Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

them into an untidy kitchen. It stank of stale cigarette smoke. A few magazines lay strewn around the chairs. He swept them up and chucked them on the floor before waving a hand, inviting Geraldine and Sam to sit down at the table.
    ‘Patrick Henshaw’s death came at a very convenient time for you,’ Geraldine commented.
    ‘What do you mean by that?’
    ‘You were facing financial difficulties.’
    ‘That was nothing new. It’s not a crime to owe money, is it?’
    ‘What did Patrick Henshaw say about your gambling debts?’
    ‘Nothing. It was none of his business any more than it’s any of yours.’
    He pulled a cigarette out of a packet and tapped the end of it on the table before lighting it. Leaning back, he exhaled slowly, avoiding Geraldine’s eye.

     
    ‘And now you’re a very rich man,’ Geraldine continued. ‘You inherited your business partner’s share of the restaurant just when you needed it. That’s going to sort out the bailiffs for you.’
    George rose to his feet in a sudden swift movement, his face flushing darkly.
    ‘What the hell are you saying?’
    ‘I’m just stating the facts, Mr Corless. You were in trouble. Couldn’t pay your bills. Now you’re home and dry – until you gamble it all away again, that is. It’s very convenient for you, Henshaw dying just now, isn’t it?’
    She sat back and watched him smoking and scowling.

     
    ‘Is that all?’ he responded at last. ‘Only I’ve got a business to run. How long is this going to take?’
    Geraldine ignored his question.
    ‘Did you get on well with Patrick?’
    ‘What do you think?
    ‘Answer the question.’
    ‘We were partners.’
    ‘Yes. And did you get on well?
    ‘I’d say so, yes. We were mates. We go back a long way.’
    ‘Tell me about how you met.’
    ‘Oh for Christ’s sake! It was years ago. We were working for the same construction company. The company went down the pan but we kept in touch. A few years later he invited me to join him in a small business venture – I was flush at the time so we put up the money together and one thing led to another. Then Mireille came up. It was a good deal, and we knew we could work together, so we went ahead. That’s all there is to it.’

     
    Geraldine quizzed him about the finances for the restaurant.
    ‘We both put money in. It was a joint venture. Equal partners.’
    ‘Tell me about your disagreements.’
    ‘What disagreements? We never had any disagreements. If you’re going to put words in my mouth, I want my lawyer present.’
    He glanced nervously at Sam, notebook open in her lap, pen poised.
    ‘You told me you had different ideas,’ Geraldine insisted.
    But however much she pressed him, he revealed nothing that might implicate him in Henshaw’s murder.
    ‘I already told you, he was the business brains behind the restaurant. I’m in the shit without him. Why would I want to kill him? Now, can we hurry this along if you’ve got any more questions, and let’s get this over with. I need to get off to the restaurant soon.’
    He glanced at his watch, his face twisted in anger. His hands shook as he lit another cigarette.

     
    Geraldine tried a different tack.
    ‘Mr Corless, where were you on Sunday evening?’
    ‘Sunday evening?’
    He took a deep drag of his cigarette, thinking. She wondered if he was really trying to remember, or if he was taking his time, concocting a convincing alibi.
    ‘What time are we talking about?’
    ‘Some time around midnight, say between ten and one in the morning.’
    ‘I’d have been here. We close early on a Sunday, and it wasn’t too busy so I left around ten. Patrick said he’d lock up.’
    ‘Can anyone vouch for that?’
    ‘Ask Desiree. She’ll vouch for me.’
    Geraldine wondered if Desiree’s word was as false as her nails.

CHAPTER 23
     
    S he hated having to stand on a crowded underground train, even for a short journey. The heat from other people’s closeness made her cringe; their smells suffocated her: body odours, the stench of stale cigarettes mingled with cloying perfumes and hair gels; strangers coughing and sneezing beside her, breathing on her. She made a point of walking right to the far end of the platform, where she was more likely to get a seat. At least sitting down she had some space of her own.

     
    Her attention was arrested by a face staring blankly at her. There was no mistaking the glaring angular features; his face haunted her dreams. Squinting, she tried to make out