"What you want that for?"

"Just so I can put a quiet word in the right ear about the leak of privileged information." He smiled coldly.

"Otherwise I shall have to report it and then there'll be an official complaint." He shrugged.

"Don't worry. You have my word I won't make an issue out of it, not unless I have to."

"The word of a policeman, eh? That's not something I'd want to rely on. Certainly not."

Hal b.u.t.toned his jacket.

"It'll have to go through official channels then, and it'll be an inspector coming to see you next time."

"What shall I say? Blooming blackmail, that's all this is. STC Security, Bell Street, Southampton.

There now. Let's see if your word's worth something."

Hal looked past him towards the photograph of his son.

"Thank you, Mr. Hayes," he said pleasantly.

"You've been very helpful."

EIGHTEEN.

Roz walked back to the car deep in thought.

"What's up?" Hal asked her.

"Just something he said." She put her bag on the roof and stared into the middle distance, trying to pick up an elusive thread.

"It's no good. I'll have to go back through my notes." She unlocked the door.

"So what do we do now? Go to the police?"

She released Hal's door and he climbed in beside her.

"No. We'd be there all day answering questions and there's no guarantee they'd act at the end of it." He thought for a moment.

"And it's no good tackling Crew either. If we're going to nail him we'll have to do it through Stewart Hayes and his security firm."

Roz winced.

"We? Listen, Hawksley, I've already had my hair pulled out once by that gorilla. I'm not sure I fancy it a second time." She meant it, too.

Hal put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a rea.s.suring squeeze.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think I fancy it much either." He could smell the scent of soap on her face and with a sigh he moved away.

"But we've got to get it settled one way or another," he said coolly.

"I can't stand much more of this."

Her insecurities resurfaced.

"Much more of what?"

"Sitting around in confined s.p.a.ces with you," he growled.

"It requires too much blasted self-control. Come on. Let's grasp the nettle. I'll phone Geof Wyatt and see if I can persuade him to hold my hand while I offer the Poacher for sale."

"Wouldn't it be easier just to have Hayes arrested?"

"What for?"

"Breaking and entering."

"On what evidence?"

"Me," she said.

"I can identify him."

"He'll have an alibi by now." He flicked a strand of hair from her cheek with a gesture of casual affection.

"We need to tempt Crew into the open."

It was Roz's turn to sigh. In the cold light of morning, she was having doubts.

"It's all guesswork, Hal. Crew could be squeaky clean as far as the Poacher's concerned. Mr. Hayes likes to give the impression he knows more than he does. It makes him feel important."

"But it's the only scenario that makes sense." He stroked his jaw and smiled at her with a confidence he didn't really feel.

"My nose is twitching. It's always a good sign."

"Of what?"

"That I'm on the right track."

"You'll lose the Poacher if you're wrong."

"I'll lose it anyway." He drummed his fingers on the dashboard.

"Come on," he said abruptly.

"Let's go. Head for the city centre. Bell Street runs parallel with the main shopping area.

We'll stop at the first telephone we see. And keep your eyes peeled for an electrical goods shop."

She fired the engine and pulled out into the road.

"Why?"

"You'll find out."

He dialled Dawlington police station and asked to be put through to Geof Wyatt.

"It's Hal." He let the angry recriminations run for a moment, then broke in.

"Save your breath. I'm trying to sort it now, but I need your help.

What do you have on STC Security in Bell Street? No, I'll wait." He propped the receiver under his chin and took out a notepad.

"OK. Hayes. ExAriny. Clean as a whistle. You're sure? Right. Can you meet me there in half an hour?" More squeaks.

"For old time's sake, that's why. No, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I don't give a monkeys toss if you still feel sick. At the very least, you owe me for Sally. Half an hour." He hung up.

Roz examined her fingernails with studied uninterest.

"Who's Sally?" she asked.

"Myex."

"Why does he owe you for her?"

"He married her."

"G.o.d!" She hadn't expected that.

He smiled at her startled expression.

"He did me a favour but doesn't know it. He thinks it's why I left the Force. His guilt is huge and extremely useful at times like this."

"That's cruel."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"It hurt at the time."

"Sorry," she said regretfully.

"I keep forgetting we both have pasts."

He pulled her against him.

"The marriage was long dead, and Geof didn't set out to poach Sally.

He's a decent sort. He held her hand out of friendship, and ended up with more than he bargained for. And that's genuine grat.i.tude talking, Roz, not bitterness." He kissed her nose.

"Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He had no idea what he was signing on for."

"Olive's revenge," she said slowly.

He frowned as he dialled Directory Enquiries.

"I don't follow."

Roz gave a hollow laugh.

"She makes clay figures in her room and then sticks pins into them. She did one of me when she was angry with me. I had a migraine for a week."

"When was that? Yes," he said into the phone, "STC Security, Southampton, please."

"A couple of weeks ago."

"Someone beat you up a couple of weeks ago," he pointed out.

"That's why you had a migraine." He wrote a number on his pad and hung up.

"My ex-husband," she agreed.

"I told Olive I wanted to kill him and he turned up out of the blue. I could have killed him, too, if I'd had a knife, or been better prepared. I was angry enough." She shrugged.

"And then there's you and Crew and the Poacher, and Wyatt taking your wife, and her father dying. All people she blames for what's happened to her." He looked surprised.

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

She laughed.

"No, of course I don't." But she did. Only she knew how much her head had hurt when Olive turned the pin.

"STC Security," said a woman's bright voice at the other end of the wire.

Hal looked at Roz as he spoke.

"Good morning. I'd like to discuss security arrangements for my restaurant with Mr. Stewart Hayes."

"I'm not sure he's available to talk at the moment, sir."

"He will be for me. Try his number and tell him that Hal Hawksley of the Poacher is on the line."