a way that was above and beyond the call of anyone’s duty. The clipped privet and bright white paintwork made Pepper feel inadequate, but also slightly repelled, somehow.
Copeland knocked, stood back, and waited. He grinned when, at the third time of knocking, the door opened, revealing a slight young man in jeans that looked as if he was still putting them on - though it was hard to tell as they rode so low - and a T-shirt promoting a band, or possibly a video game, that Copeland had never heard of.
‘We’re police officers. I’m DC Rex Copeland, and this is acting DI Wilson. Can we come in for a minute?’
‘No. What’s this about?’
‘Your dad’s car. Look it’s nothing to worry about. Just a routine enquiry.’
‘You can’t come in. I know my rights.’
‘Of course you do. We just wanted to ask you if you ever drive your parent’s car? It’s not such a hard question, is it?’
‘Aye, I drive it sometimes. Now, is that it?’
The lad swung the door closed, or almost closed. He looked down, and saw the shiny end of Copeland’s shoe on the doormat.
‘Look, Micky, I know that you haven’t been in any trouble before, so you probably don’t know how this works. But we’ve got a legal right to ask you our questions, and we will. Now we can either do that inside, or you can come with us to the station, right now. It’s your choice. But it’s the only choice you have, I’m afraid.’
The door swung open.
‘Come in, then.’
Rex stood aside and let Pepper go first. Micky Thompson led them into the kitchen. It was small, tidy, and blindingly clean. But then the lad obviously hadn’t had his breakfast yet.
‘What do you do, Micky?’
‘I thought you wanted to know about dad’s car.’
‘We do. Have you used it recently?’
‘Aye, a few times. He’s such a stingy bastard though, always complaining about me using his petrol, and all that.’
‘That’s dads for you.’ Copeland smiled, but the lad didn’t. ‘Have you been to a place on the industrial estate called Martin Brothers?’
The lad wasn’t making any eye contact. But then he hadn’t been, not from the very start.
‘Martin Brothers? Aye, I did, actually. I was asking about a job they’d advertised.’
‘Any luck?’
A shrug. ‘Never heard. But you never do, do you? They don’t give a shit, any of them.’
Copeland was going to ask another question, but Pepper’s phone was ringing, and when he turned towards her, she gestured that they should go. She walked quickly back down the hall, and Copeland said his brief goodbyes and followed her.
‘That was Davey Hood’, she said, ‘he wants to meet.’
‘What, now?’
‘Aye, now. Come on, his mum’s place is only five minutes away. Chop, chop, Rex.’
He grinned. ‘You know it’s probably borderline racist, saying that?’
‘Is it? All right then. How about this? Get a bloody move on, Rex, or I’ll send you back where you came from.’
‘Tottenham?’
‘Exactly. And you wouldn’t want that, would you? Not now you’ve had a taste of the good life up here, like.’
Copeland laughed. ‘Christ, you really believe that shit, don’t you, Pepper?. But what about the lad? Anything?’
‘Couldn’t pull the skin off a rice pudding, love.’
‘Did you see that bruise, on his face?’
‘Aye, I did. Probably fell off his skateboard, or his BMX, or something.’
Copeland drove, following Pepper’s arm-waving directions.
‘Why does he want a meet?’, asked Rex, as he was parking.
‘I suggested it, last night. What happened to Linda, that changes everything.’
‘I hope you’re not going to share any privileged intel with him, Pepper.’
‘Like what? We’ve got sod all to share. No, it’s just a chat, like, that’s all it is.’
Hood opened the front door before Copeland had reached it, and the two men shook hands. Pepper held out her hand as well, and Hood shook.
‘Sitting room’, he said. ‘Mum’s
Copeland knocked, stood back, and waited. He grinned when, at the third time of knocking, the door opened, revealing a slight young man in jeans that looked as if he was still putting them on - though it was hard to tell as they rode so low - and a T-shirt promoting a band, or possibly a video game, that Copeland had never heard of.
‘We’re police officers. I’m DC Rex Copeland, and this is acting DI Wilson. Can we come in for a minute?’
‘No. What’s this about?’
‘Your dad’s car. Look it’s nothing to worry about. Just a routine enquiry.’
‘You can’t come in. I know my rights.’
‘Of course you do. We just wanted to ask you if you ever drive your parent’s car? It’s not such a hard question, is it?’
‘Aye, I drive it sometimes. Now, is that it?’
The lad swung the door closed, or almost closed. He looked down, and saw the shiny end of Copeland’s shoe on the doormat.
‘Look, Micky, I know that you haven’t been in any trouble before, so you probably don’t know how this works. But we’ve got a legal right to ask you our questions, and we will. Now we can either do that inside, or you can come with us to the station, right now. It’s your choice. But it’s the only choice you have, I’m afraid.’
The door swung open.
‘Come in, then.’
Rex stood aside and let Pepper go first. Micky Thompson led them into the kitchen. It was small, tidy, and blindingly clean. But then the lad obviously hadn’t had his breakfast yet.
‘What do you do, Micky?’
‘I thought you wanted to know about dad’s car.’
‘We do. Have you used it recently?’
‘Aye, a few times. He’s such a stingy bastard though, always complaining about me using his petrol, and all that.’
‘That’s dads for you.’ Copeland smiled, but the lad didn’t. ‘Have you been to a place on the industrial estate called Martin Brothers?’
The lad wasn’t making any eye contact. But then he hadn’t been, not from the very start.
‘Martin Brothers? Aye, I did, actually. I was asking about a job they’d advertised.’
‘Any luck?’
A shrug. ‘Never heard. But you never do, do you? They don’t give a shit, any of them.’
Copeland was going to ask another question, but Pepper’s phone was ringing, and when he turned towards her, she gestured that they should go. She walked quickly back down the hall, and Copeland said his brief goodbyes and followed her.
‘That was Davey Hood’, she said, ‘he wants to meet.’
‘What, now?’
‘Aye, now. Come on, his mum’s place is only five minutes away. Chop, chop, Rex.’
He grinned. ‘You know it’s probably borderline racist, saying that?’
‘Is it? All right then. How about this? Get a bloody move on, Rex, or I’ll send you back where you came from.’
‘Tottenham?’
‘Exactly. And you wouldn’t want that, would you? Not now you’ve had a taste of the good life up here, like.’
Copeland laughed. ‘Christ, you really believe that shit, don’t you, Pepper?. But what about the lad? Anything?’
‘Couldn’t pull the skin off a rice pudding, love.’
‘Did you see that bruise, on his face?’
‘Aye, I did. Probably fell off his skateboard, or his BMX, or something.’
Copeland drove, following Pepper’s arm-waving directions.
‘Why does he want a meet?’, asked Rex, as he was parking.
‘I suggested it, last night. What happened to Linda, that changes everything.’
‘I hope you’re not going to share any privileged intel with him, Pepper.’
‘Like what? We’ve got sod all to share. No, it’s just a chat, like, that’s all it is.’
Hood opened the front door before Copeland had reached it, and the two men shook hands. Pepper held out her hand as well, and Hood shook.
‘Sitting room’, he said. ‘Mum’s
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