drive himself home?’
Bradshaw got the impression she already knew the answer to that question. ‘He said there was something wrong with his car.’
‘He said or there was?’ she asked, but he wasn’t daft enough to go there.
‘Both, I assumed.’
‘Mmm. And what did you talk about on the way to his house?’
‘Ma’am?’ He put deliberate bafflement into his tone, as if he couldn’t imagine why she would want to know that. Bradshaw wanted to tell her it was none of her business but he suspected that would get him into a whole new world of trouble. ‘Nothing much, but he did ask me about my future and aspirations.’ Bradshaw hoped he might be on safe ground with that.
‘Did he now? And what did you say?’
‘I said I was happy where I was for the time being.’
‘Why? Don’t you want to get on?’ Tennant asked sharply.
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘So when a senior officer asks you about your future you tell him you’re happy to stay put?’ The raised eyebrows told him she was unimpressed.
‘I just meant I was in no particular hurry.’
‘DCI Kane won’t mistake you for an overly ambitious officer then.’ And she left that thought hanging. ‘So where have you been this morning?’
‘Following up on a lead.’ He wasn’t about to tell her he was staking out Tom Carney’s home for DCI Kane so instead gave her his theory about the burned girl having a tattoo. He had been keeping this to himself until now but it was a useful smokescreen
She listened and when he had finished his explanation said, ‘That’s useful,’ though she sounded uncertain, as if surprised he could have come up with it. ‘That’s good work.’
‘Will that be all, ma’am?’ he asked stiffly.
Kate Tennant sighed her exasperation. ‘Just get back to work, Ian.’
Mark Birkett lived on a building site. His house was the only completed property in a cul-de-sac full of newbuilds. There were twenty houses on the development, in varying stages of completion, and they flanked a curving, half-finished road that had rough foundations but no tarmacadam to smooth it over, so the drainage and manhole covers stuck up out of the road, causing Tom Carney’s car to bump all the way along Runnymede Lane. It had rained that morning and slick wet mud clung to Tom’s tyres. He parked outside the only house with a roof, got out of his car and knocked on the door.
‘You found me then,’ Birkett observed sullenly. ‘Most people don’t.’
Tom had phoned to explain his interest in Richard Bell’s case. He got the impression Birkett had allowed him to come round because he couldn’t think of a good reason to prevent it but he didn’t look pleased to see Tom.
The house was small and neat; a decent starter home for a young family. Tom was invited into a tiny lounge, which barely had room for an armchair, sofa and a TV.
‘I understand you and Richard were close,’ said Tom.
‘Not really.’
‘But you were best man at his wedding.’
‘Someone had to be. I wouldn’t say I was any closer to Richard than a number of blokes who went to college with him. We hung out in the same group of friends, went out drinking together but I barely saw him after university. A couple of years after graduating, he called me up, told me he was getting married and wanted me to be best man.’
‘Were you surprised?’
‘At the best man bit? Yes, but not about the getting married part.’
‘Why do you say that? Seems a bit young these days.’
‘It was logical. He already had everything he wanted.’
‘So it wasn’t just because he was in love with the girl?’
‘Who said he was in love with her.’ Birkett looked a little uncomfortable then. ‘Look, I’ve nothing against Annie but I wouldn’t say it was a normal romance, it was more—’
‘A meeting of minds,’ offered Tom sarcastically, ‘or a marriage of convenience?’
‘When he married Annie he got the full package: the woman with the brains and the career, the job with her old man’s firm; her dad already got them a big house. I think he bought into all of it, that’s all. I think he married Annie because he didn’t want to jeopardise things.’
‘Are you saying he didn’t love her?’
‘I have no idea if he loved her or not. I’m saying he married the boss’s daughter. The rest of us were out there trying to get a leg-up in our first jobs, paying off student debts, renting tiny rooms in crappy, shared houses.