Page 56 of Her Lips Are Sealed

Ben leaned his elbows on the table. ‘How did they get in your fridge then. I mean someone had hidden them under a stinking packet of diced chicken that you really need to throw out, Paul. If you didn’t put them there, who did?’

‘No comment.’

Ben leaned back, and he looked down at the pictures of Rachel. ‘She’s a very attractive woman. I get why you liked her.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Do you have friends around much, Paul, visitors to your flat?’ Ben asked.

‘Not really. I don’t socialise much, can’t afford to go out; the price of beer around here.’

Ben nodded. ‘I know, it’s expensive. When was the last time you had a friend around to your place then for a drink? It’s much cheaper to drink at home than go to the pub. I went to a pub quiz last night and it cost me thirty quid for a round of drinks.’

‘Exactly and that’s why I don’t go out. Can’t remember, few months ago now. Prefer my own company if I’m honest. Keep myself to myself.’

Lucy was smiling at him. ‘I should imagine with your reaction at someone knocking on your door that would be the safest thing to do.’

Paul glared at her. ‘Is she for real?’

Ben had to bite his lip to stop the smile that was threatening to break out and nodded instead.

‘So, Paul, let me get this straight. You don’t go out much, you haven’t had anyone in your flat, no friends or family for what? At least three months?’ Lucy asked.

‘That’s right.’

‘You don’t like Rachel and you have no idea who put those photos in your fridge?’

The realisation that he had been tricked by Lucy and had screwed up showed in his face and his expression turned to one of fury as his mouth set in a straight line.

‘Then it stands to reason that you either took the photos or you stole them, and you were sacked from the cleaning company for stealing, so this looks like an open or shut case to me. Rachel Derry was found deceased in her flat and all the evidence leads back to you, and you just stated for the record that nobody has been inside your flat for three months. If you look closely on the back of the photographs someone has written a date on there.’ Lucy turned the evidence bag over so he could see the small numbers in black ink with the date.

‘It says “zero three zero six twenty twenty-six” that was three weeks ago. My question to you is how they ended up inside your fridge, under your out of date chicken that, by the way, you need to throw away because you’ll poison yourself if you eat it. In a flat that has had no visitors since at least March. I assume by the state of the flat that you don’t have a cleaner yourself because if you did, I’d give them notice. They’re doing a terrible job of it; I hope your cleaning skills at work are much better than at home.’

That was when Paul Graham lost it. He tried to stand up to lunge for Lucy and forgot about his broken leg, so instead he managed to tip himself out of the wheelchair he was sitting in and landed on the floor with a loud bang and the wheelchair on top of him. The duty solicitor, a guy named Brandon, in a too-white shirt and a tie covered in doughnuts, looked horrified as he quickly stepped away from the carnage, shaking his head.

The door opened and Josh looked at the scene in front of him. He went straight to Ben to help him right the wheelchair and lift Paul back into it. As he did so he whispered into Ben’s ear, ‘There’s been another.’

Ben felt all the tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickle as the skin on his arms broke out in goosebumps. Ben looked at Lucy and shook his head, then back to Paul.

‘Are you okay? We’re going to bail you until further notice, don’t try and go anywhere.’

‘Just fuck off. What, are you two the cop equivalent of Max and Paddy? Neither of you is funny so don’t give up your day jobs to be comedians.’

Lucy smiled at him. ‘Great show, I love it, but no, we’re serious, Paul. You’re still under investigation, but you’re free to leave as of now.’

Paul turned to the solicitor, who smiled at him. ‘Well, that’s good news, Mr Graham. Thanks, officers.’

‘Jesus, you’re just as bad as they are. How am I getting home in this state?’

Ben turned to look at him. ‘I’m going to get an officer to drive you home, Paul, just wait here until someone is free to take you or you can ring yourself a taxi.’

He gave Ben the middle finger, then must have changed his mind as he shouted after him, ‘I’ll wait for a lift.’ Adding. ‘Thanks,’ as an afterthought.

The ‘thanks’ was said with lots of animosity, but Ben didn’t care, if there had been another murder the loser was clearly not their guy.

THIRTY-FIVE

Morgan left the unmarked car in a bay that had ‘Emergency Vehicles’ written in huge yellow letters inside of it. If she got a ticket she’d pay it. She rushed inside to see Mac leaning across the reception desk, sipping a vending machine cup of coffee and chatting to the receptionist who was grinning at whatever he was saying. He spied her rushing in and smiled at her. ‘Morgan, you got here fast.’