Read Online Poisoned Ground: A Hakim and Arnold Mystery (Hakim & Arnold Mystery 3) by Barbara Nadel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Nadel
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was also quite permissible for him to refer to ‘his’ staff. But he was also sending her a message and they both knew it.
‘Thanks for the heads-up,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll do whatever is appropriate, Mrs Mayfield. I have confidence in you.’
He strode off purposefully. Bad leg or no bad leg, Mr Cotton could put on a turn of speed when he wanted to. He could also leave a nasty metaphorical smell in his wake. Because Shirley knew that she would do whatever was ‘appropriate’ should that forensic patient contact her and she didn’t like herself for it.
5
Feeling excited and pissed off at the same time was exhausting, especially after a long evening shift followed by not much sleep. Susan staggered out of bed and walked unsteadily into her kitchen. She was useless before her first cup of tea. As she waited for the kettle to boil and flung a teabag into a mug, she wondered whether Lee would pop in on his way to the job he had on. Even though she was working every evening that week, he was going to stay over for a few days anyway. If she let him.
When he’d first called and told her that he was coming to Southend, Susan had been excited. She’d accepted that he had to work for much of that time and she’d been happy when he’d asked her if he could stay. But then he’d gone on about that old copper woman he used to work with when he was in the police. She’d had some sort of operation on her throat and when he’d been to see her in hospital she hadn’t been able to speak. It had spooked him and he’d clearly been worried. And while Susan accepted that it was normal to worry about a sick friend, to go on about it to someone who didn’t give a stuff had been a bit tiresome. And weird. But then, the first time she’d met Lee it had been obvious that Vi Collins had been jealous. The old girl had a thing for him and Susan wondered why he encouraged it by hanging out with her. Lee said it was because it was alwaysuseful for private investigators to have contacts in the police. But Susan wondered whether he also enjoyed the attention.
She made her tea and took it back to bed with her. Once she felt human, she’d get up. She hoped that her mood would lighten. She didn’t want to be pissed off with Lee when he arrived. He was the best bloke she’d been out with for years and she didn’t want to frighten him off by appearing too clingy. Men like him didn’t walk into the casino every day. Most of them were either loud-mouthed car dealers who fancied themselves as Mafia dons or pathetic gambling addicts, too old and nervous to go on the internet to feed their habit. Then there was the odd high roller. At the moment there were two, a young black guy from south London and an old man who always dressed up in a full evening suit when he played the tables. The younger man spent heavily and won heavily, while the old guy was all about big stakes and even bigger losses. Whatever happened he was, strangely, always cheerful.
Lee had been such a breath of fresh air in the darkened, velvet atmosphere of the casino. He hadn’t gambled what he couldn’t afford – only one of those coppers had. He’d very clearly just been out for a laugh and that simplicity, as well as his dark good looks, had attracted Susan. She’d been out with Tony Soprano wannabes in the past and she was done with them. All the flash cars that turned out to belong to rich customers, as well as the mortgaged-to-the-hilt houses and unpaid credit card bills, were as tiresome as the men themselves. As far as she could tell, Lee was honest. He had a scruffy old car, a small flat in Forest Gate and a business that he openly admitted was struggling. He still supported a teenage daughter who lived with his ex-wife and he smoked more than Susan would have liked – she’d have to work on him about that. But he didn’t drink at all, which wasrefreshing. Most middle-aged blokes did drink and, as a consequence, talked a lot of
‘Thanks for the heads-up,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll do whatever is appropriate, Mrs Mayfield. I have confidence in you.’
He strode off purposefully. Bad leg or no bad leg, Mr Cotton could put on a turn of speed when he wanted to. He could also leave a nasty metaphorical smell in his wake. Because Shirley knew that she would do whatever was ‘appropriate’ should that forensic patient contact her and she didn’t like herself for it.
5
Feeling excited and pissed off at the same time was exhausting, especially after a long evening shift followed by not much sleep. Susan staggered out of bed and walked unsteadily into her kitchen. She was useless before her first cup of tea. As she waited for the kettle to boil and flung a teabag into a mug, she wondered whether Lee would pop in on his way to the job he had on. Even though she was working every evening that week, he was going to stay over for a few days anyway. If she let him.
When he’d first called and told her that he was coming to Southend, Susan had been excited. She’d accepted that he had to work for much of that time and she’d been happy when he’d asked her if he could stay. But then he’d gone on about that old copper woman he used to work with when he was in the police. She’d had some sort of operation on her throat and when he’d been to see her in hospital she hadn’t been able to speak. It had spooked him and he’d clearly been worried. And while Susan accepted that it was normal to worry about a sick friend, to go on about it to someone who didn’t give a stuff had been a bit tiresome. And weird. But then, the first time she’d met Lee it had been obvious that Vi Collins had been jealous. The old girl had a thing for him and Susan wondered why he encouraged it by hanging out with her. Lee said it was because it was alwaysuseful for private investigators to have contacts in the police. But Susan wondered whether he also enjoyed the attention.
She made her tea and took it back to bed with her. Once she felt human, she’d get up. She hoped that her mood would lighten. She didn’t want to be pissed off with Lee when he arrived. He was the best bloke she’d been out with for years and she didn’t want to frighten him off by appearing too clingy. Men like him didn’t walk into the casino every day. Most of them were either loud-mouthed car dealers who fancied themselves as Mafia dons or pathetic gambling addicts, too old and nervous to go on the internet to feed their habit. Then there was the odd high roller. At the moment there were two, a young black guy from south London and an old man who always dressed up in a full evening suit when he played the tables. The younger man spent heavily and won heavily, while the old guy was all about big stakes and even bigger losses. Whatever happened he was, strangely, always cheerful.
Lee had been such a breath of fresh air in the darkened, velvet atmosphere of the casino. He hadn’t gambled what he couldn’t afford – only one of those coppers had. He’d very clearly just been out for a laugh and that simplicity, as well as his dark good looks, had attracted Susan. She’d been out with Tony Soprano wannabes in the past and she was done with them. All the flash cars that turned out to belong to rich customers, as well as the mortgaged-to-the-hilt houses and unpaid credit card bills, were as tiresome as the men themselves. As far as she could tell, Lee was honest. He had a scruffy old car, a small flat in Forest Gate and a business that he openly admitted was struggling. He still supported a teenage daughter who lived with his ex-wife and he smoked more than Susan would have liked – she’d have to work on him about that. But he didn’t drink at all, which wasrefreshing. Most middle-aged blokes did drink and, as a consequence, talked a lot of
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