‘I see.’ He poked his ear, examined the end of his finger, then said, ‘Did they ever catch him?’
‘Who?’
‘Jack the Ripper.’
Poe sighed. The man was clearly an idiot. ‘Yes, they caught him in Spain last year, didn’t you hear? He was one hundred and seventy years old.’
Bradshaw giggled.
‘How many weddings did you do that day, Mr Smythe?’ Flynn said before he figured out he’d been insulted.
‘We had seven scheduled.’
‘And what number wedding were you on when the . . . incident occurred?’
‘You mean the wedding when the best man punched the groom for sleeping with his wife or the wedding when the murder happened?’
‘The murder, Mr Smythe. The NCA doesn’t issue crime numbers and we aren’t interested in family brawls.’
Smythe looked up, like the answer was written on the ceiling. ‘It was the first wedding after lunch, so it’ll have been number four.’
‘The middle one then.’
‘No, the last one.’
‘But you said you had seven scheduled.’
‘We did. But the last three were cancelled. It’s why I need my crime number. I’m a victim here as well. This has left me well out of pocket. But to answer your question, it was the fourth weddingandthe last wedding.’
Poe smiled. ‘He has a point. If someone got murdered ten minutes beforemywedding, I’d think twice about putting on my top hat.’
‘You won’t be wearing a top hat, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘You’ll be wearing a black suit from Marks and Spencer. And that’s only because your work suits smell of fish.’
‘You’re getting hitched,’ Smythe said. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ Poe replied.
‘Do you have a venue? I can do sniper’s rates for you.’
‘Sniper’s rates?’
‘That’s what we’re calling the discounts we’re having to offer.’
‘And what are you calling the welcoming drinks?’ Poe asked. ‘Headshots?’
‘Hey, that’s not bad. Let me make a wee note of that.’ He tapped something into his phone. ‘And I know you were joking, but ninety-six per cent of my bookings have been cancelled since the murder. Not postponed,cancelled. I can’t even sell next year’s Valentine’s Day package and that’s our busiest day by a mile. Gretna Green’s economy is built around the wedding business, and right now, the wedding business istanking. So yes, we’re offering discounted packages. Do you want one or not?’
‘I’d rather stand in dog shit,’ Poe said.
Smythe got to his feet. Clenched his fists. Poe stayed seated.
‘Sit down, Mr Smythe,’ Flynn said.
Smythe didn’t. ‘He’s a piss-taking bastard!’
‘If you don’t sit down right this second, I’m nicking you and making you wait for Police Scotland in the middle of the car park.’
Smythe sat.
