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“It can’t be,” replied Reilly. “You only ever see us when there’s a murder.”
Gardener smiled and shook hands with the older man. “Where’s Robbie Carter?”
“He’s in a holding cell.”
“Is he okay?”
“Was the last time I looked – took him a cup of coffee about an hour ago.”
“Has he said anything?”
“No. Do you want to see him?”
“Not yet. I’d like to talk to you first. Is there somewhere we can go?”
“Of course, come through the back. Bet you’re ready for a cup of tea?”
“I’d like a bit more than that. If I remember correctly, you people have a bakery quite close – a very good one.”
Gardener realised how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten anything between the initial phone call and Reilly collecting him – or since.
“Leave it to me.” Cragg glanced at the Irishman. “You’re a bacon sandwich man if I remember correctly.”
“Nothing wrong with your memory, old son. And on this occasion you can make it two.”
“And something healthy for you, sir.”
Gardener liked Cragg, remembering the last time they had worked together. His features were solid and dependable, which was a good measure of his character. He had close-cropped, iron-grey hair with a hard, rugged complexion, pockmarked. He was stocky but not fat.
Cragg left to sort out the snacks, returning a few minutes later with a tray containing three cups, a jug of milk, sugar, and biscuits to keep them going no doubt. He sat at the table and four chairs, passing out the tea.
“She has died, then?” Cragg asked Gardener.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Any thoughts?”
“On the scene?” Gardener inquired. “Only that nothing stacks up.”
“I take it you didn’t catch the intruder red-handed on the premises?”
“We’re a wee bit confused about that,” said Reilly.
“Oh, I see. Why?”
Gardener explained. The house had almost certainly had a visitor but he wasn’t convinced that the man had made it upstairs.
“So, what do you think happened?” Cragg asked.
“I really don’t know, Maurice. What time did Robbie Carter actually come into the station?”
Cragg sipped his tea. “As far as I can recall, it would have been about two o’clock. But hang on a minute, I can tell you better with this.” The desk sergeant leaned forward and grabbed a copy of the TV magazine, confirming the time, because it coincided with his program.
“What happened?” asked Gardener.
Cragg explained about the almighty crashing sound and how when he checked the lobby it was empty.
“He wasn’t even in here?” asked Reilly.
