The meanest Flood

Ellen said. ‘I should’ve known better when you said you’d got the tickets. All the way to Nottingham when we could have seen him here.’
    ‘Oh, I’m going to see him here as well,’ Marilyn said. ‘You can count on that. Danny and me, we’ll probably end up working together.’
    ‘Look,’ Ellen said, ‘I don’t ask for much, Marilyn. But I want you to leave this man alone. I can see it’s going to get you into trouble, and if you’re in trouble I’m in trouble as well. What happened last night - it didn’t mean anything.’
    ‘It didn’t mean anything to you, Mother. But it meant a lot to me and it meant a lot to Danny. You’re an old woman, you’ve had your life. But Danny and me, we’re still young. We’re in love and our whole future is waiting.’
    ‘He doesn’t know you,’ Ellen said. ‘This is just like the others. You’re going to hound the life out of that poor man, drive him to distraction. I’m asking you, please, Marilyn, leave him alone. Let him go.
    Marilyn continued eating her cornflakes. She added more milk and sugar. She said, ‘Do you want to put some bread in the toaster and bring the strawberry jam over to the table? Danny likes a girl with some meat on her. He can’t stand those anorexic types, bloody stick insects.’
     

6
     
    ‘You think I killed her?’ Sam said.
    Delaney shook his head, a snide grin on his face. ‘No one said you killed her. We’re trying to establish why someone wanted her dead.’
    ‘These things are usually domestic,’ Sam said. ‘What about the guy who found her? The boyfriend?’
    The Chief Inspector touched his nose. ‘The local police say he’s not bright enough. He took her body into the street, laid it out on the road. There’s no sign of the murder weapon.’
    ‘He could have dropped it down the drain.’
    George Forester, the solicitor, touched Sam’s arm. ‘Just answer the questions,’ he said.
    ‘They say he’s really cut up about it,’ Delaney said. ‘They don’t think he could put on such a convincing act if he’d killed her. He loved her.’
    ‘It’s good to know somebody did.’
    ‘Which means you didn’t?’
    Sam looked across the desk at the policeman. He didn’t mask his hostility. There were times when he believed he simply hated the uniform, the institution, but in clearer moments he realized that he hated the individuals, the people who were drawn to the profession. ‘I didn’t know her any more,’ Sam said quietly. He looked at his solicitor a nd shook his head. ‘I’m sorry she’s dead. I’m sorry she died like that. But I haven’t seen her, haven’t thought about her, for years.’
    ‘What about the boyfriend? Did you know him?’
    Sam raised his palms. ‘No.’
    ‘Ruben Parkins? Mean anything?’
    ‘Never heard of him.’
    ‘He did a stretch in Long Lartin. GBH.’
    ‘Your guys in Nottingham’ll get a confession. Pull his; finger-nails out; that usually does the trick.’
    The solicitor held up his hand. ‘OK, Sam.’ He turned to Chief Inspector Delaney. ‘Are you going to charge Mr Turner?’ he asked. ‘If not, I think we should take a break. My client is doing his best to help but your line of questioning is somewhat provocative.’
    Delaney said, ‘We’re breaking for five minutes.’ He: switched off the tape recorder and got to his feet.
     
    They finally stepped out of the station at 10.15. The moon was up and a light drizzle colluded with the store signs and the car headlights to give Fulford Road the Monet treatment.
    ‘Home? Or shall I drop you somewhere else?’ George Forester asked.
    ‘Angeles’ house,’ Sam told him. ‘I need to talk my way through this one.’
    He phoned Celia and Geordie on his mobile, spoke to each of them for a few seconds. ‘I’m out,’ he said. ‘Going to see Angeles. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’
    Angeles answered his knock and stood back to allow him into the house. She closed the door and stood still while he put his arms around her. ‘There’s an institutional scent to you,’ she said. ‘If I didn’t know you’d been to the police station I’d guess the tax office or an army barracks. You smell of fixed ideas and intimidation. Good dollop of fear mixed in as well.’
    She was a couple of inches shorter than him, slim and straight. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless white blouse. Her feet were bare and her hair was mussed on one side, as though she’d been lying on it. There was Scotch