Page 63
Story: Making a Killing
‘What?’ says Jean. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘The thing is,’ says Ev eventually, ‘if Daisy went with someone she knew, then maybe shedidknow. That was her big secret: she was going to disappear.’
***
Asante makes sure to be neither first nor last into the incident room. Unlike Quinn, he has no interest in making a splash, and in the circumstances, playing his presence down is probably the better call. He gets a few intrigued glances and gives his name to anyone who asks, but most of them leave him alone.
At ten past nine, Tate arrives in a rush of assumed seniority, and sets the room stirring like a foxed-up henhouse.
‘OK,’ she says, dumping her bag on the floor, ‘let’s get started.’
She throws back her hair to take a theatrical gulp of her barista-bought coffee and waves her other hand in Asante’s direction. ‘As the more observant of you may have realized, we now have an infiltrator from Thames Valley in our midst.’
Asante wonders for a moment about that ‘observant’. After all, it’s practically impossible to miss him: he’s the only black person in the room.
‘Apparently DCI Fawley will be gracing us with his presence later today, should more pressing matters permit.’
No mistaking the sarcasm now.
‘DS Asante arrived last night, so I’ve already brought him up to speed with what we’ve done so far.’ She gestures at the boards.
Asante notices a woman a few feet away raise an eyebrow. She’s staring at the floor and the expression on her face is all but imperceptible. If he’d been looking another way he’d never have seen it. But he wasn’t, and he does.
‘I’m now going to ask him to come forward and take us through the original Daisy Mason case. All things considered, it’s turned into a bit of a bummer for Thames Valley, given they told the world she’d been murdered in 2016.’ She gives an arch look. ‘And we all thought Oxford people were supposed to be so clever. Dear oh dear.’
Some laughter now. It’s a crude tactic, but, Asante has to acknowledge, an effective one.
‘And once he’s done all that,’ continues Tate, ‘he’ll be assigning tasks, so look sharp.’
She looks round the room, the shadow of a wink. ‘If anyone needs me, I’ll be having a manicure, so don’t even think about it.’
***
It’s been eight years, so Ev should have expected him to look different, but Gary Mason is a surprise all the same. She can still see Leo, that scared, sad little boy, hiding inside his long fringe and oversized clothes, and she’s sure Jean Mann can see him too. But the young man who comes into the garden now, the dog jumping ecstatically at his knees, has lost all sense of that lonely kid. He’s not tall, but he’s nice-looking and he holds himself well, head up. Ev flashes a smile at Jean, hoping she knows the small miracle she and her husband have made.
He drops his bag on the grass and takes a step further forward,reaching to pet Basil with one hand, shielding his eyes against the sun. ‘Mum? You OK?’
‘I’m fine, love,’ says Jean quickly.
Ev notes that ‘Mum’ and the fact that his first concern is for her, which would say a lot for any teenager, never mind one with this past.
She holds out a hand. ‘Gary? You probably won’t remember me –’
He frowns a little. ‘No, I do – you’re police, right?’
‘That’s right – I’m DS Verity Everett. This is my colleague, DC Sargent.’
There’s a flash of humour in his eyes at that. ‘That must get confusing.’
Sargent grins. ‘Yeah, just my luck to choose this job.’
He looks from her to Ev and back again. ‘So what’s this about?’
Jean holds out a hand. ‘Come and sit down, love. I’ll go and get another glass.’
She heads off to the kitchen and Gary pulls out a chair and sits down, Basil settling happily under the table with a dog sigh.
‘It’s about Daisy, right?’
‘The thing is,’ says Ev eventually, ‘if Daisy went with someone she knew, then maybe shedidknow. That was her big secret: she was going to disappear.’
***
Asante makes sure to be neither first nor last into the incident room. Unlike Quinn, he has no interest in making a splash, and in the circumstances, playing his presence down is probably the better call. He gets a few intrigued glances and gives his name to anyone who asks, but most of them leave him alone.
At ten past nine, Tate arrives in a rush of assumed seniority, and sets the room stirring like a foxed-up henhouse.
‘OK,’ she says, dumping her bag on the floor, ‘let’s get started.’
She throws back her hair to take a theatrical gulp of her barista-bought coffee and waves her other hand in Asante’s direction. ‘As the more observant of you may have realized, we now have an infiltrator from Thames Valley in our midst.’
Asante wonders for a moment about that ‘observant’. After all, it’s practically impossible to miss him: he’s the only black person in the room.
‘Apparently DCI Fawley will be gracing us with his presence later today, should more pressing matters permit.’
No mistaking the sarcasm now.
‘DS Asante arrived last night, so I’ve already brought him up to speed with what we’ve done so far.’ She gestures at the boards.
Asante notices a woman a few feet away raise an eyebrow. She’s staring at the floor and the expression on her face is all but imperceptible. If he’d been looking another way he’d never have seen it. But he wasn’t, and he does.
‘I’m now going to ask him to come forward and take us through the original Daisy Mason case. All things considered, it’s turned into a bit of a bummer for Thames Valley, given they told the world she’d been murdered in 2016.’ She gives an arch look. ‘And we all thought Oxford people were supposed to be so clever. Dear oh dear.’
Some laughter now. It’s a crude tactic, but, Asante has to acknowledge, an effective one.
‘And once he’s done all that,’ continues Tate, ‘he’ll be assigning tasks, so look sharp.’
She looks round the room, the shadow of a wink. ‘If anyone needs me, I’ll be having a manicure, so don’t even think about it.’
***
It’s been eight years, so Ev should have expected him to look different, but Gary Mason is a surprise all the same. She can still see Leo, that scared, sad little boy, hiding inside his long fringe and oversized clothes, and she’s sure Jean Mann can see him too. But the young man who comes into the garden now, the dog jumping ecstatically at his knees, has lost all sense of that lonely kid. He’s not tall, but he’s nice-looking and he holds himself well, head up. Ev flashes a smile at Jean, hoping she knows the small miracle she and her husband have made.
He drops his bag on the grass and takes a step further forward,reaching to pet Basil with one hand, shielding his eyes against the sun. ‘Mum? You OK?’
‘I’m fine, love,’ says Jean quickly.
Ev notes that ‘Mum’ and the fact that his first concern is for her, which would say a lot for any teenager, never mind one with this past.
She holds out a hand. ‘Gary? You probably won’t remember me –’
He frowns a little. ‘No, I do – you’re police, right?’
‘That’s right – I’m DS Verity Everett. This is my colleague, DC Sargent.’
There’s a flash of humour in his eyes at that. ‘That must get confusing.’
Sargent grins. ‘Yeah, just my luck to choose this job.’
He looks from her to Ev and back again. ‘So what’s this about?’
Jean holds out a hand. ‘Come and sit down, love. I’ll go and get another glass.’
She heads off to the kitchen and Gary pulls out a chair and sits down, Basil settling happily under the table with a dog sigh.
‘It’s about Daisy, right?’
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