I nodded. “Of course, but there was one particular guest I was with most of the evening. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind verifying my story.”
Cartwright looked a little pissed at the news, but not as pissed as he’ll be in the next few seconds. Poised with his pen ready, Cartwright looked down at his notepad. “Okay. Who was this person?”
With a megawatt smile, I thrummed my fingers on the sofa’s armchair. “I don’t think you need to write his name down. You all know him fairly well. The name’s Carmichael. Aidan Carmichael.”
Cartwright looked up, a shocked expression plastered all over his face. Snot-nosed Tomlinson just stared, his mouth wide open.
“You mean Chief Superintendent Aidan Carmichael?”
I smiled with a nod, then leaned forward. “The one and only,” I said in a whisper before I gave them a cheeky wink. I know shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t fucking help myself.
“He was here from around ten o’clock, I believe, and didn’t leave until about four in the morning. I was a little late showing up because I had a meeting with a business associate of mine at Buddies in Soho. I was there until about ten. I was certainly home by ten-thirty, then I stayed in the whole night. Carmichael can certainly vouch for that.”
Cartwright smiled resolutely, slightly shaking his head as he wrote all this down. “Okay,” he said, rising out of his seat. His little shadow soon followed suit and I knew that was my cue to be polite and show them to the door.
“I will go and speak with Chief Superintendent Carmichael when I get back. In the meantime, if you could write down a list of names of the other people that were here with you, that would be great.”
I smiled and nodded my head. “Sure thing. If you leave me your number, I’ll get it faxed over to you by this afternoon.”
Cartwright dipped into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “That would be great. Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.”
I nodded. “No problem at all. You have a good day now.” I shook both their hands, but didn’t offer a goodbye smile to the snot-nosed kid. He was too busy being pissed off that he wasn’t carting me off in his brand new shiny little handcuffs that hung from the brand new shiny belt of his.
They left and I watched as they drove away. I couldn’t help the little wave I gave them as they went.
“You have no shame,” Humphrey whispered to me from behind.
I turned, noticing him shaking his head as he laughed. I couldn’t help the smile that formed. “What?” I asked, trying to act all innocent.
“Nothing,” he said, laughing a little louder. “It just somehow scares me just how much you’re like your father, but even more cunning. No wonder you get away with murder.”
I knew he was trying to be funny, so I just laughed along with him. “Fuck off, old man,” I replied jokingly. “Haven’t you got a certain lady friend you should be visiting now?” I looked at him a little quizzically. Humphrey had been dating this woman named Sonia who owned a clothes shop in Ealing. He was loved up and he knew it.
He looked at the time, then back up. “Hmm, I suppose I should be getting ready.”
I shook my head. “And you say I’m pussy-whipped.”
Humphrey waved a finger at me. “Ah, yes, but the difference is that I admit it. You wouldn’t.”
I shook my head and turned to leave, but Humphrey said, “If you have any problems with Carmichael later, let me know.”
I nodded. “I’m sure I can handle Carmichael, but thanks.”
I waved and took to the stairs to take a shower. No doubt the cops would be on their way back to the station by now, and their first stop would probably be to their chief superintendent. It made me smile a little. I had known Aidan Carmichael for a little over five years now. I followed him, got to know all his habits, his strengths, his weaknesses. What he liked, what he didn’t like. I took it all in, then “accidently” bumped into him at a bar one evening. His favourite team, Chelsea, was playing that night, and I pretended to be the ever-loyal fan that I knew he was. We got along splendidly. I invited him to functions and he invited me to his house to meet his wife, Cynthia, and his two daughters, Kerry and Maisy. I had never been interested in the weasel. He had a wife and two kids at home, but preferred to go out, use his status as a chief superintendent, and screw anyone he could get his hands on. I loathed men like that. If there was one thing I could definitely say about my father, it was that he had a lot of respect for women, and an even deeper respect for my mother. He doted on her and would constantly tell me how important it was to respect a woman. “When you find a good woman like your mother, you never once take advantage of the fact she is always there. And you never once stop looking at her without thinking just how goddamned lucky you are to have her. Every second you cherish, every moment never wasted. You treat her as you wish to be treated yourself. But I’ll tell you something else, son. That doesn’t mean you take no prisoners. You have to give respect when earned. If you find someone and she lets you down, don’t ever let her see she broke you. You stand tall, head held high, and you show her that a Scozzari never gets fucked over.”