Asking for the Moon by Reginald Hill Page B

his wife's clothes missing. So they check the possibilities. Friends, relatives, etc. - that's where we first came in. Her passport's still at home. A month later she's made no drawing upon her bank account. So now Willie Dove moves in hard.'
    'Started digging up the garden and chipping at the garage floor, did he?' said Dalziel.
    'He probably would have done except that they lived in a flat and he parked his car in the street,' said Pascoe. 'But he found nothing.'
    'So what's he think?'
    'He thinks Swithenbank's a clever bugger and has got the body safely stashed. He's kept on at him ever since, but nothing.'
    'So why's he think Swithenbank's the man?'
    'Intuition, I suppose.'
    Dalziel snorted in disgust.
    'Intuition! Evidence plus an admission, that's what makes detective work. I hope I never hear you using that word, Peter!'
    Pascoe smiled weakly and said, 'He's not making a big thing out of it. He just feels in his bones that some time between leaving the party and getting to Nottingham, Swithenbank did the deed and disposed of the body.'
    'What's wrong with the night before?' asked Dalziel. 'Put her in the boot. That'd explain his bit of depression that morning.'
    'So it would,' said Pascoe. 'Except. . .'
    'All right, clever bugger,' growled Dalziel. 'What's up?'
    'Except, she went to the hairdresser's on Friday morning. Last reported sighting,' said Pascoe.
    Dalziel was silent for a while.
    'I ought to thump hell out of you twice a day,' he said finally. 'I take it because you've said nowt much about it that this Nottingham visit was confirmed.'
    'Yes,' said Pascoe. 'Jake Starr, some science fiction writer. He was doing a bit on Jules Verne for Swithenbank's Masters of Literature series. He confirmed Swithenbank arrived a lot later than arranged, about eight p.m. They worked - and ate - till the early hours. Got up late the next morning. Swithenbank left after lunch. We know he was back in Enfield by five.'
    Dalziel pondered.
    'All we've got really is a cockney cop's feeling that he did it. Right?'
    'And the phone calls. And the letter and ear-ring.'
    Dalziel dismissed these with a two-fingered wave of his left hand.
    'This lass who turned up today. His fancy piece, you reckon?'
    'Could be,' said Pascoe cautiously.
    'Perhaps she's the other lass in the poem, that Psyche.'
    'I think Psyche represents the poetic soul,' said Pascoe.
    'Poetic arsehole,' said Dalziel scornfully. 'What's it say? - so I pacified Psyche and kissed her. That sounds like flesh and blood to me. Mind you, if she is his fancy woman, it's a funny thing to do, bringing her up to Wearton like that. It's like flaunting it a bit, wouldn't you say?'
    Pascoe indicated that he would say. Jean Starkey had been much occupying his mind since he left Wearton that morning. He had made a note of her car number and asked for it to be traced as soon as he got back to the station, but since vehicle licensing had been computerized, this process could now take several hours.
    'Well, it all seems bloody thin to me,' said Dalziel, rising from his chair and scratching his left buttock preparatory to departure. 'Some old mate trying to stir things for Swithenbank. Did you check on his old acquaintance in the village?'
    'Didn't have a chance this morning,' said Pascoe. 'I had to be back here for a meeting at lunch-time. But I'll go back, I suppose, and have a word. Or send Sergeant Wield.'
    'That's it,' approved Dalziel. 'Delegate. You've got plenty to keep you occupied, I hope. Our problems. This is nowt but an "assist", after all.'
    'If Kate Swithenbank's lying in a hole near Wearton, it's more than an assist!' protested Pascoe.
    'If Jack the bloody Ripper's opening the batting for Yorkshire (and I sometimes think the buggers who are look old enough), it's still someone else's case,' said Dalziel. 'They'll be open in an hour. You can pay for my help with a pint."
    'Dear at half the price,' muttered Pascoe as the fat man lumbered from the room.
    He spent the next twenty