Dead Man's Footsteps

worry about prying eyes. She checked over her shoulder to make sure none of the cabin crew were around either, then very gently eased one of the cellophane envelopes out.
    It contained a block of Penny Black stamps. She stared at Queen Victoria’s stern profile. At the word POSTAGE printed in not terribly even letters. At the faded colour.They were exquisite, but they weren’t really perfect at all. As Dave had once explained, sometimes it was their imperfections that made them all the more special.
    That applied to a lot of other things in life too, she thought, through her pleasant haze of booze. And besides, who wanted to be perfect?
    She gazed at them again, realizing it was the first time she had ever truly looked at them properly. They really were special. Magical. She smiled at them, whispering, ‘Goodbye, my little beauties. See you later.’
    Then she put them carefully away.

125
NOVEMBER 2007
    ‘Nice holiday?’ Roy Grace asked.
    ‘Very funny. I only saw the beach from the plane window,’ Glenn Branson replied.
    ‘Meant to be beautiful, Koh Samui, so I’ve heard.’
    ‘It was humid as hell and pissing with rain the whole time I was there. And I got bitten on my leg by something, either a mutant mosquito or a spider. It’s swollen right up – do you want to see it?’
    ‘No, thanks all the same.’
    The Detective Sergeant, sitting on a chair in front of Grace’s desk, his suit and shirt looking and smelling as if he’d slept in them, shook his head, grinning. ‘You’re a bastard, Grace, aren’t you?’
    ‘And I can’t believe you trashed my fucking record collection again. I allowed you to stay there one night. I didn’t ask you to take every CD I own out of its case and leave it lying on the floor.’
    Branson had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘I was trying to sort it out for you. I got – shit – I’m sorry.’ He swigged some coffee and stifled a yawn.
    ‘So how’s the prisoner? What time did you get in?’
    Branson glanced at his watch. ‘About 6.45.’ He yawned. ‘I reckon we’ve blown Sussex CID’s overseas travel budget for the year in the past two weeks.’
    Grace smiled. ‘Did Wilson say anything?’
    Branson swigged some more coffee. ‘You know, inasmuch as you can say such a thing, he actually seems a nice guy.’
    ‘Oh, sure. He’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet, right? He just has this slight problem that he prefers killing his wives to doing an honest day’s work.’ Grace gave his friend a look of feigned shock. ‘Glenn, you are a nice guy. If it wasn’t for all the crap in my life, maybe I’d be a nice guy too. But Ronnie Wilson, no, he’s not a nice guy. He’s just good at making people think he is.’
    Branson nodded. ‘Yeah. I didn’t quite mean it the way I said it.’
    ‘You need to go home, have a sleep, then shower and come back later.’
    ‘I will. But actually he did say a lot. He was in a philosophical mood and wanted to talk. I get the feeling he’s had enough of running. He’s been in hiding for six years. That’s why he agreed to come back with us. Although he kept going on about some Thai bird. Wanted us to let him text her.’
    ‘Did you caution him before he started talking?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Good man.’
    It meant that anything Ronnie Wilson said on the plane could be used in evidence in court.
    ‘Tell you something, he’s well furious with Skeggs. He wanted to be sure that, if he was going down, he took Skeggs with him.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘As much as I can figure it from what he said, it seems like Skeggs helped him when he first arrived in Australia.’
    ‘As we thought,’ Grace said.
    ‘Yeah. At some point down the line, Ronnie Wilson acquired this parcel of stamps.’
    ‘From his wife?’
    ‘He went evasive on me over that.’
    ‘I’m not surprised.’
    ‘Anyhow, he gave them to Skeggs to sell them and Skeggs tried to screw him. He wanted ninety per cent of their value, otherwise he was threatening to shop Ronnie. But Skeggs had one weakness. He had the hots for Ronnie’s bird – the one he shacked up with, he said, after his wife had, in his words, buggered off .’
    ‘In the boot of a car.’
    ‘Exactly.’
    ‘And the bird was one Abby Dawson?’
    ‘You’re sharp this morning, Detective Superintendent.’
    ‘I’ve had the benefit of a night’s sleep. So Ronnie Wilson uses her as a kind of honeypot? Gets her to shag Skeggs and nick the stamps back. Am I on the right track?’
    ‘You’re on