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“I did what?” Manny shouted. “I keep telling you, it was a misunderstanding and she got the wrong end of the stick. I was trying to leave.”
“Fancy attacking a poor defenceless woman after you’d tried to steal from her.”
“She can’t have been that defenceless. I was the one who ended up on the floor knocked out. You want to get her in here, ask her what she did to me. I’ll sue for assault, that’s what I’ll do.”
Gardener picked up his pen. “Impersonating a fire officer.”
“Theft,” added Reilly.
“Assault,” said Gardener. “The list just goes on, Manny, old son.”
“This is out of order,” Manny protested.
“You think so?” replied Reilly. “Tell you what I can’t understand.”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“If you’ve been wrongly accused here and we’re fitting you up, why haven’t you asked for a lawyer?”
“Maybe I will.”
“It’s your right,” said Gardener. “I mean, we could fit you up with anything.”
“Then again,” said Reilly, “there is the problem of proof. You know – that little bit of film we’ve just seen.”
“Of course,” said Gardener. “You could just admit it and save us all some time.”
Manny obviously thought about that one as well. “Why not?” he eventually said. “What are they going to do to me, slap me on the wrist?”
“Could be a touch more than that, old son.”
“I don’t think so,” said Manny. “Okay, you’ve got me on checking the fire extinguishers and impersonating a fire officer, but you can’t get me on stealing. After all, I never left the shop with the money. She took it back off me, so I haven’t stolen it, have I? As for the attack, it’s... well... it’s her word against mine. I mean, your film doesn’t actually show me doing anything, does it, apart from running?”
Gardener and Reilly remained silent.
“So yes, officers, I admit to a touch of fraud. So what you gonna do, charge me, lock me up, throw away the key? I don’t think so. We’ll set a date for a court hearing, I’m out of here, and with a bit of luck I’ll get a slapped wrist and told not to do it again.”
“Okay, Mr Walters.” Gardener closed the folder. Both officers stood up.
Manny joined them. “We gonna go to the front desk, get this over with? So I can go?”
“Go?”
“Yes, leave. You’ve got what you wanted, an admission.”
“To felony number one, yes.”
“Number one?”
The officers left the room pretty much how they started, to another tirade of verbal abuse.
Chapter Forty
Grace Browne washed her hands and made herself a coffee. The Italian beans were medium roasted for a smooth flavour, with a hint of tiramisu. She absolutely loved it. Glancing out of the window, she noticed a weak sun. The early morning frost was all but gone. The leaves on the trees were stripped. There was always something sad about winter setting in.
Her apartment was comfortable as she padded through to the living room, placing her coffee next to the unread morning newspaper. Her thoughts wandered to last night in the club. Everything had gone pretty decently, with only the slightest of hiccups. She had enjoyed playing the game with Critchley, turning the tables, hoping it would leave him frustrated and angry. What was interesting however, was where the taxi had taken him: a mill house in Sowerby. How the hell had he ended up there? And what was he doing here? The man was a human eel, walking Teflon – nothing stuck. But she had an address now, so it wouldn’t matter. His luck had finally run out.
In the bedroom, Grace fired up her computer, connected to the internet, and studied the electoral roll. The mill house actually belonged to Matthew and Lizzie Atkinson, who ran a stable in Thirsk. Some illegal software in her machine told her they were currently renting it to him. Bingo!
