‘You know I was on the fucking High Road. You know because I was with Den, Steve and Deano for a beer. Your lads were probably talking to them a few minutes after I left. And you know because woodentop number one out there saw me walk past the scene. He was on my side of the road as the Teletubbies were getting ready to hoover the corpse. So don’t play me for a cunt.’

Felgate watched in silence as he scooped out and squeezed the last teabag. Added the obligatory milk and two to the constables’ cups and headed for the front door.

‘No nicking Roz’s spoons. She won’t hold back like I did.’

He took two cups out to the waiting officers. Shared a quick joke with them, then went back in. Found the inspector drinking his tea and looking shifty.

‘Come on then. I’m presuming it’s Warren, or why would you be here? And cut the “I can neither confirm nor deny” bullshit, right?’

Felgate sighed. ‘Off the record. Yes, it’s Warren. Someone put a bullet between his eyes at close range. Close enough for powder burns.’

Mickey grimaced. ‘They’ll be scraping his brains off the wall then.’ Another rehearsed line, which got him an appraising look. ‘What?’

He nodded slowly, wearing his “best absorbing new information” face.

‘A .22? That’s pro stuff. Either that or a very enthusiastic amateur.’

‘Yes, well we’re not ruling out any possibility. Any possibility.’

‘Well you can rule my fucking Mickey right out, right now!’

He’d known Roz was listening, almost counted down to her interjection. Jason looked nervous for the second time in five minutes. With, Mickey knew, fair justification.

‘When his sister got killed by that bastard’s dodgy pills, he never once showed any sign of being out for revenge. And we both know he could have. It’s not like that bastard Margetson ever gave a shit. But he rode the punch like the man he is. And now, just as we’re getting over it, you come here accusing him of—’

‘Roz love?’ She stopped in mid-flow, looking across the kitchen at him. ‘Let me finish up with Jason so that we can get up to bed, eh?’

She nodded. Fired one last gigawatt glare at the inspector and stalked out.

‘She’s right though.’ He leaned back and wiped a hand wearily across his face. ‘I never went looking for payback, as well you know. Not even when he turned up at the funeral. Because that bastard’s whole life was one long act of self-harm. It was only a matter of time before someone punched his ticket. Wasn’t it?’

‘When did you get to the pub?’

‘What, and you’ve not already asked Deano?’

‘He says he can’t remember.’

‘I bet he does. Not your biggest fan, our Deano. An old-fashioned copper, that’s what he is.’