‘Too right,’ Jack agreed. ‘You think you know Macbeth inside and out until you see the questions, then you know you don’t understand it at all.’
‘I like Shakespeare,’ Leo said, as his friends slowed their pace to match his.
Jack stopped and turned to him. ‘What?’
Leo shrugged. ‘Read most of them. Found a book of his plays in the charity shop, and started reading them. He’s a genius, man.’
Isaac joined in. ‘Must admit, I’ve actually read four or five, not curriculum ones. Leo’s right for once; he’s a cracking writer.’
Jack shook his head. Never in a million years would he have put these two down as Shakespeare fans. ‘So, what now? Hospital?’
‘Eh?’ Leo looked puzzled.
‘Leo, mate, you can hardly walk, and that invigilator had to avoid your leg all morning. It needs looking at.’
‘It’s better than it was. At least I can sleep now. Don’t worry about it, it gets easier every day. So – did you two finish?’
Jack nodded. ‘I did. And you’re changing the subject, Leo Parkes. What did you think, Isaac? Saw you finish.’
‘It was as I expected it to be. Not easy, but not that hard that it made me want to chuck away the pen. I used the last ten minutes or so to check through, and I don’t think I’d have changed anything. Lot of pressure though when you want at least an A in it.’
Jack ruffled his twin’s hair. ‘You’ll get it. And even if we only get Cs we don’t have to do resits for the A level. Leo? You think you did okay?’
Leo grinned at the serious faces of his friends. ‘Aced it. No worries.’
All three turned to each other and high-fived. ‘Aced it,’ they chorused.
As Ben Craig watched the video of the robbery, his face never altered.
‘You okay, Ben?’
‘Fine. Can I see it again?’
‘Yes, we’ll take it through at a slower speed. You ready?’
He nodded, and he watched the entire episode once more. He felt a lump in his throat as he viewed the last moments of the two women’s lives, women he knew so well, especially Carla. There had been a spark, a love, a desire between them he knew would never die. He didn’t want the CCTV clip to end; this would be the last time he would ever see her.
When it ended he sat back, and sighed. ‘The bastard.’
Holly nodded in agreement. ‘Nothing triggered recognition with you?’
‘Nothing at all. But really I knew it wouldn’t. If I’d known him, and I’m sure it was a bloke, I’d have recognised something about him as he legged it across that car park. I watched him every bit of the way, didn’t move a muscle while he was deciding what to do next, ’cos that’s what he seemed to do, and then saw him dump the gun. Last time I had sight of him he’d still got that bloody awful mask on. You’ve not found it?’
‘No, we think he hung on to that. We’ve had officers out day after day looking for it but nothing yet.’
Ben sat quietly for a moment. ‘It’s the only thing that’ll have DNA on it, isn’t it? That’s why he didn’t dump it. Not daft, is he? And he was fit, ran at some speed.’
‘Thank you for coming in, Ben. It’s much appreciated.’ She handed him her card. ‘If you think of anything…’
He took the card and kept his head down, looking at it. ‘I liked her a lot, you know, Carla. And it wasn’t feeling sorry for her, I genuinely liked her. There was a big age gap, but it didn’t seem to matter…’
‘Why would you have felt sorry for her?’ Holly waited, as if wondering what snippet was coming.
‘Him. Graham Andrews. Control freak, wouldn’t let her breathe without permission. He used to sit in that shop on that high stool at the counter, waiting for her to finish her shift, but as soon as he arrived, the punters started to go. He watched everything she did, and the atmosphere in the shop was awful when he was there.’
‘Really? Can you hang on a few minutes and add this to your statement, please? As a witness to this obsessive behaviour, it could become either irrelevant or mega important.’
‘Sure. Not a problem.’ He stood and pushed the typists chair back from the desk. He touched the top of the computer, almost as if saying goodbye to the woman he would never see again, and followed Holly as she handed him over to Lucy Young.
Diane Ford was troubled. She had little time to make the decision about whether to confess to knowing Kenny West; it was literally now or never. She couldn’t go to the DI any later, because he would want to know why she hadn’t said anything before. She could get away with it at the moment, by saying she hadn’t known Kenny’s surname when she’d had the one-night stand, but that get-out-of-jail card was active for only the next few minutes.
She paused outside Tom Fowler’s door, then knocked and waited for his response.
‘Diane,’ he said with a smile. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Not really, sir, it’s that something’s come up that has surprised me, to say the least. When I went to see Kenneth West, I didn’t realise I already knew him. I accidentally slept with him one night.’
Tom looked at her, trying to work out what to say next.
‘Accidentally?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, sir, definitely accidentally. I went out with my mates one night, and I met him. We got on really well, but both of us had a lot to drink. A lot,’ she repeated. ‘We got a taxi together, and he was going to drop me off, then continue to his home, but things got a bit hot in the taxi, and he got out with me.’
‘A bit hot…’
‘Yes, sir. Very hot.’
‘And you accidentally slept with him?’
‘Yes. I was completely drunk, and so was he, but he stayed all night. The next morning he left, saying he couldn’t see me again because he was married and he loved his wife. I put it down to me being stupid and not asking the question “Are you with someone?”’
‘I see. You didn’t think to mention this before you went to see him today?’
‘I never found out his surname, sir. I knew him as Kenny. It was quite a surprise when his son led me into the kitchen and there was Kenny. I had a cup of tea with him, collected the photographs and came back here. I wasn’t going to say anything, obviously there’s nothing between us and never really was except for that one night, but then I thought I’d better tell you. I’m sure there’s probably some rule against having dealings with ex-acquaintances.’
Tom managed to keep his face straight. Diane Ford was so serious, and to phrase her actions as ‘accidentally sleeping with Kenny West’ was something to brighten his day. ‘And those are the photographs?’
Diane looked down at the file in her hand, seemingly surprised to see they were still there. ‘Oh, yes.’ She handed them over, and left his office.
He tipped the photographs out onto his desk, still struggling not to laugh, and stashed the portraits to one side, concentrating on the group shots. The first three were clearly class only, as there seemed to be only about thirty pupils on each picture, but the last two years showed the entire school year. These were the ones on which he wanted to concentrate his thoughts.