Page 59 of The Final Vow (Washington Poe #7)

Joanne Addy opened her front door then stepped back. It was what people did these days. They opened their doors and stepped back into the shadows. Why unnecessarily frame yourself? Why make yourself an easy target?

She was a short woman who compensated for her lack of height with three-inch heels and a beehive hairdo Marge Simpson would have been proud of.

Poe had expected her to say, despite living under the gun, she was on her way out.

But she didn’t. This must be how she dressed at home. Always ready for pop-ins.

She invited them inside. They were mob-handed so there weren’t enough seats. Mathers, Flynn, and an armed cop whose name Poe hadn’t caught and was too embarrassed to ask again, took the sofa. Bradshaw took the remaining armchair and Poe perched on the arm.

Joanne Addy didn’t ask why a bunch of cops and NCA officers had filled her living room, which Poe thought curious.

‘Is this about Conrad?’

Poe and Mathers shared a glance.

‘Who’s Conrad?’ Mathers said.

‘The wee shite who keyed my car last week,’ Addy said. ‘Just because I wouldn’t give his jakey maw a job.’

Poe mentally translated. Maw meant mother; jakey usually meant homeless alcoholic but was used as a one-size-fits-all insult these days.

‘We’re not here because someone scratched your car, Mrs Addy,’ Mathers said. She paused a moment, waited for the silence to get uncomfortable. ‘We’re here about your ex-husband.’

‘Raymond? What’s he done?’

‘When was the last time you saw him?’

Addy looked up. ‘Must be a couple of years. Maybe longer. He’d heard I’d finally persuaded Mr Douglas to sell me the Smithy’s Forge and he wanted to check I was doing OK.

’ She looked wistful. ‘He knew it was my dream. Wish he’d talked me out of it now, of course.

This sniper bawbag’s killing more than people. ’

Bawbag – ball bag. Poe had to admit, Scottish slang was far more colourful than English slang. He said, ‘It does look quiet out there.’

Addy glared at him. ‘It looked quiet out there when that first wee lassie was killed. Now the bawbag’s come back for second helpings, it’s bloody dead.

I rang round the other venues and they’re all empty.

I have the money for one more month of nothing coming in.

After that’ – she ran her finger across her throat – ‘I’ll be dead and buried. ’

‘How long ago did you buy the Smithy’s Forge?’ Mathers asked.

‘Eight years ago. I’d been there twenty-odd years by then. Got a job as a weddings and events assistant when I left school. Didn’t miss a day.’

‘You must enjoy it?’

Addy smiled for the first time. ‘I’m not selling weddings, I’m selling dreams . Even the repeat customers, the ones who see the marriage as something to endure until they feel the urge for yet another wedding . . .’

‘They’re addicted?’ Poe said, surprised.

Addy lit a cigarette. Sucked half of it down and said, ‘You’d be surprised what people can get addicted to, Sergeant Poe.’

Bradshaw nodded vigorously. ‘Poe’s addicted to Cumberland sausage, Joanne Addy,’ she said. ‘He eats it at least once a day.’

‘Great contribution, Tilly.’

‘Thank you, Poe.’

Addy continued as if that bizarre exchange hadn’t happened.

‘I have one customer who gets us to provisionally pencil in her next wedding while she’s still wearing white from the current one.

And that’s fine. The heart wants what the heart wants.

And I’ve loved working in the Smithy’s Forge since the moment I set foot in the place.

Maybe I’m an old romantic, but I knew I’d own it one day.

Call it fate or something. I don’t see it as a job or a career; I see it as a calling.

’ She tapped out a new cigarette and lit it from the old one.

‘And now it’s over. Of all the difficulties the Gretna Green wedding businesses face, no one had considered something like this. An eejit sniper.’

‘Is there no help available?’ Poe asked.

‘It’s not like the pandemic. There’s no government assistance this time and the insurance company are claiming it’s force majeure .’

Bradshaw had told Grantham Smythe, owner of the Mill Forge, the wedding venue where the first Gretna Green victim was killed, that force majeure was French for greater force.

It was a catch-all phrase for when the slippery bastards in insurance were trying to deny claims. Unlike an act of God, which only included natural events that couldn’t have been foreseen, force majeure included extraordinary situations caused by human intervention.

War is force majeure . COVID was force majeure .

So were striking unions. Infrastructure failures.

It seemed insurance companies had added snipers to the list.