Dialogues of the Dead

^29 soon forgot you were a cop, and that was the danger of intimacy. What did you do when you were offered a joint in a friend's house, or found yourself invited to admire his acumen in having picked up a crate of export Scotch, duty-free, from a contact in the shipping trade? He'd seen the expression of shocked disbelief in friends' faces when he'd enquired if these were wise things to be sharing with a senior CID officer, and that had often been the last totally open expression he'd seen in those particular faces. Now he contemplated an oblique approach to the question of Dee and Penn but quickly discounted it. Wingate was too bright not to realize he was being pumped. The direct route was probably the best, not directness as Andy Dalziel (who happily had not yet appeared) understood it, but something much more casual and low-key. 'Something you could help us with maybe,' he said. 'You went to Unthank College, didn't you?' That's right.' 'Were Charley Penn and Dick Dee there at the same time?' 'Yes, they were, as a matter of fact.' 'Good friends, were they?' 'Not of mine. I was a year ahead. A year in school's even longer than a week in politics.' 'But of each other?' Wingate didn't reply straightaway and Pascoe felt the just-afriendly-chat smile on his face begin to freeze into a rictus. 'John?' he prompted. 'Sorry. What was the question?' Good technique that, thought Pascoe. By forcing me to repeat the question in a much more positive form, he's upped the atmosphere from chat toward interrogation. 'Were Dee and Penn close friends?' he said. 'Don't see how I'm qualified to answer that, Peter. Not sure why you'd want to ask me that either.' 'It's OK, John, nothing sinister. Just part of the usual business of collecting and collating mile after mile of tedious information, most of which proves totally irrelevant. I certainly don't want you to feel used.' This was offered with a rueful you-knowallaboutthis-too twist of the lips. 'Oh, I don't, because so far I haven't been. And I don't think I will be, not unless you can give me some better reason, or indeed any reason at all, for interrogating me about my merry schooldays.' 'It's not an interrogation, John,' said Pascoe patiently. 'Just a couple of friendly questions. Can't see why someone in your job should have any problem with that.' 'My job? Let's examine that. Basically I'm still what I started out as, a journalist, and in that game you don't get brownie points for jumping into bed with the police.' 'Didn't do Jax Ripley any harm.' Dalziel had done one of his Red Shadow entrances; you don't know he's there till he bursts into song. 'What?' said Wingate, turning and looking alarmed. Then, recovering, he smiled and said, 'Superintendent, I didn't see you. Yes, well, Jax, God bless her, had her own techniques.' 'Certainly did,' said Dalziel. 'Don't want to interrupt, Pete, but just wanted to check with Mr Wingate if his missus was going to be at home this afternoon. Thought I might pop round and have a chat.' This produced a shared moment of bewilderment with Pascoe which might be to the good. 'Moira? But why should you want to talk to Moira about Dee and Penn?' asked Wingate. 'No reason, 'cos I don't. No, it's just a general chat I had in mind.' 'Yes, but why?' insisted Wingate, still more puzzled than aggressive. 'I'm conducting a murder investigation, Mr Wingate,' said Dalziel heavily. 'Several murder investigations.' 'So what's that got to do with her? She had no special connection with any of the victims.' 'She knew Jax Ripley, didn't she? I can talk to her about Jax Ripley and what she got up to. All right, I can probably tell her more than she can tell me. But I'm clutching at straws, Mr Wingate, and I might as well clutch at your missus, seeing it doesn't look like there's going to be owt to clutch at here. Is there, Mr Wingate?' He smiled one of his terrible smiles, lips drawn back from

331 savage teeth, like the jaws of a mechanical digger about to seize and uproot a tree. Pascoe was long acquainted with the Fat Man and all his winning ways and his mind had whipped, computer quick, through a wide selection of possible scenarios and opted for the one which-made most sense. The Fat Man was telling Wingate he knew that he'd been banging Jax Ripley and was offering him the simple choice all detectives at some time offer most criminals - bubble or be bubbled. Wingate's mind clearly moved as fast, or even faster as he had also to work out the best response. Not that there was much real alternative. He caved in instantly but to do him justice he caved in with style, turning back to Pascoe and saying with a good shot at urbanity, 'Where were we? Oh yes, you were asking me about my schooldays. And Dee and Penn. Now let me see what I can recall...'