Kings of the Night

by Mark Z. Kammell

  Chapter 14.

  Great. It’s Saturday so I don’t have to get up, even better that I can recover from my hangover. Just need to ignore the three messages on my answering machine, all from the same person, all last night, all kind of desperate. And let’s face it, I don’t like desperate, who does. You know, when the first one says I love you, and burbles on for ages about how you made a mistake, it’s only going to go one way, the second one isn’t any different, only more of the same and by the third one you’re beginning to realize why answering machines should get banned. Or get thrown out of the window, which is what happens to mine, landing with a crunch below and a shout of “Oi! Watch out you idiot”. Didn’t realize that it had that as one of its answering options or else I could have used it.

  Back to peace, lying on my couch watching the half porn music vids, drinking a breakfast beer, only a small one but it cuts through the headache like nothing else. Today, I think, I’m going to get some new stuff round here. My man Mark just seems to have loads of bank accounts, with loads of money in all of them, and I am going to get one of those curved TV’s that are thinner than a piece of paper, to start with, because I can.

  And now of course the doorbell is ringing. Jason said to be, whatever you do, don’t answer the door. Put the chain on and don’t let anyone in. We’ll get this sorted, we’ll get the cash, we’ll neutralize the threat. He seems to think that just because he was in the army he can use really cool phrases like neutralize the threat. Why couldn’t he just say kill the fucker, like normal people, no he has to go and show that he is different. Still, I can’t complain too much, he is helping me out, even though I have to go and live with him for a while, not sure how that’s going to go.

  Still, the doorbell won’t stop ringing, until it does. But then of course there’s a shuffling and a noise outside and there’s suddenly all this rapping on the door and I stick my head under a cushion to ignore it. It’s going right through my head and I’m thinking well maybe I’ll answer, a few more cuts and it’s over and then at least the noise will stop and I can have a beer, until someone starts speaking.

  “Mr. Forth? Open up please. It’s the police. We really need to talk to you. We know you’re there.” Oh great. There’s my morning gone. Right, whatever you do, don’t say anything.

  I open the door.

  “Hello?” Sound casual.

  There are two people there, both men, both look quite cool with cropped hair and black suits, both with half smiles.

  “Mr. Forth?” says the man on the left.

  “Er, yeah, that’s me.”

  “Can we come in please? We’re from the police. I’m Detective Inspector Phil Maker, this is my colleague, Detective Inspector Justin Dredd.”

  “What, Dredd as in Judge Dredd?”

  “Funny guy” says Dredd, looking at Maker and ignoring me. I try.

  “Can I see some ID please?” I ask, casually.

  “What, you got something to worry about? Don’t trust the police? Maybe got something to hide?” Maker asks, and I just stare.

  “Only kidding!” he laughs and punches me on the shoulder. “Of course we have. Show him your ID, Justin. Here’s mine, look.”

  They both flash ID cards so quickly I can’t see anything, and walk in past me.

  “Nice place you have here” says Dredd. “Oh, look, he’s drinking a beer. Good thing to do on a Saturday morning. Wish I could do that. We have to work, don’t we Phil.”

  “Aaaah”, says Maker, scratching his back. “I guess one beer wouldn’t hurt. So long as it’s cold. In a frosted glass. I love beer in a frosted glass, don’t you. Get us a couple, cheers my friend. Always best to be relaxed when you have to talk about business.”

  They both sit down on the sofa, throwing my stuff onto the floor and look up at me expectantly. What the hell. I go and fetch them a beer.

  “No frosted glass?” asks Maker, disappointed.

  “Don’t hound the man” Dredd says sharply, “he got us a beer, didn’t he. Not everyone has frosted glasses to hand, he can’t just make them appear, can he.”

  “Well, you have them. Whenever…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know I have them, but I like beer in frosted glasses. Look at Mark here, look, he’s just got a half drunk bottle. Clearly a man who likes to drink his beer out of a bottle and not a frosted glass. We can’t all be the same. Variety, that’s the spice of life. Don’t judge him just because he’s got different tastes.”

  “Okay, okay” says Maker, putting his hands up in defense. “Sorry I opened my mouth. Mind you, the beer’s good. Not your common supermarket shit, is it, decent beer, decent brand, 5%, that’s what I like. Cheers.”

  “Erm…” I start.

  They both glance up at me.

  “Yes?” says Dredd innocently.

  “Erm… did you want something?”

  “Sorry? Oh, what you mean, like snacks. No, thanks anyway, need to look after my figure. I’m running a marathon next week.”

  “Are you?” asks Maker, surprised, “you never told me.”

  “Of course I did. You even sponsored me. Fifty quid, remember?”

  “No way?” Maker makes a show of looking surprised and a little worried. Dredd regards him for a couple of moments.

  “Aaah, you’re taking the Michael aren’t you. Nice one!” he laughs.

  Maker laughs as well, then looks at me. “Well, maybe I’ll have a snack. I don’t know, a toasted sandwich or something like that? Cheese and ham. You got one of those sandwich toasters? If not, just use the grill, don’t worry….”

  “Eh, eh, eh” Dredd interrupts. “Don’t hassle the man. You can’t start getting him to make you sandwiches like that. Especially toasted ones.” He looks at me. “Why don’t you sit down, make yourself comfortable?” indicating one of the armchairs with his head.

  I sigh, and sit down. “What’s this about, please?” I ask.

  They both look at me, then back at each other and laugh. “Sorry, my friend, we completely forgot to tell you didn’t we. How stupid of us. We come to your house, we drink your beer, we eat your sandwiches…”

  “Well, we don’t” says Maker.

  “Yeah, yeah, all right. The man has a point though. We should really tell him why we’re here.”

  “Yes, you’re right, let’s do that.”

  “Okay.”

  They both smile and look at me.

  “And?” I ask.

  “Why do you think we’re here?” asks Dredd, with a smile.

  “I don’t know!” I almost shout. “You want some beer?”

  “Hey, hey, hey, calm down. Worried, are you? Something to hide? Something troubling you?”

  I shake my head.

  Dredd nudges Maker. “I think he might do. Got a bit annoyed at that question. Always a sign. Maybe we should just book him.”

  Maker laughs. “Give the man a break. He’s probably completely innocent. Just hung over or something. Or maybe he has a bad temper.”

  “Yeah, true, but if he has a bad temper, maybe he could get out of control. Maybe he could…”

  “Good point” Maker nods sagely. “That’s good detective work. Always be looking out for signs.” He looks over at me. “Watch this man”, he says, “you could learn a lot.”

  “Like…” I reply, “why you are here?”

  They both laugh. Maker says “Funny. Good sense of humour. I like that. GSOH, that’s what they say, on those lonely heart ads. Mind you, you don’t need one of those, cos you’ve got a girlfriend…”

  “Had a girlfriend” corrects Dredd.

  “Good point. Had a girlfriend. Broke up, yesterday I believe. Any reason for that?” he asks, curiously.

  “Erm… is this something to do with Vanessa?” I ask carefully.

  “Eh! He’s quick” says Dredd. “You’re spot on in your analysis. This is absolutely something to do with Vanessa. Though why you would want to break up with her, I don’t know. Lovely lady, kind, good curv
es, great breasts…”

  “They were” muses Maker.

  “Yeah. Made us a lovely cup of coffee. You know, me, I don’t have a girlfriend, I’m single, and that’s kind of sad. Whereas you, you’ve got this lovely girlfriend, young, pretty, smelled nice…”

  “She did” says Maker.

  “And you just go and ditch her. I mean, that doesn’t really seem fair does it. She seemed really upset.”

  “She did” nods Maker. “Really upset. Mind you” he says, looking back at Dredd, “I think that might also have had something to do with her, well, situation.”

  “Yes, of course, her situation. Very distressing.” Dredd nods sadly.

  “What’s the matter with her?” I ask

  Dredd spun round to face me and snarls “What do you care?”

  “Erm…”

  He looks at Maker. “Don’t you just hate people like that. One minute he ditches her, such a lovely lady, not like he could do any better” (he glances in my direction) “but then, oh no, something’s wrong with her, he pretends suddenly that it’s an issue, that he cares. Well, he doesn’t fool me.”

  “Now, now” says Maker, “I know it’s easy to judge, Dredd, but let’s not jump to conclusions. When people stop being together, sometimes they do carry on caring for each other. Maybe it was difficult, maybe he had personal issues he had to resolve, maybe he just couldn’t see another way out.”

  “I don’t know” sniffs Dredd, “he looks like a bit of a dork to me. Sure, he’s got personal issues, I mean look at him, but don’t start to think that gives him the right to…”

  Maker puts his hand up. “Really, Justin, I think we need to stay professional. We’ll need to establish, of course, the details of their relationship, in due course, but I think for now we do probably need to answer his question.” He turns to me and looks very serious. “You see, the thing is, Mark, may I call you Mark, you see, the thing is that we had a call from Miss Vanessa Clark, a couple of days ago, very early Thursday morning. She was very distressed. Well, we got her to calm down and of course went straight over. Well, I can tell you, it was a mess. There was blood everywhere. At first we thought she must be dead, but then she was screaming and shouting quite a lot so clearly she wasn’t. Now, don’t jump to a conclusion that this was a hysterical female thing, even if you think it, that’s not fair. Really, not fair under the circumstances. She was in a lot of distress. Justin here was able to calm her down, he’s well versed in Zen techniques, you know deep breaths, eating paper bags, stuff like that. Never could really understand them myself, never really got round to them, but I must admit they do seem to be effective. Just like that, she was sat on her bed, lovely white bed, with beautiful white sheets, Egyptian cotton, weren’t they?”

  “Beautiful sheets” says Dredd.

  “But of course you’ll know that, having slept there loads of times. Anyway, beautiful as they were, they were soiled, damaged, covered in blood. I mean, there was lots of it and such a shame. Those sheets will never wash out, she’ll have to throw them away and that’s a crying shame. So Justin here is sitting next to her, calming her down, stroking her, nothing inappropriate mind, of course, just comforting her, though to be honest I wouldn’t blame him for being tempted…”

  “I’ll have to admit, I was tempted” agrees Dredd

  “… but of course, he’s a professional, so he just calms her down. And he notices that her hand is clenched around something, and gently, I mean really gently, you have to admire him, he gets her to unclench her hand, and you know what was in her hand?”

  They both look at me, expectantly, but I just shrug.

  “He doesn’t know” says Maker.

  “That’s what the man said” agrees Dredd, “though is he telling the truth?”

  “What was in her hand?” I ask.

  “Well, it…” and he pauses. “I can’t really even bring myself to say it, beautiful girl and all that. It was… well, it was the top half of her left ear. Had been cut off, with scissors I think. And sure enough, when Justin, ever so gently, lifted her hair, he saw that it was missing. Can you believe…” and he pauses for effect, “that someone would do that.”

  “Can you believe it” asks Dredd and they both stare at me again.

  “Well, who did it?” I ask.

  “Great question!” Maker slaps his knee. “What a question. You know, you could be a detective. Because that’s exactly the question that I asked myself. Justin here, on the other hand, caring soul that he is, called the ambulance, and I mean straight away. To be honest” and he leans forward, talking low “just between you and me, that’s what Miss Clark should really have done in the first place. We appreciate her calling us and everything, it made our life a bit easier, but she should really have called the ambulance. Looks like it will be okay though, looks like they’ll be able to rescue it, and sow it back on or whatever clever things they do these days, but she was lucky. And she has Justin to thank for that.” He glances over at Justin, who looks down, blushing.

  “But your question is exactly right. Who did it? What do you think?”

  “Me?” I ask. “Well, I’ve got no idea.”

  “Really?” asks Maker.

  “Really?” asks Dredd.

  “Erm, yeah, really. Didn’t Vanessa know? I mean, didn’t she see?”

  Maker shakes his head. “Brilliant. Really brilliant. If we don’t convict you for something, I am going to march you straight down to the police training academy and sign you up. We could do with instinctive police minds like yours. You see that Justin, it’s great. The man has instinct for this, and that’s really rare.”

  “Seems like he does”

  I shake my head. “And?”

  “Well, see, the thing is, she didn’t see whoever did this, because he did it in her sleep. I think it may have given her something, you know, a drug or something, to keep her asleep. Of course, I’m sure you’d have thought of this too, being an amateur detective, but I’m checking her blood for traces of drugs. Just to be sure, couldn’t see how he could have done it otherwise. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I guess”

  Maker lifts his hand. “But, and this is very important, we have two clues.”

  “Two of them” agrees Dredd.

  “The first, which is important, is that we know the time of the assault was between 11pm Wednesday night and 3:34am on Thursday. Eleven being the time that Miss Clark went to bed, and 3:34 being the time that she called us.”

  “Where were you at that time?” asks Dredd.

  “Now, now Justin, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s tell him the second clue first and see where that ends up. The second clue, and this is really important, is that someone had written a message on the wall of her bedroom. In her blood. Can you believe that?”

  “In her blood?” I repeat slowly.

  “The man’s a good listener” says Maker. “Again, good for police work. Yes, Mark, that’s right, in her blood. On the wall. And do you know what the message said?”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, it said, Ask Mark.”

  “Ask Mark what?” I say, maybe a little stupidly.

  “Ah. You see, that’s why you probably need training. You’re getting there, but you’re not quite there. You see, to a trained professional detective like me, that would be obvious. You see, you have to examine what’s happening here. We look at the situation, and what do we see?”

  I realize after a while he’s asking me. “Well, I guess, we see, erm, well, half an ear cut off.”

  “Exactly! And then what do we ask?”

  I scratch my head. “Why?” I say tentatively.

  “Good! Good! Excellent. We ask why. Why would anyone cut half an ear off this lovely lady?”

  “Lovely lady” muses Dredd, looking off into the distance.

  “And then we look at the wall, and it says…”

  Again a pause. “Ask Mark?” I ask.

  “Right again! So the answer t
o the question Why…. Is…?”

  “Ask Mark” I answer, nodding.

  “Cor-rect. And so, accompanying the lovely Miss Clark to the hospital, I ask her who the message could be referring to. And, being a brave soul, she explains to myself and Justin, exactly what happened, how you … cheated… on her…”

  Dredd leans into me, menacingly and I push myself back into my armchair.

  “… and how she left you messages, that you never answered …”

  Dredd is almost on top of me now, I can smell his breath.

  “… and how she cried herself to sleep watching sad films…”

  Dredd has his hand on my shoulder. He’s almost sitting on my lap. I don’t think he’s trying to be friendly.

  “… and then how she woke up, with a searing pain in her left ear, and how she panicked and called us. And the rest we’ve told you. So… I think we could probably agree with some degree of certainty that the Mark that we were supposed to ask was, well, was you.”

  “And so here we are” whispers Dredd into my ear.

  “You may want to give him a little space, Justin” says Maker pleasantly. Reluctantly, Dredd gets off me and sits back down next to Maker.

  “Oh, looks like I’ve finished my beer. It’d be lovely to have another one. Perhaps you thought to put some glasses into the freezer to frost up? No? Oh well, never mind. Another thing you could learn at the police academy. Always be thinking ahead. It’s vitally important. What do you think, Justin? We can make a detective of him yet.”

  “A whisky would be nice” Dredd growls at me.

  “I’ll, er, see what I can do” I nod and go to the kitchen. Ask Mark. Fuck’s sake. Ask Mark. What the hell. It must be a warning. From that bastard Jelfs. Or could it be anything to do with that band. That’s not my fault, why would they pick on me. No, no, it’s got to be Jelfs. Shit, I’ll text Jason, he’ll know what to do. Hands shaking, I pour myself a whisky and drain it and then get my phone out. My fingers aren’t moving properly on the keys as I try and text…. Jason… police are here…

  “Checking the football scores?” a cheerful voice comes from my right shoulder. I drop the phone and through some amazing piece of luck it lands in my pocket. “Er… yeah” I say, “yeah, just making those drinks.” Quickly I turn and get a couple of beers out of the fridge. I hand one to Maker, who’s standing very close.

  “Thanks” he nods happily. “What were they?”

  “What?”

  “The scores. What were the football scores?”

  “Oh… I, erm, didn’t get round to checking.” I move off to get a glass and pour a large measure of whisky for Dredd.

  “Well, go ahead, don’t stop on my account. I don’t want to come between a man and his football. I know how important it can be.”

  “No, erm, no, don’t worry I’ll do it later.”

  He shrugs. “If you say so. Come on, let’s get back to Justin. I know he can be a bit harsh, a bit judgmental, but he’s a good guy you know. He cares about people. That’s his problem. He cares about people and doesn’t mind people knowing it. That’s why he’s single you know. People just take advantage of him, they take what they want, and they leave him. And he’s left broken hearted every time. Can’t take it anymore. Poor guy. Makes my blood boil when I see what’s happened to him. You know, life just isn’t fair sometimes, it always happens to the decent people doesn’t it.”

  He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get this over with, shall we. No hard feelings. Then me and Justin will get back in our patrol car and go and hassle someone else in the afternoon. What do you say?”

  I can only nod, and we walk back to the living room.

  “It’s all right Justin,” nods Maker, “we’ll be all right. He’s a decent guy, Mark. He’ll want to do the right thing.”

  Dredd opens a notepad. “Now” he says, not looking at me, “Where were you between eleven Wednesday and three thirty four Thursday morning?”

  “Erm, well, I” I’m thinking. “I was at the pub Wednesday night…”

  “Which one?”

  “Erm, the Five Stars.”

  “Oh, nice” says Maker, “I go there often.”

  “When did you leave?” asks Dredd.

  “Erm, about midnight?” I ask.

  “And can anyone verify your presence there?”

  “Erm, yes, I mean no” Shit. I don’t want to give them Jason do I.

  “So you were there on your own?”

  “Yeah?” I say, uncertainly.

  “You drink on your own a lot? Don’t find it a bit uncomfortable? Don’t mind the stigma?” Dredd asks quietly.

  “Well, I, er, no, not really?”

  They both look at me. “Well, we can check” says Maker. Dredd is writing in his notebook. Shit, good point.

  Dredd spends ages staring at me. “Fine. So. You left the pub at eleven thirty…”

  I nod.

  “Funny,” he says, “you said midnight before.”

  “Yeah, I meant midnight, sorry.” I’m sweating.

  “Got to be careful there my friend” smiles Maker. “Half an hour can be critical. You know, someone can travel a few miles, murder someone else, chop up the body, put it in a car, drive it out to an incinerator, and dispose of it. All in half an hour. You need to be more precise.”

  “Sorry” I mutter.

  Dredd shoots a look at Maker “And what did you do after that?”

  “Well, I, er, came home and went to bed.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Didn’t go to a club. Didn’t go to pick up a woman, maybe visit a pro, something like that?”

  “No?”

  He’s looking at me like he doesn’t believe me. “Really, no” I say again. “I was tired, had had a few drinks, so I went to bed.”

  “Really? Didn’t walk over to Vanessa’s pad, let yourself in with your spare key, cut off half her ear and then leave again?”

  I gulp. “Erm, no. I mean, I wouldn’t have written Ask Mark on the wall in blood would I?”

  “The man has a point” says Maker. “That would really give it away, wouldn’t it?”

  Dredd thinks. “Possibly. Or possibly he was playing a double bluff. After all, you’ve pointed out he would make a good detective. Maybe he’s thinking, we’ll think that he wouldn’t be so stupid, so he discounts himself.”

  “Ah” nods Maker. “Clever. It’s possible.” He turns to look at me intently. “Did you do that, Mark” he asks, earnestly.

  I wipe the sweat off my brown. “No! I mean, why would I chop off her ear?”

  Maker puts his finger up. “Half her ear. You need to be more precise. Well, maybe you were warning her off. You heard all the messages from her, and though she needs to realize I’m serious, it’s over.”

  “But…” I say.

  “Feeling nervous?” asks Dredd.

  “Erm, well, yeah I guess.”

  “So you have no alibi from midnight until… when?”

  “Well, erm, Thursday when I went to work. I was in bed sleeping wasn’t I?”

  “On your own?”

  “Yes?”

  “Okay, okay” says Dredd, and he says precisely “No Alibi” as he writes something on his pad.

  “Now” says Maker, “let’s just assume for a minute that you didn’t do it”

  “Which is pretty unlikely” says Dredd.

  “Now, Justin, likely or not, we need to keep all options open don’t we. Now, if it wasn’t you…”

  “Pretty unlikely” mutters Dredd and Maker casts him a sharp look.

  “Then, who do you think would want to do something like that to her?”

  “Erm… I have no idea.” I’m wiping my brow again.

  “Well,” says Maker slowly, enunciating every word, “clearly that’s not true, because if you didn’t do it, someone else did, and if someone else did, they wrote the message Ask Mark, and if they wrote that, then clearly they knew you, and also clearly…”

  “Don’t
say clearly all the time, it’s annoying” says Dredd.

  “Sorry. Also, obviously, they knew that you knew them, and they’d know that you’d know why they’d done it, because they were making the point that you knew that they knew that you knew.”

  “Exactly” says Dredd.

  “So think, Mark, who do you know that would want to cut off Vanessa’s ear?”

  Shit. Have to think quickly. Not sure I could really tell them about Jelfs it may look a bit weird - well, officer, I died but just before I did I seem to have ended up in someone else's body, a doctor who was looking after me. And so I wanted to find out who killed me and I got hold of this guy who used to be my friend. I don't really know because I don't know anything about my old life. But I called him and he came round and warned me off and cut a pentagram on my chest. But because I'm an idiot I called him again and told him it wasn't over. So I reckon that it was him, he left me a message to leave him alone. First it's the ear next who knows.

  "Erm, well maybe she did it to herself?" 

  Dredd starts to get up but Maker puts a hand on his arm. I can see the veins on Dredd's head pop and his face goes red but Maker gives him a look and he doesn't say anything. for now.

  "Hmmm, interesting theory. You mean as a cry for help?" maker acts as if he's interested.

  My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket.

  "Erm, yes, or maybe as revenge?"

  "I don't understand" says Maker

  "Well, to get me into trouble. I mean, blame me for this and get revenge for dump..., I mean, splitting up with her...?"

  "You're blaming her for this?" Dredd looks really pissed off, he's talking really slowly and spit is drooling from his mouth.

  Maker's hand is firmly on Dredd's arm, holding him down.

  "Listen to the man" he says, "he may come up with good theories. After all they do say hell has no fury like a woman dumped, don't they. Although..." he says, turning to me, "she could have just blamed you couldn't she. She could have just said 'It was Mark', instead of smearing the wall with her own blood and a cryptic message. Or maybe, well maybe she could have thought that was too obvious, or what if you had an alibi? This way she has deniability. That's a good word, deniability, I like that. Is that what you were thinking, Mark? I like it. It’s an interesting theory.”

  Dredd leans in over to Maker, whispering something urgently in his ear. He keeps leaning over and pointing at me.

  Maker is relaxed, smiling, his eyes alight. From time to time he nods. Dredd sits back and looks at me angrily. I try to smile, hoping to defuse the situation, but he draws his finger across his throat and then points at me. Not a good sign, I guess.

  Maker says “Now Justin, calm down please. Mark, okay, it’s a theory. But please think, do you think of anyone that could have done this to Miss Clark, who may have a grudge against either you or her. A jealous ex-boyfriend maybe? “

  “Well, erm, no, I don’t know any of her ex-boyfriends.” I’m hoping that’s true.

  “Except for yourself” spits Dredd.

  “Okay, okay” says Maker. “Let’s all just calm down. Fine, you don’t know any of her ex-boyfriends, so it’s unlikely to be that. How about anything else? Anyone have a grudge against you? Anyone threatening you, for instance? Anyone you’re trying to extort money from, or blackmail, that’s trying to warn you off?”

  I gulp.

  “He looks like an extortionist” says Dredd.

  My phone starts to vibrate again.

  “Need to get that?” asks Maker.

  “Erm, no”

  “You sure?” says Dredd. “May be a new girlfriend?”

  “Or” says Maker, “may be the person you’re blackmailing. You never know. Why don’t you check.”

  I’m sweating so much my head feels like a river now. “No, no, it’s fine, honestly” I’m saying.

  “Well, okay, but don’t blame us if you miss an important call.”

  “We should take his phone” says Dredd. “Impound it. Use it as evidence when we throw him in a rotting cell.”

  “You’re putting me in jail?”

  “Yes” says Dredd.

  “No” says Maker. “Well, at least” he smiles, “not yet. So… are you extorting, or blackmailing anyone?”

  “M… me?” I stammer. “Erm, no?”

  “Are you sure?” he asks playfully.

  “Erm, yeah” I gulp, “pretty sure.”

  “Sweating a lot there, Mark. Sure you don’t have something to hide?”

  “We should take him down the station and beat the crap out of him” says Dredd.

  “Hmmm, yeah, maybe we should. It’s a much faster way to get to the truth.” Maker is looking at me intently. “What do you say, Mark? Shall we do that? Have a little fight in the station? Say you, well, let’s say, fell down the stairs resisting arrest? You wouldn’t go against us, would you? I mean, we’ve sat in your living room, we’ve drunk your beer…”

  “And whisky” says Dredd

  “Yes, and whisky, we’ve all become good friends. You’d stick by your friends, wouldn’t you?”

  My hair is soaking as I put my hand through it and nod uncertainly.

  “Good man!” he shouts, “of course he would!” and then he bursts out laughing. “Hey, don’t look so worried, we’re only kidding. We don’t do stuff like that anymore!”

  He laughs, and Dredd even starts laughing, and nervously I join in.

  “Come on, Justin, we’ve wasted enough of this man’s time, let’s go. You’ve been really cooperative Mark, thank you.” He gets up and hands me a card, and I can’t quite believe that they’re leaving.

  “If you can think of anything, or anyone, who may have done this, give us a call” he says cheerfully.

  “Unless we give you a call first” snarls Dredd.

  “Be seeing you!” says Maker. And they both leave.

  The first thing I do is find the rest of my bottle of whisky and put it to my lips. Then I collapse on the sofa exhausted. Then my phone starts vibrating again. I drag it out of my pocket and look at the display. Unknown number. I hit the green button and say hello.

  The voice is thin, raspy and low. “You’ve had two warnings. Stay away from Paris. It’s none of your business. Next time it’ll be worse than the ear, and it won’t be to her.” The phone clicks dead. Oh, for fuck’s sake.