Devil in the Detail by A.J. Cross (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

with the car and sat in the back with the gun. I knew Brendan would arrive shortly.’

The duty solicitor was now looking as though he needed some air.

She looked from Judd to Watts and back. ‘You two need to lighten up. It added realism to Mike’s shooting and put me in the clear as a second victim. It almost worked.’

‘And your sister? Did you kill her?’

She grinned. ‘No comment.’ Then she sat back. ‘I’ve got nothing else to say.’

A couple of hours later, they were in Watts’ office. ‘How were you so sure she was after a special hospital place?’ he asked.

Traynor shrugged. ‘From experience. I’ve met individuals like her over the years, not all of them female. Her tragic situation when I first met her made me slower than I might have been to identify her extreme personality problems.’

‘We all bought into it,’ said Judd. ‘Now we have her admission to killing her husband, plus the strong likelihood that she murdered her sister, it looks like she might get the sentence she wants.’

Watts shook his head ‘What I want is her banged up in general population.’ He looked at Traynor. ‘What’s your thinking?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she has a 360-degree change of stance in the weeks to come and claims to having been coerced into confessing to Mike Lawrence’s murder.’

Judd stared at him, looked at Watts. ‘She can’t. It’s all recorded.’

‘I’m merely flagging up her possible stance. People like Molly Lawrence view truth and rules as applying only to others.’

‘If you want my opinion, she’s ten stops past Barking—’ The phone rang. Watts reached for it. ‘Yeah?’ He nodded. ‘Thanks for chasing that down, Leila.’ He ended the call. ‘Jonah Budd’s probation officer. He was arrested earlier today for the November carjacking series and possession of a replica gun.’ He turned to Traynor who was lifting his backpack. ‘Thanks, Will.’

‘What for?’

‘Your insights on this whole case, on Molly Lawrence. For helping us identify what she really is. We appreciate it.’

He and Traynor walked from the office together. Traynor continued downstairs, turned and raised his hand.

Judd was suddenly at Watts’ side. ‘Will, wait. I’ve just taken a call from Gemma Lawrence about the dog. She doesn’t want him. She says to take him somewhere and get him rehomed. I told her to put it in writing.’

Traynor grinned up at them. ‘Not a problem. He’s been mine since the day we found him.’

They watched him go, then walked slowly down the stairs. ‘I don’t know about you, Judd, but I feel sorry for Mike Lawrence’s family. And Mrs Monroe.’

‘Families,’ said Judd, with a quick headshake.

They walked on. She looked up at him. ‘What’s the smile for?’

‘Seeing you in that interview room has reminded me of your first week here.’

She grinned. ‘You told me to go and get details on a suspect called Robin Banks.’

‘And you were back in less than ten seconds, saying you couldn’t find anything but would a Robin Bastard help?’ He stopped, looked down at her. ‘You drive me nuts sometimes, but I’ve never doubted how sharp you are. The work you did today was faultless.’ She glanced up at him, then away. They walked on.

‘Well done, kid.’

She rolled her eyes. He nudged her. She tutted. He nudged her again. She looked up at him and smiled. Seeing the young officer on duty, he diverted to reception. ‘Reynolds!’

Watching, Judd murmured, ‘God, what’s he done or not done, now?’

Watts reached the desk. ‘Relax, son. I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about the information you got from your visit to Molly Lawrence’s office.’ He pointed his thick forefinger at him. ‘It was first-rate. It’s now part of the evidence we’ve got on her.’

‘What did he get?’ asked Judd as they walked away from a glowing Reynolds.

‘Some very useful office tittle-tattle. Molly Lawrence was in the habit of receiving calls from what Reynold’s informant there described as her “fancy man”. It seems that informant took it on herself to check the phone number.’ He nodded. ‘That’s right. Engar.’

A brief silence grew between them. Judd asked, ‘Have you seen Julian?’

‘At around seven this morning. He’s probably back in Manchester by now. He left while we were tied up with the Lawrence interviews.’

Judd looked miffed. ‘He just went while I was beating my brains out, doing my job?’

‘Afraid so. All part of being a career woman—’

‘Careerist.’

‘He said to tell you that he’d ring you.’

‘That’s up to him.’

THIRTY-THREE

Mid-April

Watts had been up since six a.m., drafting a letter for Brophy. He was giving it a final read when his phone rang. It was Traynor. ‘I rang headquarters and was told you’re on leave.’

‘Yes, working on my first step to getting a life away from the job.’ There was a brief silence.

‘I see. Have you seen the email from the Crown Prosecution Service?’

Watts’ pen was tracking the draft. ‘Which email is this?’

‘Molly Lawrence is demanding a move.’

The pen stopped halfway through deleting a word. Details of the Lawrence trial weeks before flooded his head. Brendan Lawrence had offered a guilty plea to a charge of obstructing a police investigation, plus his part in the events which had led to his brother’s death, for which he was eventually given five years. Against the advice of her defence lawyer, Molly Lawrence had given evidence, presenting herself in court as wronged, misjudged and badly used. In short, everybody’s victim. The jury hadn’t bought it. The judge had given her life in prison for the murder of Michael Lawrence and ruled that the death of her sister should remain open on the case file.

Watts recalled his heart sinking when he heard the judge’s words. He’d been hoping for an indeterminate sentence. As the situation now stood, she could be out in fifteen years, depending on what a parole board was told about her, how slick she was at presenting herself and her case to them.

‘No chance! She’s only done a couple of months.’

‘According to my contact at the CPS, she’s requesting a move to a