lookin ’,
you know, tattoos and piercings, that kind of shit.”
“What were they talking about?”
“Like I said. Break-ins. The old geezer was givin ’ Dmitri an envelope. Cash, it looked like.”
“What did the older man look like?”
“Dunno, really. Old.”
“Short? Tall? Black? White? What?”
“Kinda medium. White, though.”
“Hair?”
“Not a lot. ‘ E had a beard, I
think.”
“Would you recognise him again?”
“Maybe,” shrugged Hitchins.
Chase nodded thoughtfully.
“Where does he live, Darren?” asked Halshaw.
“Who?”
“This Dmitri.”
“Dunno.”
“OK,” she sighed, patiently. “Where could we meet him?”
“The Green Parrot. Y’know , the
boozer on Chiltern View?”
“Your local, is that?” asked Chase.
“Yeah.”
Why am I not surprised, Chase thought.
*
“So how have you been, Halshaw?” asked Chase.
“Very good, Sir,” she replied, inspecting the contents of
her plastic cup suspiciously.
“Don’t you like the coffee?”
“Oh, is that what it’s supposed to be?” she chuckled.
“It’s not great, is it? I’m sorry”
“Don’t worry about it. Our caterers are exactly the same.
There’s probably a factory somewhere that produces special packs of
coffee-flavoured tea and tea-flavoured coffee for police stations, schools, and
hospitals all over the country.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he smiled. “Though it’s probably
got more to do with not washing the urns up properly.”
Her smile faded. “Yes, you’re probably right,” she replied,
flatly.
Chase smiled awkwardly. “Got anywhere to stay yet?” he
asked.
Halshaw’s smile began to return. “My sister Cheryl’s place,
in Camden. You know, where I stayed for the trial last year?”
“Oh yes, I forgot. Sorry. So, how did you manage to get
Darren Hitchins to talk?”
“I didn’t, Sir. Well, not exactly. We were just chatting,
about all kinds of things, and it kind of came up in conversation.”
“Well done,” said Chase, genuinely impressed. “I wish I had
the knack of striking up casual conversations with lowlife like Hitchins.”
Halshaw smiled uncertainly.
“But why did he confide in you about Dmitri?”
Her smile broadened. “We Gooners have to stick together,
Sir!”
“Gooners? Are you telling me you’re an Arsenal fan,
Constable?”
“God, no! I’m a Man U fan, me. But we got onto the subject
of football, I started slagging off Chelsea, Darren decided I was a Gooner, and
let’s just say I didn’t bother to correct him.”
Would Royce call that sharp practice? Chase wondered.
“Who is he, anyway?” she asked.
“Dmitri? Don’t know. I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s heard
of him.”
Halshaw drained the last of the warm brown liquid and tossed
the cup expertly into the recycling bin. “What do you want me to do first?” she
asked. “Shall I check up on Dmitri?”
“He’ll keep,” Chase replied. “I need you to do some digging
on a murder case first. The victim was a woman called Lucy Kelmarsh, also known
as Lucy Faith. She worked as a Life Coach, but she had a sideline as a
dominatrix. A very lucrative sideline, from what I gather. I want a list of her
clients. Get her files from her office and see what you can find.”
“Day job or sideline?”
“Start with the sideline. There shouldn’t be too many of
them. From what she told me, she was pretty exclusive. Oh, and see if you can
find any evidence of disputes, anything like that. When you’ve finished that,
you can start on her legitimate business. OK?”
Halshaw nodded enthusiastically.
“But first, I’d like to take you for a drink somewhere. A
proper drink, not this muck.” He drained his plastic cup and grimaced.
“What did you have in mind, Sir?” she asked, dubiously.
“The Green Parrot, of course. Let’s see what we can find out
about Dmitri.”
6
Halshaw slipped into the front passenger seat of the Mondeo,
slid it back a couple of notches, and stretched
you know, tattoos and piercings, that kind of shit.”
“What were they talking about?”
“Like I said. Break-ins. The old geezer was givin ’ Dmitri an envelope. Cash, it looked like.”
“What did the older man look like?”
“Dunno, really. Old.”
“Short? Tall? Black? White? What?”
“Kinda medium. White, though.”
“Hair?”
“Not a lot. ‘ E had a beard, I
think.”
“Would you recognise him again?”
“Maybe,” shrugged Hitchins.
Chase nodded thoughtfully.
“Where does he live, Darren?” asked Halshaw.
“Who?”
“This Dmitri.”
“Dunno.”
“OK,” she sighed, patiently. “Where could we meet him?”
“The Green Parrot. Y’know , the
boozer on Chiltern View?”
“Your local, is that?” asked Chase.
“Yeah.”
Why am I not surprised, Chase thought.
*
“So how have you been, Halshaw?” asked Chase.
“Very good, Sir,” she replied, inspecting the contents of
her plastic cup suspiciously.
“Don’t you like the coffee?”
“Oh, is that what it’s supposed to be?” she chuckled.
“It’s not great, is it? I’m sorry”
“Don’t worry about it. Our caterers are exactly the same.
There’s probably a factory somewhere that produces special packs of
coffee-flavoured tea and tea-flavoured coffee for police stations, schools, and
hospitals all over the country.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he smiled. “Though it’s probably
got more to do with not washing the urns up properly.”
Her smile faded. “Yes, you’re probably right,” she replied,
flatly.
Chase smiled awkwardly. “Got anywhere to stay yet?” he
asked.
Halshaw’s smile began to return. “My sister Cheryl’s place,
in Camden. You know, where I stayed for the trial last year?”
“Oh yes, I forgot. Sorry. So, how did you manage to get
Darren Hitchins to talk?”
“I didn’t, Sir. Well, not exactly. We were just chatting,
about all kinds of things, and it kind of came up in conversation.”
“Well done,” said Chase, genuinely impressed. “I wish I had
the knack of striking up casual conversations with lowlife like Hitchins.”
Halshaw smiled uncertainly.
“But why did he confide in you about Dmitri?”
Her smile broadened. “We Gooners have to stick together,
Sir!”
“Gooners? Are you telling me you’re an Arsenal fan,
Constable?”
“God, no! I’m a Man U fan, me. But we got onto the subject
of football, I started slagging off Chelsea, Darren decided I was a Gooner, and
let’s just say I didn’t bother to correct him.”
Would Royce call that sharp practice? Chase wondered.
“Who is he, anyway?” she asked.
“Dmitri? Don’t know. I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s heard
of him.”
Halshaw drained the last of the warm brown liquid and tossed
the cup expertly into the recycling bin. “What do you want me to do first?” she
asked. “Shall I check up on Dmitri?”
“He’ll keep,” Chase replied. “I need you to do some digging
on a murder case first. The victim was a woman called Lucy Kelmarsh, also known
as Lucy Faith. She worked as a Life Coach, but she had a sideline as a
dominatrix. A very lucrative sideline, from what I gather. I want a list of her
clients. Get her files from her office and see what you can find.”
“Day job or sideline?”
“Start with the sideline. There shouldn’t be too many of
them. From what she told me, she was pretty exclusive. Oh, and see if you can
find any evidence of disputes, anything like that. When you’ve finished that,
you can start on her legitimate business. OK?”
Halshaw nodded enthusiastically.
“But first, I’d like to take you for a drink somewhere. A
proper drink, not this muck.” He drained his plastic cup and grimaced.
“What did you have in mind, Sir?” she asked, dubiously.
“The Green Parrot, of course. Let’s see what we can find out
about Dmitri.”
6
Halshaw slipped into the front passenger seat of the Mondeo,
slid it back a couple of notches, and stretched
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