Meakin sat down again. “Tell you the truth, I liked Blundy’s columns. Don’t tell anyone I said that, especially not my wife. She reckons he was a bastard who hated women, but . . . well, he said things I’d never dare say, and that’s always good to read, isn’t it? He wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.”

“That didn’t work out so well for him, did it?” said Sellers.

“What’s the deal with the silver Audi?” Gibbs asked Meakin.

“All right, look, I’m absolutely sure this has got nothing to do with Blundy’s murder,” said Meakin, his face still red. “I’m going to feel horrible for telling you, and I still think I should probably keep it to myself, but . . . like you say, it’s a murder case. The driver of the Audi that turned round, Nicki Clements—”

“How do you know her name?” Sellers asked.

“I’ve met her before.”

“Fucked her?”

“No. Definitely not.” Meakin looked alarmed.

“In a battered women’s shelter,” Gibbs murmured so that only Sellers would hear.

“Have you interviewed her?” Meakin asked. “What did she say about why she did a U-turn?”

Sellers relayed the story of the missing side mirror. “We think it’s a lie,” he said. “It’s true she had to go to her kids’ school and back several times that day—we’ve verified that, and it’s the only part of her story that’s genuine. Elmhirst Road’s the only sensible route to the school. By bypassing it, she added half an hour to each of her trips. We don’t believe for a second that her desire to avoid driving past Damon Blundy’s house had anything to do with a mirror.”

“No, it didn’t,” said Meakin. “But it also had nothing to do with a murder. Her detours weren’t about Blundy.” He sighed. “I suppose at least once you know, you’ll be able to rule her out as a murder suspect. That’s some consolation.”

“Robbie, you’re not making sense,” said Sellers. “Do you have some reason for caring what happens to Nicki Clements?”

“I gave her my word I wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t want to let her down, that’s all. I felt sorry for her in the end.”

“Robbie, you’re making no sense,” said Sellers. “The end of what?”

“What were her detours about if not avoiding a murder scene?” Gibbs asked.

“Me,” said Meakin. “She wanted to avoid me on Elmhirst Road on Monday. Nearly as much as I wanted to avoid her.”

WOMEN SEEKING MEN

IntimateLinks > uk > all personals

Reply: [email protected]

Posted: 2010-06-03, 23:10PM GMT

I Want a Secret

LOCATION: LONDON

I don’t know why I’m doing this, or if anyone will read it. Nor do I know what I want specifically. So, that’s helpful, isn’t it?

Let me try to do better.