Page 122 of Making a Killing

Voice 3:It’s calledThe Teacher’s Pet.

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It’s Barry who opens the door.

‘Fuck me, you again.’

‘Yeah, well,’ says Gis, ‘if you’d all been straight with us the first time we might not have had to come back.’

There’s music coming from the kitchen and the smell of frying, then Linda’s voice asking who’s at the door.

Barry makes to close it. ‘Haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re talking about, mate. And I’m busy, so if you don’t mind –’

‘With a tinnie and theSun? Sorry “mate”, but that won’t wash.’

They can hear someone coming now, and a moment later Dunlop’s pushing the door wider and looking angrily at Barry. ‘What are these tossers here for again? What’ve you done?’

‘For fuck’s sake, jump to conclusions, why don’t you?’

‘There must be some reason –’

Stillwell smiles sweetly. ‘Funnily enough, it was actuallyyouwe wanted to speak to, Ms Dunlop. Do you mind if we come in? Wouldn’t want to entertain the whole street, now would we.’

Dunlop looks suddenly wary, or maybe ‘found out’ would be more accurate. She takes a step back and pulls Barry with her.

As soon as they’re in the kitchen she goes straight to the cooker. No fry-up needs that much attention, but it’s a great excuse to keep her back to them.

‘Why didn’t you tell us about Robin Tierney last time we were here, Ms Dunlop?’ says Stillwell.

Barry stares at her. ‘Robin who?’

Gis gestures at Dunlop’s back. ‘Why don’t you ask Linda?’

Barry grabs her arm and forces her round. ‘What are they talking about, Lin? Who is this bloke?’

‘Not a bloke,’ says Gis. ‘A woman. A researcher for a TV company.’

Barry’s still staring at Dunlop, gripping her arm. ‘TV? What’s he going on about?’

She shakes off his hand and stabs at the eggs. ‘Leave me the fuck alone – she came round asking questions and nothing came of it – end of.’

‘Well, it obviously isn’t fuckingend ofnow, is it,’ he says, still gripping her arm, ‘not if the fuckingpoliceare here.’

‘Look,’ she says, turning to him, ‘if you must know, it looked like there could be some money in it, but I never heard back, OK?’

‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’

‘Yeah, right,’ she says, ‘like we caneverhave a fucking conversation about bloody Daisy without you going off on one –’

‘What do you mean, Daisy?’ He takes a step closer, right in her face. ‘What do you mean?’

‘See?’ she says, pushing him in the chest with the spatula. ‘That’swhat I mean –’

‘OK, OK, time out,’ says Gis, pulling them apart. ‘Let’s keep it civil, shall we?’

Linda pulls her T-shirt straight and goes back to her eggs. Barry’s still red-faced; there’s a vein ticking under one eye.

‘So, to repeat, Ms Dunlop,’ says Stillwell, ‘why didn’t you tell us you’d spoken to Robin Tierney when we were here before?’

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