Gathering her wits and pushing Detective Columbo and DI Frost from her mind, Billie followed the direction of Aiden’s outswept arm, entered his office and took a seat. They exchanged pleasantries about the genial location of his offices in a newly-converted mill, and about the turn in the weather, before Aiden got down to business.
Settling into his chair that rocked slightly with each movement, he rested his arms on the side and with his hands clasped together, looked relaxed and in control as he spoke. ‘Right, Billie, it’s okay if I call you Billie, isn’t it?’
Billie nodded, all of a sudden nervous. This was getting a bit real, serious.
Aiden began. ‘Stan has given me permission to speak frankly and instructed me to make any information I’ve gathered available. He clearly trusts you and is convinced that between us we can unearth some new evidence to exonerate him.’
Billie sighed, the weight of the task and the huge responsibility already daunting. ‘I know, but I’ve already explained to him that I haven’t really got any contacts in the force, not that that will be of any help. I was only with them for eleven months before my… before I was attacked. I honestly don’t think I can help him.’
‘Yes, Stan explained briefly what happened. Are you fully recovered? He said you struggled afterwards and it caused problems between you.’
Billie nodded, bristling slightly that such a catastrophic event, not just for her, had been described as a mere struggle. One she had no intention of discussing with a stranger. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be fully recovered from it. The wound has healed and left a scar, not just on my skin but here too.’ Billie tapped her head then continued. ‘But I’m doing okay and need to focus on Stan, so tell me, have you found something we can use?’
Billie saw a flicker of understanding in Aiden’s eyes then he nodded, and without further comment picked up an A4 manila folder and slid it across the table to Billie.
Rather than open it, Billie preferred to hear whatever news it contained from Aiden, suspecting also there would be photographs of Kelly that for many reasons she had no desire to see, so instead she held Aiden’s gaze and waited for him to speak.
‘To be honest, Billie, we’ve drawn a blank. Tom, my tech guy has dug around and taken her life apart but as far as hard evidence goes we have nothing. The police took her phone and devices as soon as Stan was arrested. It’s protocol now but there was nothing on them that implied she was lying. Every piece of her testimony stacked up, even if it was her word against his. I was hoping that they’d missed something, a text, an email, even a photo to suggest she was a liar. Even her bank accounts show nothing untoward.’
‘But we have to find something, anything to give him hope. He’s getting desperate in there and recent developments between the two of us have probably made the situation a whole lot worse.’ Billie could feel herself blushing and shuffled in her chair, uncomfortable under the detective’s scrutiny and wishing she’d kept her gob shut.
‘Oh, he didn’t mention anything when he rang. Has something happened that I should be aware of?’
Billie sighed. ‘When he rang you he didn’t know, I’ve only just told him. You might as well know it all and I suppose you need to understand where his head’s at.’ Glancing upwards she was relieved to see that Aiden wasn’t eyeing her suspiciously, he merely waited.
It dawned on her that in his line of work nothing would surprise him so the news of a secret baby wouldn’t cause him to flinch, or make the front page ofThe Private Detective’s Weekly. After taking a sip of her coffee, Billie adopted Aiden’s pose, attempted to relax and told him all about why she left the force, their break-up, and Iris.
* * *
If Billie had had to describe how she felt in one word, it would be ‘drained’, like her energy was being sucked into a swirling vortex then dragged down a black tunnel before ebbing away, probably on some shitty beach full of brown frothy slime and plastic waste.
Aiden had listened patiently and certainly hadn’t judged. Instead he’d told her he’d seen PTSD countless times during his years on the force. He understood and for that and his patience, Billie was grateful. When he looked at his watch then broke the silence, cutting though the serious atmosphere in the room, Aiden’s tone was friendlier, more pally than professional.
‘Listen, it’s almost lunchtime and you look wiped out so why don’t we get out of here and grab something to eat. We can continue this in a more relaxing environment and anyway I’m starved. What do you think? And I promise I won’t put it on Stan’s expenses.’ Aiden grinned, his grey eyes held a hint of mischief.
Billie wasn’t expecting that or the big flappy butterfly that was going crazy inside her chest and to make matters worse, she knew she was blushing, which annoyed her. She was acting like a silly teenager for God’s sake.
‘I’m quite okay here, honestly, there’s no need to go to any trouble. Anyway, we haven’t gone through the file and there could be something important. What if you’ve missed something?’
‘I promise you, I’ve been through it, and so has Tom. There isn’t anything in black and white that will help Stan, but there are some interesting anomalies that I’d like to discuss, more a hunch than anything. We dug about on social media and delved into Kelly’s private life and that turned out to be far more interesting than her credit history. Now, do you want some lunch or not?’ Aiden tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrows slightly.
‘Okay, I’m intrigued and I’m starving too, so let’s go. What’ve we got to lose?’ As Billie said the words her heart contracted slightly.
This was no time for being flippant, not while Stan was locked up just down the road, probably eating crap food and imagining what was going on inside this office, hoping and praying it would be good news. For a second Billie hesitated and regretted agreeing to lunch with a handsome, rather cocksure man who was already in reception leaving instructions with Karen.
‘And if Jed rings, will you tell him where I am. He’s supposed to be in court all day but said he might pop in if he finishes earlier than expected.’ Aiden signed whatever document Karen had passed to him and once he’d returned her pen, opened the door with a flourish, allowed Billie to pass then pointed the way in a chivalrous manner.
Billie was becoming more flustered by the minute, nonplussed by the ever-changing persona of Aiden Walsh, private investigator. Memories of jack-the-lad detectives and rumours of affairs between married officers flooded back and now, she was off to lunch with an ex-copper who definitely had a glint in his eye. As they made their way down the worn mill steps, Billie attempted polite conversation.
‘So who’s Jed? Is he one of your employees? Has he been working on Stan’s case too?’ Billie waited as the modern glass doors swooshed open. As they stepped onto the pavement the glare of winter sun caused her to shield her eyes.
‘Oh no, Jed’s a barrister and, for better and worse, my husband. He deals with the dreary side of the law, financial dastardly dealings, I’m more cut-throat, you know, cheating husbands, bitter wives, missing persons, even the odd dog-napper.’ Aiden was marching along with Billie at his side and as they stopped at the pelican crossing he turned and gave her a wink and an amused smile. ‘So there’s no need to worry, you’ll be quite safe. I really do just want some lunch and a chat, okay?’
Billie threw back her head and laughed, just as the green man started flashing and beeping. As they crossed the road then headed into Wetherspoons, she allowed herself a moment to embrace the glimmer of hope that Aiden’s hunch, whatever it was, would somehow set Stan free.
16
The pub was filling up as Billie said goodbye to Sue and disconnected the call, safe in the knowledge that Iris was fine and was watching CBeebies with Darren. The difference in Sue was remarkable and although nothing was going to replace the two stones in weight she’d lost, not overnight anyway, Iris had definitely put a spring in her step. Billie could also do something about the frizzy streaks of grey in Sue’s usually shiny, bobbed hair, and be the company she so clearly lacked since her fair-weather friends had turned their backs.
