Shooting in the Dark

‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘A blind taxi driver. Whatever will I think of next?’ She shook her red hair. ‘What was he like? The escort?’
    ‘Short guy, thick-set, middle-aged. Nothing to write home about. But the point I’m getting at, he’s blind. She’s dressed to take your breath away, and she’s going out with a guy who can’t see her.’
    ‘But she can’t see him either,’ said Celia.
    ‘So what? Who wants to see him? The guy’s nothing. If he walked past the window, you wouldn’t notice. But her! Jesus, she’s like a jewel. You get an eyeful of her and you don’t know if it’s night or day. You’re reeling around, feels like you’ve got your shoes on the wrong feet.’
    Celia exchanged a glance with Marie, then snapped back to Sam. ‘She rang this morning.’
    ‘Is she all right? Does she want me to ring back?’
    ‘She didn’t mention you.’
    He looked disappointed, like he’d been robbed of a dimension. Then he took in the sly smile on Celia’s face. He turned to Marie and saw that she, too, was not going into a depression.
    ‘Oh, you two,’ he said. ‘Christ, you say guys are all clammed up and they don’t know how to relate to their emotions. You want us to hang loose and not get so uptight about everything, then as soon as we relax you start taking the piss.’
    ‘Thing is,’ said Marie, ‘what you have to be able to do is to hang loose and let all your emotions spill out, but you have to be able to laugh as well.’
    ‘And do the washing,’ said Celia. ‘Clean the lavatory.’
    ‘That’ll come later,’ Sam said. ‘At the moment I’m in my stunned period.’
    ‘As in,’ Celia said, ‘you were stunned by Angeles Falco, or you were stunned by my cruel joke?’
    ‘Christ, I was talking about a dress,’ Sam said. ‘I mean, she’s got walk-in wardrobes. Clothes, shoes, you know what I mean, threads with labels, Armani, all that stuff.’
    ‘Ah, threads,’ said Marie.
    ‘Yeah, threads.’
    ‘Dresses. You were talking about dresses.’
    ‘Screw you,’ he said. ‘Screw both of you.’ Which, for some reason, started them cackling like a flock of geese.
     
    ‘Russell Harvey’s been arrested,’ Marie told them when Celia had made coffee and Sam had finished licking his wounds. ‘Rossiter picked him up this morning, took him to the Fulford Road nick. They’re searching his house.’
    ‘You think he’s in the clear?’ Sam asked.
    Marie nodded. ‘He didn’t do it. The man’s shredded. Isabel was the only decent thing in his life.’
    ‘The guy I chased last night was a different build,’ Sam said. ‘Must’ve been six foot tall, slim and fast.’
    ‘That’s not Russell,’ said Marie. ‘He’s like the guys you see in photographs of internment camps, someone who hasn’t seen a decent meal for months. He couldn’t move fast. I can’t imagine him running, he’d fall over.’
    ‘So what’s Rossiter up to?’
    ‘Going through the motions. Maybe they want a fall-guy, in which case Russell Harvey was made for the job. The state he was in, he’ll tell them whatever they want to hear.’
    ‘In the meantime,’ Sam said, ‘I want Angeles Falco out of her house. We can’t cover the back and front at the same time, and the guy who was in her garden last night will be making a return visit.’
    ‘Where are you thinking of putting her?’ asked Marie. Sam shrugged, ran his hand over his chin, producing the bristle sound.
    ‘I’ve got a spare room at my place,’ said Celia.
    ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, ‘maybe it would be better if someone moved in with her.’
    ‘I wonder who that’s gonna be?’ said Marie.
     

16
     
    When Geordie woke up in the morning his eyes were stuck together with testosterone. Janet was sitting with her back against the pillow, playing with Echo between her legs. He put his chin on Janet’s thigh and made faces at his daughter. ‘I’m sleeping badly at the moment,’ he said. ‘And I know I’m sleeping badly because when I’m sleeping I still have the feeling that I’m asleep. But when somebody’s really asleep they don’t feel like they’re asleep. They only know that they’ve been asleep when they wake up.’
    Janet laughed. ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever met who could wake up and say something like that. You’re a fugitive from the law of averages.’
    ‘That’s because I grapple with life,’ Geordie said without a hint of irony. ‘Most people accept what happens, but I think