Page 51 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘You should do. You’ve been watching her have sex for months.’

Anthony didn’t say anything.

‘She’s not a bad looker. She doesn’t have enough meat on her bones for my liking, but I can see why you like her. She’s given us a statement, Anthony. Shall I read it to you?’

Anthony swallowed hard. ‘OK.’

Bishop picked up the single sheet of paper and cleared his throat. ‘“I’ve worked Canal Street for years. I’ve seen a lot of weirdos and strange things in my time, but none come as strange as Anthony Winstanley.” Oh dear, that doesn’t put you in a good light, does it? “He’s a watcher. He doesn’t touch. He doesn’t talk to us. He stands in the shadows, watching us while we’re doing things with our clients. I can see he’s enjoying it. I can see him playing with himself. I didn’t mind at first. I thought he was just shy. A lot are, for the first few times. But over the years he’s got closer while I’m doing my job. He’s scared a few of the punters off before today. He’s a big bloke. He looks moody. The way he goes at himself, really pulling at it, violent, like. And the noises he makes, real grunting and heavy breathing. It’s scary.”’

‘Who is she talking about?’ Anthony interrupted.

‘She’s talking about you, Anthony,’ DS Osborne chimed in.

‘But… no, that’s not right,’ he said, looking up, almost white with worry. ‘I’ve never done anything like that. Honest. I just… I just watch.’

‘You do play with yourself, though, don’t you?’ Osborne asked.

‘No. I don’t,’ he said, forcefully.

‘Let me continue,’ Bishop said. ‘Yadda, yadda, yadda, here we are. The night of the storm. The night of Alice’s murder. “I wasn’t planning on going out on that Monday, the tenth of October, the weather was awful, but I needed the money. There weren’t many men out. Bad weather always puts them off, but there’s always a couple hanging around. I was in the back of this Mercedes with a bloke. We’d steamed up the windows, but I looked up and there was this flash of lightning and I could see Anthony stood right at the window, looking in. You could tell by his arm movements that he was really going at himself. His face was all contorted and angry. I screamed. This put the punter off who turned around and slammed his fist on the window, telling Anthony to piss off. He ran.”’ Bishop placed the statement on the table and looked up at Anthony.

‘Why is she saying that? That never happened,’ Anthony said.

‘She’s not the only one saying it, Anthony. There are at least two other hookers who say you scare them.’

‘I wasn’t there on that Monday night. I didn’t see them. I swear.’ He put his hands between his legs and began rocking back and forth. ‘I don’t know why she’s saying all that. It’s a lie.’

‘Are they all lying, Anthony?’ Bishop asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Why would they do that, Anthony? Why would they all lie like that?’

‘I… I don’t know. But I wasn’t there. I promise.’

Bishop took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. ‘Anthony, how long are we going to sit here with you denying anything happened? It’s getting late. I’ve had a long, hard day and I want to go home. Why don’t you just tell me you killed Alice Patterson, then I can let you go to the toilet and get your pie and mash from the canteen?’

‘But… I didn’t kill her. I liked her.’

Bishop was running out of patience. He loosened his tie. ‘You know your mum’s out in reception?’

‘Is she?’ His eyes lit up, momentarily.

‘Yes. She’s with a friend of yours, Leo. They’re waiting to see you. The thing is, I can’t allow them to come in and see you.’

‘Why not?’

‘There’s this police rule about interfering with witnesses during the interview process. It’s all very long-winded. The thing is, though, Anthony, if we wrap this up in the next half an hour, you can see your mum and Leo, have a cup of tea, while DS Osborne here gets you pie and mash. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?’

Anthony, a look of hope in his eyes, looked up to DS Osborne who smiled back at him. He turned back to DI Bishop. ‘Can I really see my mum?’

‘Yes.’

‘And have pie and mash?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘And a cup of tea?’