but we went out of our way to avoid him.’
‘So you didn’t talk to him again?’
‘You kidding? The next time I saw him with the other two in an alley I ran.’
‘Did you give him anything after the first interview?’ Peter asked.
‘Like what?’
‘Money. A fix. Booze?’
‘We may have given him a couple of quid.’
‘May have?’
‘I can’t remember.’
‘Sure the quids didn’t come wrapped in little plastic packets?’
‘I’m not a drug dealer, Sergeant Collins,’ Nigel protested.
‘How did you know I was talking about drugs?’
‘It’s obvious – it’s –’
‘You gave him money. Nothing else?’ Trevor recalled the bottle. ‘No whisky?’
When Nigel didn’t reply, Sam turned on him.
‘Mr Valance! You promised, no drink,’ Sam reproached.
‘Constable Murphy will take your statement, Mr Valance,’ Bill wound up the proceedings.
‘Thank you for your time.’
‘If there’s anything else I can do, Superintendent.’ Nigel was reluctant to leave. He had an idea for a documentary on the local police force and was tempted to bring up the subject. He glanced at the faces around the table wondering if it was a good time.
‘We’ll call you if we need you again, Mr Valance,’ Bill replied. ‘As I’ll assume you’ll do if you remember anything else. No matter how trivial or insignificant. In a case like this we need every crumb of information we can get.’
‘Of course, Superintendent.’ Nigel walked out through the door that Andrew was holding open.
‘Well?’ Bill looked expectantly around the table.
‘Row between two dossers over a bottle?’ Anna suggested.
‘That might explain the knife injuries to the face, but not the petrol. That sounds premeditated to me.’ Peter pulled the cigar out of his mouth.
‘I agree,’ Trevor concurred. ‘Vagrants don’t carry petrol. My money’s on kids looking for sick kicks.’
‘Anyone ever taken to trying to drink it?’
‘Meths, but never petrol, to my knowledge,’
Sam Mayberry said.
‘If they’re gone enough they might siphon some out of a car,’ Anna suggested.
‘Most of the old hands carry knives,’ Peter pushed his chair back and propped his feet on the table. ‘I wish I had a fiver for every one Trevor and I have taken off them.’
‘You ever see Tony with one, Sam?’ Trevor asked.
Sam shook his head. ‘They know the rules. If they’re seen with a weapon inside the hostel they’re disarmed and shown the door. Permanently.’
‘Supposing it’s as Anna said,’ Dan reflected.
‘Tony had a bottle, another dosser wanted it. One of them pulled a knife, they fought –’
‘And the other dosser happened to be carrying a can of petrol?’ Trevor said.
‘Perhaps the knifing came first, the petrol later.
Supposing Tony was killed in a brawl and the other man panicked when he realised Tony was dead.
Then he got the petrol and used it to cover his tracks.’
‘Tony was still screaming when Sam ran out of the hostel,’ Trevor reminded him.
‘Some of our customers can be violent when provoked, especially in drink,’ Sam contributed,
‘but I can’t see many of them having the presence of mind to try to conceal what they’d done.’
‘Finding out what happened is our problem, Sam, and this is all pure conjecture.’ Bill rose to his feet. ‘Anything you can add to what’s already been said –’
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Sam promised.
‘Don’t forget to call us if we can be of any help either.’
‘Thank you, it’s good to know we can count on the force.’
‘The two men with Tony in that queue?’ Trevor asked as the priest went to the door. ‘Was Tony with them often?’
‘First time I’d seen him with them. Whenever he stayed in the hostel, he’d shower, have his clothes treated, eat his meal, throw himself on a bed, and sleep.’
‘Was he a regular?’
‘On and off. Couple of times a week for about a year, year and a half according to the book. I looked it up
‘So you didn’t talk to him again?’
‘You kidding? The next time I saw him with the other two in an alley I ran.’
‘Did you give him anything after the first interview?’ Peter asked.
‘Like what?’
‘Money. A fix. Booze?’
‘We may have given him a couple of quid.’
‘May have?’
‘I can’t remember.’
‘Sure the quids didn’t come wrapped in little plastic packets?’
‘I’m not a drug dealer, Sergeant Collins,’ Nigel protested.
‘How did you know I was talking about drugs?’
‘It’s obvious – it’s –’
‘You gave him money. Nothing else?’ Trevor recalled the bottle. ‘No whisky?’
When Nigel didn’t reply, Sam turned on him.
‘Mr Valance! You promised, no drink,’ Sam reproached.
‘Constable Murphy will take your statement, Mr Valance,’ Bill wound up the proceedings.
‘Thank you for your time.’
‘If there’s anything else I can do, Superintendent.’ Nigel was reluctant to leave. He had an idea for a documentary on the local police force and was tempted to bring up the subject. He glanced at the faces around the table wondering if it was a good time.
‘We’ll call you if we need you again, Mr Valance,’ Bill replied. ‘As I’ll assume you’ll do if you remember anything else. No matter how trivial or insignificant. In a case like this we need every crumb of information we can get.’
‘Of course, Superintendent.’ Nigel walked out through the door that Andrew was holding open.
‘Well?’ Bill looked expectantly around the table.
‘Row between two dossers over a bottle?’ Anna suggested.
‘That might explain the knife injuries to the face, but not the petrol. That sounds premeditated to me.’ Peter pulled the cigar out of his mouth.
‘I agree,’ Trevor concurred. ‘Vagrants don’t carry petrol. My money’s on kids looking for sick kicks.’
‘Anyone ever taken to trying to drink it?’
‘Meths, but never petrol, to my knowledge,’
Sam Mayberry said.
‘If they’re gone enough they might siphon some out of a car,’ Anna suggested.
‘Most of the old hands carry knives,’ Peter pushed his chair back and propped his feet on the table. ‘I wish I had a fiver for every one Trevor and I have taken off them.’
‘You ever see Tony with one, Sam?’ Trevor asked.
Sam shook his head. ‘They know the rules. If they’re seen with a weapon inside the hostel they’re disarmed and shown the door. Permanently.’
‘Supposing it’s as Anna said,’ Dan reflected.
‘Tony had a bottle, another dosser wanted it. One of them pulled a knife, they fought –’
‘And the other dosser happened to be carrying a can of petrol?’ Trevor said.
‘Perhaps the knifing came first, the petrol later.
Supposing Tony was killed in a brawl and the other man panicked when he realised Tony was dead.
Then he got the petrol and used it to cover his tracks.’
‘Tony was still screaming when Sam ran out of the hostel,’ Trevor reminded him.
‘Some of our customers can be violent when provoked, especially in drink,’ Sam contributed,
‘but I can’t see many of them having the presence of mind to try to conceal what they’d done.’
‘Finding out what happened is our problem, Sam, and this is all pure conjecture.’ Bill rose to his feet. ‘Anything you can add to what’s already been said –’
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Sam promised.
‘Don’t forget to call us if we can be of any help either.’
‘Thank you, it’s good to know we can count on the force.’
‘The two men with Tony in that queue?’ Trevor asked as the priest went to the door. ‘Was Tony with them often?’
‘First time I’d seen him with them. Whenever he stayed in the hostel, he’d shower, have his clothes treated, eat his meal, throw himself on a bed, and sleep.’
‘Was he a regular?’
‘On and off. Couple of times a week for about a year, year and a half according to the book. I looked it up
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