form – whatever I’ve forgotten, do it. Lastly, I want Gauld tailed. I want to know everything he does every minute of the day and night, and when he goes out on his next killing job, we grab him, and if he’s got his bloody knife on him, that’s all the proof I need.’
In the corridor, he collided with Detective Sergeant Gilmore who looked as happy as his inspector.
‘We’ve got a full statement from Mrs Compton, Inspector.’
‘Thank God for that, son. I was afraid I might have to perjure myself at her trial.’
‘She admits everything, but says the husband’s death was an accident.’
‘How? Did she accidentally welt him round the head with one of her rigid nipples?’
A broad grin from Gilmore. Anything Frost said was funny today. ‘Thanks for your help,’ he added sincerely.
‘All I did was tell a few lies,’ demurred the inspector. ‘Any self-respecting policeman would do the same.’
‘And after your stunt with the leaves,’ added Gilmore, ‘I got Forensic to go over the boot of Mark Compton’s car. We actually found a couple of leaves from the wreath.’
‘That’s what’s known as nature imitating art,’ said Frost. ‘When you get a minute, see me in the office. I’ll update you on the Ripper case. We’re nearly ready to nail the bastard.’
In the office, weighed down in the centre of his desk by a stapling machine, was the memo from County beefing about the balls-up with his car expenses. He screwed it into a tight ball, tossed it in the air and headed it towards the open goal of the waste bin. It dropped dead centre with a satisfying plonk. He beamed happily. Things were starting to go right.
Later, when everything blew up in his face, he would remember this brief moment of euphoria.
Thursday night shift (1)
The downstairs light went out. A pause, then the upstairs light came on and the silhouette of a man passed the window. Gilmore ducked down behind the steering wheel until the curtains were closed and the bedroom light went out. He shook Frost awake. ‘He’s gone to bed.’
Yawning heavily, Frost consulted his watch. A few minutes to midnight. They had been parked down the side turning for nearly two hours, since taking over from Burton. Gauld had collected a party of senior citizens from the Silver Star Bingo Club at nine o’clock, and had delivered them all safely back to their homes by 9.56. He had then driven his grey Vauxhall Astra back to his terraced house in Nelson Street and was indoors by 10.15.
Frost fidgeted and tried to get comfortable. He was tired and hungry and there was no chance of a relief until six a.m. His fault. He had forgotten to ask Mullett to authorize more overtime and Wells was playing it by the book. He smeared a gap in the misted windscreen with his cuff and peered out at the still, dark street. ‘It’s too late for him to murder anyone now,’ he decided. ‘Let’s get ourselves something to eat. I know a place that’s open all night.’
The ‘place’ Frost knew was a converted van selling hot dogs and hamburgers on a windswept stretch of waste ground near the cemetery. The stale greasy smell of frying onions slapped them round the face as they got out of the car. On the side of the van a drop-down flap provided a serving counter and a canvas awning sheltered the clientele from the worst of the weather. Behind the counter a tall, thin man with a melancholy face and a red, running nose sucked at a cigarette as he pushed some onion slices around the fat with a fork.
‘Lord Lucan and party,’ announced Frost. ‘We did book.’
‘Very funny,’ said the man, pulling the cigarette from his mouth so he could cough all over the food. He banged two cups on the counter, dropped a tea-bag in each and filled them with hot water from a steam-belching urn.
They sipped the scalding tea while the man fried them two hamburgers in tired, spitting fat. It was a cold night with the wind flapping the canvas awning.
‘You caught that girl’s killer yet?’ asked the owner, putting the burgers on a plate and sliding them over.
Frost lifted the top of his bun and peered suspiciously at the onion-topped meat sinking in a puddle of fat. ‘We’re on a different case, Harry. Suspect meat sold as hamburger filling.’ He took a tentative bite and chewed cautiously. ‘I hope yours comes from a legitimate source?’