The Madam. Jaime Raven

actually been expecting you to show up,’ he said. ‘Soon as I got wind that your girlfriend was in town and asking lots of questions.’

      I stared at him. ‘How the hell did you know that?’

      ‘Come off it, Lizzie. We’re not stupid. Some strange bird looking like Al Capone suddenly appears on the scene and starts pumping people about things that are none of her business. Didn’t it occur to you that we’d get suspicious, especially when she began touting for information on a killing that happened years ago?’

      ‘How did you make the connection?’

      ‘It wasn’t difficult,’ he said. ‘She has a few contacts down in Portsmouth. One of them happens to be a snout for me. He alerted me that she was snooping around and we did some checking.’

      ‘So why didn’t you talk to her?’

      ‘No reason to. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And besides, we guessed that she was sniffing around for you. I’m assuming you’re here to tell me why.’

      ‘In a second.’ I took the folded note from my jeans and leaned over the desk to hand it to him. ‘First look at that.’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘Someone put it on my girlfriend’s windscreen after we left the car for a short time.’

      He held the note between his fingers as though the paper might be radioactive.

      Then slowly he unfolded it and read aloud, ‘“Let it rest, Lizzie. Open up old wounds and you’ll regret it.”’

      He grunted and dropped the note onto the desk.

      ‘So what do you make of it?’ I asked him.

      He looked at me quizzically. ‘What am I meant to make of it?’

      ‘Well, if I’m not mistaken that’s a threat. And aren’t the police supposed to protect people who are threatened?’

      ‘This is a joke, right?’

      Did I expect any other reaction? Probably not. Scar had told me the cops wouldn’t take it seriously. But, at least the note had given me an excuse to drop in on Ash, and that was good enough for now.

      ‘I want to know who wrote it,’ I said. ‘And I’d like to know if I should be scared.’

      He threw a glance at McGrath. ‘So what’s your take on it, detective? Do you think we’re in the business of protecting confessed killers?’

      To his credit, McGrath chose to ignore the question. He said, ‘Where was the car parked, Miss Wells?’

      ‘At The Court Hotel,’ I said. ‘We were inside for about half an hour. My girlfriend picked me up from Holloway and we drove there.’

      ‘Are you sick in the fucking head or something?’ Ash snarled. ‘What were you doing going back to that place?’

      ‘I wanted to see the room again,’ I said. ‘I wanted to refresh my memory.’

      ‘Why, for fuck’s sake?’

      ‘Because now that I’m out I intend to find out who stitched me up.’

      The room got quiet. Both coppers stared at me as though I’d suddenly broken out in huge red welts.

      Ash eventually broke the silence. ‘So prison turned you into a raving lunatic then.’

      ‘I didn’t kill Rufus Benedict,’ I said. ‘Someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure I got the blame for it.’

      ‘That’s bollocks,’ Ash said, his voice filled with agitation. ‘There’s no question that you stabbed that poor, pervy bugger to death. You even pleaded guilty to manslaughter, for Christ’s sake. But, hey, you served your time so move on. Go back on the game or wash dishes in a curry house. I don’t care. Just don’t piss around trying to be a detective.’

      ‘I’m serious about this,’ I said.

      ‘You’re insane more like.’

      ‘That note suggests otherwise,’ I pointed out. ‘Someone is worried enough to try to warn me off.’

      ‘How do we know you didn’t write it yourself?’

      ‘Check the CCTV cameras in the hotel car park for starters,’ I said.

      ‘That’ll prove nothing. You might have got someone to plant it.’

      ‘Why would I do that?’

      ‘Because you’re a nut. Because you want attention. Because you’ve decided it’d be fun to waste our time. There are a hundred and one reasons.’

      ‘Get real,’ I said. ‘I’m telling you it was put there.’

      He took a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose.

      ‘Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. No crime has been committed, and I don’t intend to divert resources to helping a lowlife killer like you.’

      I let that one pass and said, ‘So how about answering some questions about Benedict’s murder. There were things that didn’t come out at the trial.’

      He’d already started to get up from the chair. Now he stopped and looked down at me, his big hands resting on the desk.

      ‘You’ve got a fucking nerve, Lizzie. I’ll say that for you. But no way am I going to encourage you to make a nuisance of yourself. You’re clearly mad to even think you can pull this crap. So listen carefully. I don’t want you or Scarface to go around upsetting people. It’ll just cause a heap trouble for everyone, including me.’

      ‘You can’t stop me asking questions,’ I said.

      He stood up and drew in a lungful of air. At the same time his stomach flopped ungraciously over his belt.

      ‘Don’t cross me, Lizzie. Just count yourself lucky that you’re not going to spend the rest of your life in prison. You’re out now because we let you get away with a manslaughter plea. So I suggest you make the most of your freedom. In fact I share the sentiments of whoever wrote that frigging note. So don’t go stirring things up because it won’t take much to put you back inside.’

      I held his gaze. ‘Does that mean you won’t investigate the threat that’s been made against me?’

      He glared at me, the veins in his neck swelling.

      ‘Just get the fuck out of here before I really lose my temper.’

      McGrath was instructed to escort me down the stairs and out of the building. He didn’t say a word until we got to the exit, and I sensed he was a little embarrassed by his boss’s outburst.

      Out in the sunshine, he said, ‘I’m sorry about that. The governor isn’t known for his good nature and even temper.’

      I shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t have expected anything else from him.’

      ‘Well, we’re not all like Ash. As far as I’m concerned you committed a crime and you served out your punishment. Therefore, you’re once again a regular member of the community with the same rights as everybody else.’

      He handed one of his cards to me. ‘I don’t for a minute condone what you’re doing, Miss Wells, but if you receive any more threats then give me a call. My mobile number is on the back.’

      I mumbled my thanks, slipped the card into my back pocket.

      ‘It might be useful if you gave me your number,’ he said.

      I turned on the phone that Scar had given me and read out the number.

      ‘Ash was right, though,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t go raking over old coals. The last thing you want is to get into trouble again and wind up right back in the clink.’

      ‘Thanks for the advice,’