‘Possibly—Avery couldn’t tell. He had no reason to be looking in the first place.’
‘God, Arthur, it’s not much to go on, is it? An anonymous visitor with rotten dress sense. Why did he recall the coat?’
‘He remembered thinking it didn’t fit properly. The weather broke on Sunday evening,’ Bryant reminded him. ‘It rained solidly for several hours. Avery was on the other side of the road and didn’t get a good look—you know how it’s difficult to concentrate when you’re carrying a box of fried chicken—but he can at least place the time close to Ruth Singh’s death.’
‘So the verdict’s been settled, and now you have a possible suspect. You do realize that we can’t go any further beyond this point.’
‘Understood,’ Bryant agreed. ‘Absolutely against the rules, not worth the risk, we’re publicly accountable, God knows what would happen if Raymond Land found out.’ He patted various pockets for his pipe, his shredded winter-mixture and his matches. ‘Don’t worry, I fully appreciate that the case is now “officially” off limits.’
May heard the parenthesis in his partner’s voice and bridled. ‘Arthur, wait! You come back here!’ But Bryant’s selective deafness had muffled everything except a song from the first act of The Gondoliers, which he hummed as he set off for the freedom of the fire escape.
May walked to the window and wiped a clear arc through the condensation, looking down into the glistening street. He needed to think of another way to keep the unit fully occupied until the Met’s senior officers stopped eyeing up his bright new team. Luckily, it didn’t take him long to think of a solution.
8
* * *
RISING VAPOURS
‘Oh God, this is so disgusting.’
Meera Mangeshkar found herself holding a pair of paisley-pattern Y-fronts as large as a shopping bag. ‘What kind of man chucks his pants in the dustbin? Is this the best job May could find to keep us out of circulation?’ Rooting carefully within the bin, she pulled out the remains of a Marks & Spencer family fruit pie, some haddock heads, a broken pink dental plate and a brassiere, the cups of which were filled with sponge cake. ‘I haven’t been given rubbish duty for years.’
She and Bimsley were on their knees in the back garden of a house in Belsize Park, sifting through half a dozen binliners. Under normal circumstances, the bags would have been removed and examined at a secure site because of the danger from contaminated sharp waste, but Banbury’s steel micromesh gloves were proving a success, even though they were cold to wear. It was nearly one a.m., and the hours they spent here would be added to the next shift’s time-sheet, protecting them further from requisition.
‘Pass me your torch—mine’s fading.’ Bimsley held up an empty jar and sniffed it. ‘Foie gras—goose, not duck. There was a magnum of Veuve Cliquot earlier. He’s been living well.’
Meera narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You know Arthur Bryant only made you finish the doorstepping in Balaklava Street because the victim’s brother is a mate of his. He’s granting preferential treatment to his pals.’
‘Let it go, Meera. I don’t know what you’re so angry about. There was no one else around to do them, and besides, I don’t mind if it reduces duty like this. I got interviews with all three remaining residents, and one of them told me Ruth Singh had received a visitor that night. So it was worth going back. Information that could lead to an arrest, as they say.’
‘Yeah, right, that’ll happen.’
‘Well done, Meera, a triple positive to make an emphatic negative—nice use of English.’
‘What are you, my grammar coach? Nobody likes a smart-arse.’ Meera sat back on her haunches and raised the white polystyrene mask from her mouth. She made a sour moue as she tipped the last of the bag’s reeking contents on to the grass. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if I made the wrong decision in transferring.’
‘Bryant thinks this sort of work is character-building,’ Bimsley assured her. ‘When he gets his teeth into something, he won’t let go. Even when the cases are cold and closed, he’ll go back in and find something new. They say he and May never officially accepted senior titles because they didn’t want to become separated from groundwork.’
‘Well I’m used to a proper hierarchy, teams and briefings, method stuff without too many nasty surprises. Instead, I’m on my knees searching through garbage. I’m not even sure what we’re meant to be looking for.’