The Surrogate by Tania Carver

very well muscled. He listened to what the woman said, his eyes going to the office, following her pointing arm. He didn’t look pleased.

    ‘Look at those guns,’ said Clayton. ‘Whoever he hit didn’t stand a chance.’

    Ryan Brotherton got out of the cab and made his way across the yard to the office. Not in a good mood. He reached the cabin, opened the door, stepped inside. The space was small enough; with his large frame as well as the two of them, he seemed to suck all the air from the room.

    ‘Yeah?’ he said.

    Phil held out his warrant card again. ‘DI Brennan and DS Thompson,’ he said.

    ‘So?’

    ‘Can we have a word, please?’

    Brotherton shrugged.

    Phil noticed the pneumatic secretary trying to enter the office. ‘In private.’

    Brotherton noticed her entering too, didn’t try to stop her. ‘This is Sophie. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her.’ His face twisted into an expression that on someone else could have been a smile. ‘And I’ve found, Mr Brennan, that when your lot are around it’s better to have a witness.’

    Phil weighed his options. Reassure Brotherton that he had done nothing wrong, insist on privacy. Or just say what he had to say to this unpleasant man, no matter how painful, and get out. He decided on the latter.

    ‘I’m afraid we’ve got some very bad news to tell you, Mr Brotherton.’

    Brotherton said nothing, waited.

    Phil and Clayton exchanged a glance. Phil continued. ‘It’s your girlfriend.’

    Brotherton frowned. Sophie joined him. ‘Girlfriend?’

    ‘Claire Fielding.Your girlfriend.’

    ‘You mean ex-girlfriend,’ said Sophie quickly before Brotherton could speak.

    Phil looked between the two of them. He knew what was happening. ‘Ex-girlfriend. I’m sorry.’

    ‘So? What about her? What’s she done now?’ He took a step forward, hands instinctively bunching into fists. ‘What’s she said about me now, eh? What lies has she come out with this time?’

    Phil kept his face straight, his voice neutral. ‘What lies has she told before, Mr Brotherton?’

    Brotherton gave a harsh bark. It could have been a laugh. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know.You wouldn’t be here otherwise. ’

    ‘Would this have something to do with your assault charges?’ said Clayton.

    ‘You know fuckin’ well it does. Just because I’ve done time for assault over five years ago you think you can keep dredgin’ it up all the damned time. Every time some bird makes some allegation you automatically come to me. Well I’m sick of it. Any more of this and I’ll get my solicitor on to you.’

    ‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Brotherton,’ said Phil. ‘There won’t be any more allegations against you. At least not from Claire Fielding.’

    Another snort. ‘Why? She been given a restrainin’ order? Stop pesterin’ me?’

    ‘No, Mr Brotherton,’ said Phil, ‘she’s dead.’

    He waited, scrutinising Brotherton and Sophie’s faces for the slightest out-of-place expression, to file away for a later date. The two of them exchanged glances. Sophie looked to be about to say something but Brotherton shushed her. ‘What happened?’ he said, voice flat.

    ‘She was murdered. In her flat, last night.’

    His jaw sagged slightly open, his eyes went blank. Phil imagined that for him it was quite a display of emotion. Brotherton’s usual range probably went all the way from anger to anger.

    ‘What . . . what...’Then a thought struck him. ‘She was pregnant, wasn’t she?’

    ‘She was, Mr Brotherton. With your baby?’ said Clayton.

    ‘So she said,’ said Brotherton, the anger in his words indicating that whatever grieving process he had undergone for Claire Fielding was now officially over.

    ‘What d’you mean by that?’ said Phil.

    ‘What I said. Oldest trick in the book, innit? You wanna catch a man, you tell him you’re pregnant.’ He made an expansive arm gesture, looked round the office. ‘I mean, look