Page 22 of Between the Lies

‘We’ll see about that later.’

She picked up her bag, froze then dropped it again. ‘Hold on. You didn’t ask me here to discuss my classes. You didn’t even know something was wrong.’

Robert raised an eyebrow, then sighed. Perplexing – that’s what it felt like mentoring a new adult. ‘You are continuing with your classes?’

Now she held up her hands in surrender. ‘Aye! Aye! Now you spill.’

He shook his head. ‘I was wondering if you’ve heard any rumours about a Nina Banerjee or’ – he pulled out his wallet and slapped a photograph of Nina onto the table; it was an image of her taken that day in the pub – ‘this woman.’

Daisy studied the picture. ‘Do you just carry photographs of random women in your wallet?’

That was another landmine Robert didn’t want to get into. Anne hadn’t liked him carrying her picture in his wallet. She’d said he could hold other more important things in there, like an ID and cash; he could always call her if he needed to listen to her voice. Initially, his besotted self had argued, so Anne had pointed out that he had her photos on his phone.

Anne’s practicality had gelled so well for him. Until Nina Banerjee had burned it to the ground.

Daisy lifted the photograph and gave it an assessing look. ‘Doesn’t exactly look like a killer, do you know what I mean? I could see you getting it on with her.’

‘Killers don’t come with a banner over their head. Even the sanest people can be deadly.’ He wasn’t going to admit he had the hots for Nina Banerjee… Not that he liked her, now that he knew who she was. ‘And who said she’s a killer?’

Daisy set the photo down and turned it so Nina looked his way. ‘Why else would you carry her picture around? I don’t think you’re the sort to move on so soon.’

He wasn’t moving on. And he definitely wouldn’t move on with his wife’skiller. Robert placed the picture back in his wallet. ‘She’s a suspect.’

Daisy snorted. ‘I thought you got yourself suspended?’

‘They’ve asked me to take some personal time.’

While they weren’t the closest of pals, she wasn’t buying his excuse. Instead, Daisy stabbed a finger on the table, exactly where Nina’s picture had been. ‘Why would this woman kill your wife? I thought your wife was a receptionist for a lawyer. What law was it again?’

‘Immigration law.’

Daisy shrugged as if that answered all his questions about motive. ‘No one’s that desperate to kill a receptionist. Not like this. What does your suspect do?’

At Daisy’s arched eyebrow, Robert shrugged. ‘She’s a mercenary journalist.’

‘What’s that?’

Robert cracked his knuckles. ‘A reporter who takes the highest bid to destroy someone’s life.’

He’d expected her to laugh – not that he’d been joking with that description of freelance investigative journalists – but he hadn’t expected Daisy to click her fingers and jump. ‘That’s where I’ve seen her.’ She dug into her bag for something and pulled out a phone with a cracked screen. After tapping at it for several seconds, she nodded.

‘It was a few days ago. I was, er, returning home, and I saw her talking to Finn.’

‘Finn?’ Robert frowned. Who the hell was Finn? He hadn’t heard of this man in the news or in the whispers surrounding Nina or Anne’s death.

‘Aye, he grew up around Easterhouse, you know. Was in and out of trouble. Now he’s on the straight and all that… most of the time. He was working on something for her.’

‘Working on something like?’ Robert pushed.

Daisy pulled a face, like a deer caught in headlights. Then she gnawed on her lip.

‘Look, Daisy, I’m not a cop, not at the moment. Just tell me.’

‘You didn’t hear this from me,’ she whispered. Then leaning in, she gritted out, ‘Finn creates fake IDs. He did one for her a few days ago. Finn got absolutely hammered that night – paid for everyone’s drinks in cash.’

Robert tipped his head. ‘Because she paid him in cash?’

‘How else?’ Daisy snorted. ‘And Finn’s good, not someone who creates fakes to get you into a bar and all, even though that’s what he used to do. Now he does the big stuff.’

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