guy –’
‘Or had him killed,’ Stella chipped in.
‘Or had him killed. Then he had the body tattooed in an exact copy of his own body art, then smashed the face up and made the fingers look like the crabs had been at them.’ I ran a hand over my face. The tired sag of my skin matched my feelings pretty closely. ‘Those are very extreme steps to make us think he’s dead.’
‘From everything you’ve told me about Jack Farrell, extreme is second nature to him,’ Stella said.
‘But why? What’s the point?’ I was speaking out loud, but I was talking to myself.
‘Maybe his daughter’s death scared him?Maybe he thought he’d be next? Or maybe he’d just had enough of the life,’ Stella said.
‘Or maybe he wanted a free run at revenge,’ I said. ‘If Farrell was dead, Katie’s killer would be able to relax. And that would make him a lot easier to kill.’ I dropped my head into my hands. ‘Christ, this turns everything on its head.’ Then something struck me. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. My stomach churned and I looked up. ‘You said something about this helping to make sense of the other cases. Of Ben’s murder. What did you mean by that?’ I had a shrewd idea, but I wanted to hear it from Stella’s lips.
She shook her head. ‘You’re there already, Andy. Don’t make me spell it out for you. I don’t want you to blame me for being the one to put the idea into words.’ She picked up her files and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Andy. Truly sorry.’
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Please, sit down.’ I swallowed hard. I don’t find it easy to ask favours, not even from someone as close as Stella, and I probably sounded gruff.
Stella started to shake her head, then stopped. I guess she saw in my face that I neededsomething from her. She sat back down. ‘What is it?’ she said.
‘If Jack Farrell is still alive, then we know who killed Joey Scardino and Brian Cooper.’ I spoke slowly, as if creeping up on it would somehow make it less painful.
‘And we know why,’ Stella said.
I nodded. ‘Jack thought they had either killed Katie themselves or else they knew who did.’ I stretched out a hand and, without having to ask, Stella gave me the first file. I flipped it open. ‘And logic suggests that if the same knife killed Brian Cooper and Ben, the same person was using the knife.’
Stella nodded. ‘That would seem to make sense.’
‘Which means that Jack Farrell killed Ben,’ I said, my voice flat and dead.
‘And logic would suggest that the motive was the same,’ Stella said softly.
I felt like crying again. But this time for a very different reason.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A FTER S TELLA LEFT , I SAT staring at the wall for a long time. I felt cast adrift. I had put my life in Ben’s hands more than once, and I’d covered his back as many times. For years, we’d been a team, always working with high stakes. I’d bounced my ideas off him. He’d been quick to find both the strong and the weak points in what I had to say. Together, we’d built cases against some of the worst villains this country has ever seen. Together, we’d put them behind bars for a very long time.
Of course we’d had our failures. Jack Farrell wasn’t the only cleanskin walking the streets. But I’d always thought we had failed in spite of giving it our best shot. Now it looked as if the reason some cases had gone down the pan was the one every cop dreads. It seemed they’d gone tits-up not because we’d messed up but because my trusted partner had gone bent on me.
It hurt me both as a cop and as a man. Ithought I was a good judge of people. I’d always believed that I’d know in my gut if one of my team was crooked. It had never crossed my mind to doubt Ben. He was, I was sure, an honest cop. But more than that, he was my friend.
We’d been drunk together, crashed out together, sobered up together. We’d found the words and the trust to speak of the things men find it hardest to talk about – love,
‘Or had him killed,’ Stella chipped in.
‘Or had him killed. Then he had the body tattooed in an exact copy of his own body art, then smashed the face up and made the fingers look like the crabs had been at them.’ I ran a hand over my face. The tired sag of my skin matched my feelings pretty closely. ‘Those are very extreme steps to make us think he’s dead.’
‘From everything you’ve told me about Jack Farrell, extreme is second nature to him,’ Stella said.
‘But why? What’s the point?’ I was speaking out loud, but I was talking to myself.
‘Maybe his daughter’s death scared him?Maybe he thought he’d be next? Or maybe he’d just had enough of the life,’ Stella said.
‘Or maybe he wanted a free run at revenge,’ I said. ‘If Farrell was dead, Katie’s killer would be able to relax. And that would make him a lot easier to kill.’ I dropped my head into my hands. ‘Christ, this turns everything on its head.’ Then something struck me. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. My stomach churned and I looked up. ‘You said something about this helping to make sense of the other cases. Of Ben’s murder. What did you mean by that?’ I had a shrewd idea, but I wanted to hear it from Stella’s lips.
She shook her head. ‘You’re there already, Andy. Don’t make me spell it out for you. I don’t want you to blame me for being the one to put the idea into words.’ She picked up her files and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Andy. Truly sorry.’
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Please, sit down.’ I swallowed hard. I don’t find it easy to ask favours, not even from someone as close as Stella, and I probably sounded gruff.
Stella started to shake her head, then stopped. I guess she saw in my face that I neededsomething from her. She sat back down. ‘What is it?’ she said.
‘If Jack Farrell is still alive, then we know who killed Joey Scardino and Brian Cooper.’ I spoke slowly, as if creeping up on it would somehow make it less painful.
‘And we know why,’ Stella said.
I nodded. ‘Jack thought they had either killed Katie themselves or else they knew who did.’ I stretched out a hand and, without having to ask, Stella gave me the first file. I flipped it open. ‘And logic suggests that if the same knife killed Brian Cooper and Ben, the same person was using the knife.’
Stella nodded. ‘That would seem to make sense.’
‘Which means that Jack Farrell killed Ben,’ I said, my voice flat and dead.
‘And logic would suggest that the motive was the same,’ Stella said softly.
I felt like crying again. But this time for a very different reason.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A FTER S TELLA LEFT , I SAT staring at the wall for a long time. I felt cast adrift. I had put my life in Ben’s hands more than once, and I’d covered his back as many times. For years, we’d been a team, always working with high stakes. I’d bounced my ideas off him. He’d been quick to find both the strong and the weak points in what I had to say. Together, we’d built cases against some of the worst villains this country has ever seen. Together, we’d put them behind bars for a very long time.
Of course we’d had our failures. Jack Farrell wasn’t the only cleanskin walking the streets. But I’d always thought we had failed in spite of giving it our best shot. Now it looked as if the reason some cases had gone down the pan was the one every cop dreads. It seemed they’d gone tits-up not because we’d messed up but because my trusted partner had gone bent on me.
It hurt me both as a cop and as a man. Ithought I was a good judge of people. I’d always believed that I’d know in my gut if one of my team was crooked. It had never crossed my mind to doubt Ben. He was, I was sure, an honest cop. But more than that, he was my friend.
We’d been drunk together, crashed out together, sobered up together. We’d found the words and the trust to speak of the things men find it hardest to talk about – love,
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