Page 66 of Making a Killing

‘Be my guest,’ she says, with a humourless smile.

‘We had a garage at the back of the garden like this when I was a kid,’ says Gis as they pick their way down towards the shed. ‘Far too small for the car, even then, so it just ended up full of crap.’

‘Junk expands to fill the available space,’ says Stillwell, being careful where she puts her feet. She has a weakness for high heels, which is a definite disadvantage when it comes to this job. The pair she’s wearing are the most sensible she has and they’re still catching in the broken slabs.

They can’t hear anything when they get to the door, so Gis raises a hand and knocks briskly. ‘Mr Mason?’

Definitely some noise now, and a moment later, the door squeals open. He doesn’t look that surprised, so evidently Ms Dunlop has messaged him they were on their way. He looks noticeably older than in his arrest photo, fifty-four now and carrying every day of it, hair completely grey, bags forming under his eyes (Makes you go blind, thinks Stillwell waspishly). The quality of the wardrobe has also taken a turn southwards, notes Gis, and he has a tattoo sleeve on one arm that wasn’t there before.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Nice to see you too, Barry,’ grins Gis. ‘Can we have a word?’

‘No you fucking can’t. I’ve had enough “words” with coppers to last me a bloody lifetime.Threelifetimes. And if you think you’re going to stick me with somethingelseI didn’t fucking do –’

‘It’s not about you,’ says Stillwell evenly. ‘Not this time.’

He stops a moment, flagrantly looking her up and down; she can smell his sweat. ‘Well, you’re an improvement, at least, not like that other dowdy cow –’

‘Shall we go back in the house, Mr Mason?’ interrupts Gis. ‘I’m sure you don’t want us intruding on your “personal space” …’

Barry gives him a poisonous look and drags the ramshackle door shut behind him with a bang.

***

‘So there’s nothing you can remember, Gary? Nothing that might help us work out what really happened?’

Jean has joined them again and is pouring her son a glass of lemonade. But she’s not interfering, she’s letting him do this his own way.

He shrugs. ‘I was just a kid.’

‘I know,’ says Ev. ‘But you were an observant kid. I could see that, even then.’

He shrugs again. He seems closed off now.

She tries another tack. ‘Look, no one knew better than you what was going on in that house. And Daisy must have said things to you that she didn’t say to your parents.’

‘Herparents,’ he flashes, his cheeks flushed. ‘Not mine.’

‘I’m sorry,’ says Ev, flushing herself now. ‘That was tactless of me. But she did talk to you, didn’t she?’

He heaves a long sigh and Ev hates herself.

‘Yeah,’ he says at last. ‘Sometimes. But she never said anything, you know,private.She kept loads of stuff to herself.’

Doesn’t Ev know it.

‘Jean just told us Daisy gave you something the day before she disappeared. Is that right?’

He makes a face. ‘Oh, you mean that charm thing.’

‘Right. It sounded like it meant quite a lot to her.’

Another shrug.

‘It made me wonder whether she wanted you to have something that could protect you?’

‘It was just a piece of crap. It wasn’t even real silver.’

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