Lazy Bones (23 page)

'This bloke, though? He's off the fucking scale...' ,

'You doing anything tonight?' Hendricks wiped his mouth. 'I could

come over.'

'What?'

Hendricks glanced across to where the waitresses were gathered near the til . 'I'm changing the subject. Before they cal the police.'

'They're staring because of what you look like, mate, not because of our interesting table conversation. And no, you can't come over. I'm meeting someone a lot better looking than you.'

'Surely not.'

'With no embarrassing piercings...'

Hendricks grinned. 'You never know. She might have them in special, secret places.'

The waitress was there again. She took the plate from in front of Hendricks. He'd left a perfect ring of pizza crust.

'You won't get curly hair,' Thorne said.

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Hendricks ran a hand across his shaved head. 'With the look I'm cultivating, that's not real y a problem...'

The afternoon had bled into the evening and by the time Thorne pushed through to where Eve was sitting, at a smal table next to the cigarette machine, it was almost last orders. Plenty of time to get through a bottle of wine between them. For Thorne to apologise for messing her about, and for Eve to tel him he was being stupid. More than enough time for Thorne to tel her almost nothing about the sort of day he'd had.

It was a smal , friendly pub near the Hackney Empire. They stepped out on to Mare Street and looked up and down the road. They fastened unnecessary buttons on jackets, studied parked cars, fil ing up a suddenly awkward moment.

Eve stepped over to him, put her hands on his shoulders. 'Now, about that snog...'

Thorne didn't need asking twice.

They kissed, his hand's moving around her waist and hers to the back of his head and neck. She bit softly on his lower lip. He pushed the tip of his tongue into the gap between her teeth.

Then his mouth

widened into a grin and they leaned away from each other.

'I knew you were wel up for it,' Thorne said.

She dropped her hand down, gave his backside a good hard squeeze. 'I'm wel up for anything.' They were a few minutes' walk from Eve's flat A short bus or cab journey from Thorne's.

This wasn't the reason for the uncertainty which Eve saw in Thorne's expression.

'You stil haven't bought a new bed, have you?' she said.

Thorne tried his best to look like a guilty schoolboy. He imagined

that it made him look endearing. 'I haven't had time...'

She grabbed his hand and they began to walk.

'I've only real y had last Sunday and there was al manner of shit that needed doing.' Thorne decided not to elaborate. He didn't explain 188

that the shit in question had involved replacing his stereo system and those twenty-five or so CDs that he real y couldn't do without. Spending his nights curled up on the sofa as he was, some people might have questioned his priorities. With the prospect of a night curled up with Eve Bloom looking distinctly achievable, even he had to agree that they seemed completely bonkers.

They walked a little way up Mare Street and then turned left, crossing the railway line and cutting across London Fields. The night wasn't as muggy as some had been recently, but it was They walked a little way up Mare Street and then turned left, crossing the railway line and cutting across London Fields. The night wasn't as muggy as some had been recently, but it was stil warm. There were plenty of people around.

'You're not waiting for the insurance, are you?' Eve asked suddenly. 'What?'

'To pay for a new bed.'

Thorne laughed. 'I think I can run to a new bed. It's actual y only a new mattress so it won't break the bank. I'l need the insurance to sort out a new car though. I'm getting pissed off with buses, and bangers

from the car-pool...' ,

'What are you going to get?' ,

Thorne wasn't sure whether he'd spent more time the previous week on the phone chasing the insurance company or sitting at his kitchen table poring over car magazines. 'I'm not real y bothered,' he said.

Eve leaned in close to Thorne to let a jogger go past. 'Do coppers fiddle their insurance like everybody else?'

'Wel , fiddle is putting it a bit strong. I may have got the make and model of the stereo ever so slightly wrong. Al right, and the price. I might have thrown the odd boxed set in when I was doing my CD inventory, but luck 'em, I probably forgot stuff as wel .'

They walked on in silence for a minute or so and then stopped at the edge of the park. They watched a group of lads having a kick about, floodlighting courtesy of a couple of lamp-post; and a ful moon.

Thorne remembered the game he'd watched just over a week earlier.

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The park near the hotel in Slough. That one had been just before a post-mortem...

'There was another body today,' Thorne said. 'Wel , last night and

today. That's why I had to cancel.'

Eve squeezed his hand. 'Is it the same man? The one who left the message on my machine?'

They moved away from the game and out on to the road that ran paral el to the one where Eve lived and worked.

'He kil s men who have assaulted women,' Thorne said. 'Who've

raped them and been to prison for it. The one we found yesterday was slightly different, but that's basical y what he does. Fucked if I know why he does it, or when he's going to do it again, and fucked if I know

how I'm going to stop him.'

'So don't.'

Thorne laughed. Stared at the pavement. Stepped around the dogshit. 'I'm not the one who decides...'

'It's not like he's chopping up old ladies, is it?'

They turned on to a mal side street, and walked slowly up the middle of the road.

Hand in hand, at arm's length.

'I'm always reading about how stretched police resources are,' Eve

said. 'So why not use them on something a bit more worthwhile?' 'More worthwhile than a murderer?' 'Yeah, but look at who he's murdering...'

Thorne took a deep breath. He shouldn't have said anything. He did

not want to get into this. 'Look, whatever you think about what those men had done, whatever any of us thinks, they'd been to prison for it. I haven't got a lot of respect for the legal system, but surely...'

'Al right. Just think of this bloke as cutting reoffending rates then.' Thorne looked at her. She was smiling, but there was something set around her eyes. She clearly felt strongly about what she was saying, and Thorne knew that it was tough to argue with. 'I can't think like that, Eve. I can't go down that road...'

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'As a police officer, you mean? Or just.., personal y?'

They emerged from the side street. Eve's shop stood in darkness on the corner opposite. Thorne's change of gear was as grinding as the one he'd picked Hendricks up for at lunchtime.

'Listen, just how much of a problem would it real y be with Denise? If I was to stay?'

Eve sighed heavily. 'I told you. She gets a bit weird...'

'Aren't there nights when she's not there? Doesn't she ever stay at Ben's?' Eve shook her head. 'Why not?'

'I don't know. He's just as batty as she is. Come on, you've seen them together...'

They walked past the shop, stopped at Eve's doorstep. Eve reached into her bag for the door keys.

'She's got no right to tel you who you can have staying,' Thorne said.

Eve pressed her palms against his chest. 'She doesn't exactly tel me. Listen, it's just not worth the hassle.' She grabbed the lapels of Thorne's leather jacket, pul ed him towards her.

'Especial y when you

can just buy a mattress. I could do it for you, if you like...'

They stopped kissing when the front door of Eve's flat suddenly swung open from the inside. Denise stood in the doorway, looking surprised. A figure loomed behind her, and Thorne recognised the man he'd seen working in the florist's that first day he'd been in there.

'Hel o, Eve,' he said.

Denise stepped out into the street. The man fol owed her. 'Keith just dropped round to say he won't be able to make it again on Saturday,' Denise said.

Eve moved forward, put a hand on Keith's shoulder. 'Everything OK, Keith?'

He shook his head, reddening. 'It's difficult...'

Eve turned to Thorne. 'Keith's mum hasn't been wel ...'

The four of them stood there a little awkwardly. Denise's arms were

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bare and she rubbed at them, shivering slightly as a breeze began to pick up.

Keith pul ed on the denim jacket he'd been carrying. 'I'm going home.' He nodded to himself a couple of times, then turned and marched quickly away. The others watched him go.

'I'm going to bed, hon,' Denise said. 'I'm utterly fucked.' She bounded across and threw her arms around Eve's neck. 'See you in the morning...'

Thorne watched as she kissed Eve on both cheeks. He was slightly taken aback when she leaned over and kissed him too. Half on the cheek and half on the mouth.

"Night, Tom...' She turned and stepped smartly back inside the flat, pushing the door behind her until it was almost, but not quite, closed.

Thorne checked his watch. There was probably stil time to make a late bus to Kentish Town or Camden.

'I'd better be getting off as wel ,' he said.

Eve gave him a cod leer. 'You won't be getting off with anyone if you don't buy yourself a bed. I'l take you to IKEA at the weekend...'

'Oh please God, no,' Thorne said'.

Thorne could see Keith striding along the street a hundred yards or so ahead of him. He hung back, trying not to catch up. Feeling awkward, the goodnights having been said, and not wanting to go through it again. Thorne was relieved when he saw Keith turn off on to a side street. Keith looked back and stared at him for a few seconds before he moved out of sight.

When Thorne reached the turning and looked, there was no sign of him.

As he hurried towards the bus stop on Dalston Lane, Thorne admitted something rather puzzling, to himself. He'd asked Eve about staying the night at her place only because of what she'd already told him about Denise. Because he'd known very wel that it wasn't going to happen. He actual y felt comfortable that it hadn't...

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There was a dodgy-looking burger van opposite the bus stop and Thorne was suddenly starving. The late-night bagel bakery was five minutes' walk away. It was a toss-up between food poisoning and the risk of missing the last bus.

Ten minutes later the bus rumbled into view and he was already wishing he hadn't had the burger. As he rummaged in his jacket for the exact change, Thorne wondered why on earth he should be feeling something like relief that he was on his way home alone.

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The man on the machine next to him stopped pedal ing and sat for a few moments, eyes closed, getting his breath back. The man climbed off and walked across to the water fountain.

Stil pedal ing fast, he watched as the man gulped down water, flung his sweat-towel around his neck and walked through into the weights room.

When the song he was listening to had finished, he unplugged his headphones, got off the bike and fol owed him.

Howard Anthony Southern was a creature of habit and woes serious about looking after himself. These two things meant that keeping an eye on him, getting to know him, was not only easy but fairly enjoyable. He worked out anyway, but a few extra hours a week couldn't hurt. It was easy enough to join the same gym and make sure h was here at the same time that Southern was as often as he could. That wasn't always traightforward, of course. Sometimes he couldn't get away, but he'd seen enough to know what he was dealing with.

He knew enough already. That Southern had done what he'd done, that his name was on the list, was more than enough. Stil , it was good to find out a bit more. To know for certain how much stronger than Southern he was, how easy it would be to take him when the time came. To see his face contorted and running with sweat. To glimpse in advance what it would be like as he strained against the ligature...

He walked through into the weights room. Southern was on the pec-fly. He took a seat next to him on the mid-row, began to work.

He could see instantly that Southern was eye#g up a woman on the other side of the room. She was bending and stretching, her flesh taut against the black lycra. Southern pressed his forearms towards each other, grunting with the efJbrt, al the time watching the woman in the mirror that ran along one wal .

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He knew this was why Howard Southern came here.

He wondered if Southern had offended again since his release. Was he more careful having been caught once? He might have been getting away with it for years, is he watching the woman in the mirror and thinking about Jbrcing himself on her? Working himself into a lather, his eyes like sweaty hands on her, convincing himself just how much she wanted it...

The weights dropped back with a clang as Southern released the handles.

He turned and puffed out his cheeks.

'Why do we do it?'

This was a bonus. He'd been planning to talk to Southern today anyway. To strike up a casual conversation at the juice bar maybe, or in the locker rooIl . . .

'It's bloody madness, isn't it?' Southern nodded towards the woman in the black leotard. 'Here I am kil ing myself for the likes of her: He smiled back at Southern, thinking that the idea was right, but that he had an altogether different reason.

195

FOURTEEN

Carol Chamberlain was three-quarters of a team of two.

She had been assigned a research officer, but ex-Detective Sergeant Graham McKee was, to us a favourite phrase of her husband's, about as useful as a chocolate teapot. When he wasn't in the pub, he made it perfectly clear that he thought Carol should have been the one making coffee and phone cal s, while he was out doing the interviews.

A few years ago, she'd have had his undersized bal s on a platter. Now she just got on with doing the job, his as wel as her own. It might take a bit longer, but at least it would get done properly. She believed in that. She couldn't be sure yet, but if the case she was on now had been handled properly first time round, there might wel have been no need for her to be doing anything at al .