Off Minor by John Harvey Read Free Book Online Page A

day, I’ll be surprised if it greatly matters.”
    Resnick got back to the station to find Graham Millington closeted in his office with Kellogg and Divine. Millington hadn’t quite dared to take Resnick’s chair, but hovered near it instead, as if he might be invited to sit at any moment. Divine, of course, sportsman that he was, had been working his way through Benson and Hedges Silk Cut, giving a pretty fair impression of Sellafield on a cloudy day.
    “Sorry,” Millington said, straightening not quite to attention, “like open house out there.”
    Resnick shook his head. “I assume you’re not in here to discuss the dinner and dance?”
    “No, sir.”
    Resnick wafted the door back and forth a few times, settled for leaving it partly open. “Better fill me in,” he said.
    Millington looked pointedly at Mark Divine and waited for him to start. Resnick listened, observing carefully: the way Divine leaned forward, shoulders hunched as if locking into a scrum, the eagerness in his voice; Lynn, more centered on her chair, soft skepticism on her face; and Millington—outside of the moral righteousness that went with a well-tended garden and a clean shirt, whatever he might be thinking was a mystery. Aside from the fact that he’d been sergeant for too long now, couldn’t understand why the promotion he surely deserved still seemed so far away.
    There was a moment after Divine had finished that they looked, all three of them, directly at Resnick, leaning back behind his desk. Outside, officers answered telephones, identifying themselves, rank and name; a single laugh, harsh and loud, broke into a racking cough; someone whistled the chorus of “Stand By Your Man” and Resnick smiled as he saw Lynn Kellogg bridle.
    “He actually said that?” Resnick asked. “‘I used to watch her’?”
    “Very words. Look.” He held his notebook towards Resnick’s face. “No two ways about it.”
    “No chance you had a tape running?” Millington said.
    Divine scowled and shook his head.
    “Clearly, you think it means something,” said Resnick.
    “Sir, you should have seen him. When he said it, about watching her. He didn’t mean, yes, well, I used to bump into her in the street, knew who she was. He didn’t mean I used to see her, casual-like. What he was on about was something more.”
    “You didn’t question him about that? Try to confirm your suspicions.”
    “No, sir. I thought if I did, then, I mean, he might, you know, clam up.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “One of the plods is treating him to a cup of tea.”
    “Thinking he knew who it was, lying there underneath all that debris,” Resnick said, “that doesn’t have to be so surprising. He’d have had to be a blind man not to have read about it, seen her face. And if he knew her anyway, by sight at least, there might have been more reason for her to stick in his mind than most.”
    “But this other, sir …”
    “Yes, I know. We’ll talk to him again, clearly.” Resnick suddenly conscious of the churning of his stomach, just because the morning with the pathologist had turned his mind away from food, that didn’t mean his body had to agree.
    “Lynn?”
    “Sounds a bit odd, right enough. Then again, if there was anything iffy, would he come right out and say it?”
    “Stupid or clever,” suggested Millington.
    “The girl,” Resnick said to Lynn, “Sara. Did she say anything about the youth’s reactions when they realized what they’d found?”
    “Only that he was frightened. They both were. It took them over an hour, you know, before they made up their minds to come in and report it.”
    “Did she say which one of them was hanging back?”
    “Says it was the lad, sir.”
    “Mark?”
    “He never said exactly, just that they spent ages wandering around; he did say as the girl was upset, that’s why they went back to his place, calm her down before walking round here.”
    “All right.” Resnick got to his feet and Divine and Kellogg did