The Lipstick Killers

about the funeral?’
    ‘They should release the body all right. Then we can sort it out. You will stay, won’t you?’
    ‘I told you. Long as I’m needed. I want to help you find out what happened.’
    ‘It could be dangerous though, Roxie. You know that, don’t you?’
    ‘I live for danger – I’m a Doyle, remember?’
    After they’d finished their pasta they headed back to the house. Sharon and the children had gone out for a walk, so Frankie was the only one home.
    ‘Anything?’ she asked when the two sisters came in.
    ‘Could be,’ said Margaret. ‘I’m going upstairs to make a call. How are they bearing up?’
    ‘Not good,’ replied her eldest sister. ‘I thought it best for them to get out of the house – the phone never stops ringing and Sharon’s getting more and more upset.’
    ‘It’s to be expected,’ said Roxie. ‘I’ll hold the fort a bit. You go and have a sit down Frankie.’
    ‘I’ll go outside for a fag first. Don’t like to smoke in the house.’
    Margaret went upstairs to her room and sat on the bed. She thought about the coke in her shoe, but picked up her mobile instead and called a London number. ‘Spike,’ a man’s voice answered.
    ‘Hello Spike,’ she said. ‘How are you today?’
    ‘The lovely Miss Doyle,’ the voice said. ‘What a pleasant surprise. But should I be talking to you?’
    ‘Probably not.’
    ‘So what can I do for you – aren’t you off duty for the foreseeable? Don’t tell me – is our date on at long last?’
    ‘That depends…’
    ‘I sense a favour being asked.’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Spit it out. It can’t be official, because I hear you’ve been a very naughty girl.’
    ‘Don’t piss about Spike. You know everything that’s going on. Probably knew before I did that I was on suspension.’
    ‘Probably, but you know me, I don’t like to gossip,’ he said, smarmily.
    Mags said nothing but rolled her eyes.
    ‘I need two numbers traced.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘My brother-in-law died in a car crash two nights ago. It might not have been an accident.’
    ‘Samantha Spade eh? A little private investigation to keep your hand in?’
    ‘I just want to know what happened.’
    ‘Guildford, was it?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Guildford. You are in Guildford aren’t you?’
    Despite herself Margaret smiled. ‘Clever boy.’
    ‘State of the art. I can trace mobile phone calls anywhere in the world, anytime.’
    ‘Makes me feel all warm inside.’
    ‘And so you should. You’d be amazed how much the Home Office are prepared to spend on toys for me.’
    ‘No I wouldn’t.’
    ‘Right.’ Spike was suddenly all business. ‘Give me the numbers and I’ll call you back.’ Obviously someone had interrupted him. She reeled them off, and with a hurried ‘Bye,’ he was gone.
    She thought again about the drugs hidden in her shoe, and this time she decided to give them a go. So she did.

26
     
     
     
    Just after Mags snorted the line, there was a knock on her door. ‘Give us a minute,’ she shouted, wiping her nose, and dropping a towel on top of the wrap of cocaine. Then, calling ‘Come in,’ Roxie stuck her head around the door. She had in her hands two cold beers.
    ‘Fancy a drink?’ she said.
    ‘Sure,’ said Margaret. ‘Just the job.’
    Roxie came in, shut the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed. She passed one can to Margaret, and cracked her own.
    Roxie looked at her and laughed out loud.
    ‘What?’ said Margaret.
    ‘Your nostril.’
    ‘What about it?’
    ‘Take a look.’
    Margaret went to the mirror on the wall. There was a residue of white powder on her top lip. ‘Oh fuck,’ she said, ‘I look like Amy Winehouse.’
    ‘Except you’ve got better hair – just. Is that what I think it is?’ asked Roxie. ‘Or have you just been too liberal with the talcum powder?’
    ‘I give in,’ said Margaret. ‘It’s what you think it is.’
    ‘Mags, I’m surprised at you,’ Roxie said in a mock-accusatory tone.
    ‘I know, I know.’
    ‘And you a policewoman too.’
    ‘Suspended policewoman to be exact,’ Mags retorted to her sister.
    ‘Got a line for me then?’ said Roxie, cheekily.
    ‘Roxie, you’re my baby sister. I can’t be giving you toot.’
    ‘And all grown up. I worked the ships don’t forget, and Spain. Those old crims almost live on the stuff. Plus don’t forget all those weekends I went out clubbing, I practically existed on e’s and coke.’
    ‘Don’t tell me any more! You can have a