Dead Simple

sitting bolt upright, arms firmly crossed.
    ‘Before I forget, tomorrow is Pete’s funeral. Two o’clock, the Good Shepherd, Dyke Road. Luke’s is on Wednesday; I haven’t got the time yet – and I don’t know about Josh and Robbo yet. So what’s this big latest thing you have to tell me?’
    The waiter came with her water, and they ordered. Then when the waiter had moved away Mark began by telling her about the finger.
    She shook her head, sounding shocked. ‘This cannot be true, Mark.’
    Mark had put the finger in the Jiffy bag into the fridge in his apartment, but he’d brought the note with him and gave it to her.
    Ashley read it carefully, several times, mouthing the words as if in total disbelief. Then suddenly there was anger in her eyes and she looked at him accusingly. ‘This isn’t your doing, Mark?’
    It was Mark’s turn to be shocked. He mouthed the word before he said it. ‘What? You think I have Michael hidden somewhere and I cut his finger off. I might not like him too much but—’
    ‘You’re happy to let him die of asphyxiation in a coffin – but you wouldn’t ever do something nasty to him, like cut a finger off? Come on, Mark, what kind of bullshit is this?’
    He glanced around, alarmed at the way she had raised her voice. But no one was taking any notice.
    Mark could not believe the way she seemed to be turning on him. ‘Ashley, come on, this is me. Jesus Christ, what’s got into you? We’re a team, you and I – isn’t that the deal? We love each other; we’re a team, right?’
    She softened, glanced around, then reached forward, took his hand and brought it to her lips, planting a gentle kiss on it. ‘My darling,’ she said, her voice lowered. ‘I love you so much – but I’m just in shock.’
    ‘Me too.’
    ‘I suppose we all handle shock, stress – you know – in different ways.’
    He nodded, pulled her hand towards his mouth and kissed it tenderly. ‘We have to do something for Michael.’
    She shook her head. ‘It’s perfect, don’t you see? We just do nothing! This man – Vic – he’s going to think you care because you’re Michael’s partner.’ She grinned. ‘It’s an incredible situation!’
    ‘It’s not; I haven’t told you everything.’ He drained his beer and looked around, wondering if the wine was on its way. Then he told her about the phone call from Vic and the sound of Michael screaming.
    Ashley listened in silence. ‘Christ, poor Michael – he—’ She bit her lip and a tear rolled down her cheek. ‘I mean – oh shit, oh shit.’ She closed her eyes for some moments, then opened them again, staring directly into Mark’s. ‘How – how the hell – how did this man find Michael?’
    Mark decided not to mention the visit from Grace at this moment; Ashley was already distressed enough. ‘All I can think is he must have stumbled across the grave – it wasn’t exactly well concealed. Hell, the boys only planned to be away a max of an hour or two. I camouflaged it a bit – but it wouldn’t have been hard – a rambler could easily have seen it.’
    ‘A rambler’s one thing,’ she said bleakly. ‘This guy’s not a rambler.’
    ‘He’s a chancer, maybe. Finds Michael, figures out from all the press and media coverage that this is the rich guy everyone’s looking for – it’s the chance of a lifetime. He takes him off to another location and sends us a ransom note – and proof that he has Michael.’
    Ashley said, her voice faltering, ‘How – how do – you – we – anyone – I mean – how do we know it’s Michael’s finger?’
    ‘About three weeks ago Michael and I were on the boat, doing some maintenance work on her, on a Saturday afternoon – remember?’
    ‘Vaguely.’
    ‘The heads door slammed shut on Michael’s index finger. He was hopping around, cursing, running it under a cold tap. He showed me a few days later a black band right across the nail.’ He paused. ‘The finger that arrived has a black band. OK?’
    A hearty plate of avocado, mozzarella and tomatoes arrived for Ashley. And a large bowl of minestrone was set down in front of Mark. When the waiter went away again, Ashley said, ‘Do you want to call the police, Mark? Tell the bloodhound Detective Superintendent about this?’
    Mark churned that over in his mind, letting his soup cool while Ashley began eating. If they told the police and the man carried out his threat to kill Michael, that was one elegant solution to the