Angel Hunt by Mike Ripley

It’s just I like to know where I stand and which bit of me to tense up before the rubber truncheon lands. It’s the same in power politics. The Russians would much rather deal with a right-wing conservative any day, because they know where they stand, rather than a left-wing liberal who might do something off-the-wall, like act on principle, for heaven’s sake. I had the feeling that Prentice was out to kill me with kindness, or at least make me put my hands up to something I hadn’t done. But what?
    â€˜Look, Sergeant, what’s the deal? I recognised Billy Tuckett from way back and thought I’d save you guys some time by giving you his name. I could have kept the lip zippered. I don’t know this Lucy Scarrott female and I don’t know what Billy was doing on the roof. What can I tell you?’
    â€˜Maybe nothing,’ he shrugged. ‘But I’d value your input.’
    â€˜You’re not thinking of opening a sperm bank, are you?’
    â€˜Sorry,’ he laughed. ‘Got to watch the jargon.’
    â€˜You probably use a lot down Wanstead nick.’
    â€˜I don’t work out of Wanstead,’ he said carefully, but went no further.
    â€˜So what exactly do you want from me?’
    â€˜I want you to come with me to Mr Sunil’s house and let me show you what I think happened to Billy Tuckett.’
    â€˜What good would that do?’
    â€˜I’m not sure, but you might be able to fill in the odd gap.’
    I shook my head in despair.
    â€˜How many times? I haven’t seen Billy in years and I don’t know why he decided to have a night on the tiles on Sunday. Why don’t you try this Lucy Scarrott bird?’
    â€˜We can’t find her. Bit embarrassing, really; she’s supposed to be on probation, but her probation officer sort of lost her about a year ago.’
    â€˜And I’m the next best thing?’
    â€˜The only lead to Billy we have, and, I admit, a pretty slim one.’
    â€˜As long as we understand each other on that score, fair enough.’ Going along with him seemed to be the best way of getting rid of him. ‘But I have to ask, though I think I might regret it, what is Lucy Scarrott on probation for?’
    â€˜Breaking into an animal research centre.’
    Oh-oh. Animals again.
    Â 
    I followed Prentice’s Escort over to Leytonstone in Armstrong. I told him I wanted to go on to work afterwards, but really I needed thinking time to try and figure him out.
    We turned into Dwyer Street and I still hadn’t made any headway. Then I realised he wasn’t stopping outside Sunil’s house, but carrying on to the other end of the road. He parked ten yards or so after the last house, outside a wire-mesh fence in front of a late 1950s prefabricated school. There was a handkerchief-size tarmac playground in front and a wooden sign, which somebody had tried to set fire to, saying Dwyer Street Infants’ School.
    Prentice got out of his Escort and locked it, then pointed to the gate of the school yard. I pulled Armstrong in behind his car, got out and joined him by the gate. There was no padlock on it, and it squealed as Prentice pushed it open.
    â€˜Your motor?’ he nodded towards Armstrong.
    â€˜Yeah, and it’s taxed.’
    â€˜You can pick up second-hand Metrocabs now, you know.’
    â€˜Wouldn’t have one given,’ I said firmly.
    â€˜Why? Not as economical on the fuel?’
    â€˜No, just no character.’
    He gave me a quizzical look, then indicated to the left side of the school.
    â€˜Come round the side,’ he said, and I followed him down the tarmac path, which was about a yard wide, between the school building and a six-foot wooden fence that isolated the first house in the terrace.
    â€˜It’s not a school any more,’ he said over his shoulder.
    â€˜Well, they have to hide the Cruise missiles somewhere,’ I said, zipping up my fleece-lined