turns as a voice behind him calls out, “Sir?”
It is Donna De Freitas. She catches up with him.
“Wherever you’re going, I think I’ve got a change of plan for you,” she says.
“I doubt it, PC De Freitas,” says Chris. He still calls her PC De Freitas at work. “I’m off to have a little chat with someone.”
“Only, I was looking through the call logs,” says Donna. “And I recognized the number.”
“The mobile that called Tony Curran?”
She nods, then takes out a scrap of paper for Chris to see. “Remember this? Jason Ritchie’s number. He’s the one who phoned Tony three times on the morning of the murder. Is this worth a change of plan?”
Chris holds up a finger to silence her and takes from his jacket pocket the piece of paper Terry Hallet gave him. He hands it to Donna. “Vehicle records, from the day of the murder.”
