Impression (DI Gardener 4)

“You’re turning into your mother, you are.”

“Nothing wrong with that. She’s got men weighed up.”

“Is that why she never has one?”

“She hasn’t got one because she doesn’t need one.” Vanessa helped herself to a couple of bourbons from the biscuit tin. “Anyway, let’s get back to the point. Why are the police all over the car lot today if they were only asking questions yesterday?”

“I’ve told you, I don’t know. All I know is we got a phone call to say the police were on their way, and the whole place was being shut down until they’d finished their inquiries.”

“Are you telling me the truth, Alan?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She banged her cup on the table. “For God’s sake we can’t afford this. You’ve been out of work for twelve months, we haven’t had a chance to get straight yet.”

“Tell me about it. You think I don’t know?”

“We’ve still got mortgage arrears to clear. Look what we had to cut back on. We’ve cancelled the Sky system. We couldn’t go out because we couldn’t afford a babysitter. He’s been up to no good, that Barry Morrison, you mark my words. And if he’s up to no good, you can bet that brother of his will be involved.”

“You should write books with your imagination. They’re just a couple blokes who have made good. They both work hard, and one of them was good enough to give me a job when no one else would.”

“Aye,” she said, sipping coffee. “And have you asked yourself why?”

“Because he needed someone.”

“He hasn’t involved you in anything, has he?”

“Like what?” Sargent fished out another biscuit for himself.

“You tell me. I know what you’re like. You don’t like to say no. How many times have you come home and told me that you spent most of the night delivering packages and collecting money, that you hadn’t seen a passenger?”

“All I’ve done is drive a bloody taxi for him. He said that night shifts were pretty slow, and they’d picked up a new contract, subletting for a local courier company. I was delivering equipment.”

“At night? I’ll bet you were. You worked some strange hours, that’s all I know.”

“That’s what taxi drivers do. But I said I’d work all hours so we could get back on our feet quicker. I was sick of being out of work, sick of seeing you and James having to make do.”

“I’d rather we made do than you get involved in something illegal.”

Sargent sighed. He stood up and pushed his chair under the table.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Upstairs. See what I can find to wear tonight.”

“You’re not still going?”

“What do you mean, not going? Of course I’m going. It’s Steve’s stag night. I’m the best man. What’s he going to think if I’m not there?”

“I’m sure he’ll understand, Alan. If you’re laid off and can’t work, we have no money coming in. I’m not borrowing off my mother again. She kept us afloat last time, but I’ve got more self-respect than that.”

“Vanessa, I can’t miss his stag night. He’ll never forgive me.”

“Of course he will. He’ll understand. If sacrifices have to be made, better start now.”

Sargent faced her. She was the same height as him, but skinny, with long black hair and a pointed nose. What she lacked physically she more than made up for with her mouth. Vanessa was very feisty, which was why he’d married her, and it was still a quality he loved. Only sometimes…

“Vanessa, it’s one night. I’ve been putting a little aside to cover it.”