Lifting the Lid(95)

‘What you don’t seem to understand,’ Logan was saying, ‘is that I’ve got a murder investigation on my hands here.’

‘And I haven’t?’ said Patterson, waving his gun towards the corpse in the overturned armchair.

‘’Scuse me, guv.’

Patterson rounded on his colleague with an expression that reminded Trevor of John McEnroe when he’d just been foot-faulted on match point. ‘What is it, Statham?’

‘Jarvis wants to know if we need any help.’

‘Not unless he’s exceptionally skilled in communicating with the terminally stupid, no.’

‘Righto. And he also says the plods have had a call to investigate an anonymous tipoff about a murder in Flat 12.’

‘This very one in fact,’ said Patterson with heavy sarcasm.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Oh terrific. So much for covert bloody operations. I don’t know why we don’t just send out invitations.’

‘And send for a fucking ambulance while you’re at it. I’m bleedin’ to death ‘ere.’

Trevor had almost forgotten about Harry, his constant moans and groans having merged into the background some time ago.

Patterson ignored him. ‘Tell the plods to report back that they’ve checked it out and there’s nothing doing. False alarm.’

Logan began to splutter his dissent, but Patterson ignored him too. Instead, he wiped a weary palm across his face and stared down at the floor. After several seconds, he looked up. ‘Listen, Hogan, I’ll tell you what I’ll do—’

‘Logan.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Patterson with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘Now, whilst I would dearly love to take these two for a long walk off a short pier somewhere, I’m prepared to make you a deal.’

Trevor was in no doubt as to who he meant by “these two”, although he wasn’t at all convinced he was going to like Patterson’s alternative proposal any more than the short pier one. He gave Sandra a fleeting look to gauge her reaction, but there was none.

‘You can have your wife murderer and his girlfriend,’ Patterson continued, ‘so long as you all bugger off right now and forget everything you’ve seen or heard. No dead MP. No Harry Vincent. No nothing. Okay?’

I suppose it could be worse, Trevor thought, the heat rising in his cheeks as he heard Sandra referred to as his girlfriend for the second time in less than an hour. It was pretty clear now that Patterson really was MI5 and that he was seriously pissed off with him and Sandra. He had no idea what he really meant by the short pier thing, but he was sure it wouldn’t have been pleasant, so escaping his clutches was definitely the preferred option. The same went for Harry in spades. Trevor was very well aware of what he would do if he got his hands on them, but judging by his current state, it seemed unlikely that this particularly gory scenario would ever be played out. That just left Logan and the murder thing. Yeah, just.

DS Logan was putting up a variety of objections to Patterson’s offer and firing off a host of questions, but Patterson was having none of it. Trevor had already sussed Logan as the sort of person who hated anyone getting the better of him when they were back at Janice’s, but he guessed this was simply a show of bravado before he eventually backed down. He did, and he was partway through his not-at-all-happy-about-this-but capitulation speech when there was a loud bleeping sound from somewhere in the kitchen area.

Statham hurried over from the window and flipped open the lid of a small notebook computer which was lying on top of the breakfast bar.

‘Oops,’ he said. ‘Seems like the boss wants a word.’

Patterson sighed and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Oh Christ, that’s all I need. – Tell her I’m busy and find out what she wants. In fact, don’t let her know I’m here at all. – And use the earpiece. I don’t want all this lot listening in.’

Statham fished in his pocket and took out a thin black lead, inserting one end into the notebook and the other into his ear. He pressed a button and leaned forward to peer at the screen, supporting himself with both hands on the edge of the work surface. ‘Evening, ma’am.’

‘Are you listening to me?’ said Logan, breaking off from his speech when he realised that Patterson’s attention was now exclusively devoted to Statham and the back of the notebook screen.

‘No. So shut up.’

The expression of stunned rage on Logan’s mug was a joy to behold. Trevor had no reason to favour either of these two men over the other, but Logan was the one who reminded him most of the playground bullies he’d had to suffer in his childhood, and it was always good to see one of those bastards get their comeuppance. He smiled to himself as the image of the enormous dog from the Tom and Jerry cartoons superimposed itself onto Logan’s face, snarling and growling and with steam gushing from its ears.