Page 97 of Blow Down (The Plumber's Mate)
Vi beat me to it. “How did Uncle Arlo manage to get here before you? Hadn’t you only just left him when you came home?”
“No.” Alex ducked his head again and shook it gently. “I visited the garden of remembrance at the cathedral on the way home. It was Arlo’s suggestion. He said it would help me find peace.”
Bloody hell. It had damn near helped me find peace and all. Of the Rest In variety.
I wouldn’t mind betting Arlo had been the one to bring up the subject of plumbers in general, and one Tom Paretski in particular, at that prefuneral lunch, as well. Still, that wasn’t important anymore, seeing as we had him bang to rights. And at least his diversion of old Alex had come with a built-in time limit. I mean, there’s only so long you can stand around in the dark being all remembrance-y, which was probably all that’d persuaded Arlo to scarper instead of having another go at yours truly and doing the job properly that time.
“What I can’t understand,” Alex went on, “is how he could be so heartless as to try to blame you for poor Amelia’s death.”
Vi blushed like a beetroot and glared at me and Phil as if daring us to say anything about her quasi-incestuous little fling. And while we were on the subject, what was with her still calling him Uncle Arlo, even after she’d shagged him and he’d tried to frame her? That was well weird, that was.
Phil coughed. “Probably because of the hold it would give him over you. I imagine he was hoping your association would be very lucrative for him.”
Yeah. Nothing to do with Arlo being a vindictive bastard who couldn’t stand Vi dumping him. Nothing at all.
“What if Vi hadn’t called me in that night?” I asked as we drove back home in Phil’s Golf. I’d had to leave the van there after all, what with the borderline concussion and general shakiness. Just as well Phil’s arm had turned out to be just bruised, not broken, or we’d have been leaving the Golf to keep it company and getting a taxi back to mine. I noticed he rested his hand on his leg as much as he could. “What if she’d just looked up the nearest plumber on her phone?” I had a nasty thought. “I mean, it was dark out, and he came at me from behind. Christ, some poor bastard could’ve ended up getting strangled instead of me.”
Phil gave me a look. “Because it’s not like your average plumber has his name all over his van in big letters? Like, say, one Thomas Paretski?”
“Oh, shut up. Okay, so he wouldn’t have killed the wrong bloke. He still wouldn’t have got his grubby mitts on me.”
“Then he’d have tried something else. Maybe tried to lure you out some other way that couldn’t be traced back to him—borrowed someone’s phone, maybe, or found a payphone.” Phil huffed. “Maybe he’d just have asked Vi to call you over for him.”
Christ. Yeah. “Must’ve been pissed off when it didn’t work. After all that effort, with the plumbing and the security light and all.”
Phil looked thoughtful. “Maybe. On the other hand, he had it in for Vi Majors, didn’t he? Probably got a kick just from picturing her alone in the house with gallons of water pouring onto the floor. Anyhow, you’re talking too much.”
“Nah, ’s fine.”
“Really? That frog in your throat’s so big it should have its own TV show.”
God, I was so tempted to make a crack about romances with pigs.
Nah. Phil might not have been a copper for a few years now, but he’s still a bit sensitive about stuff like that. I glanced over at him and saw he had this half-amused, half-resigned look on his face, as if he’d somehow developed his own psychic talent and had just read my mind.
Hey, I’d had two attempts on my life this week. I reckoned I was entitled to a bit of paranoia.
The cats gave us their version of a hero’s welcome when we got back to mine—Arthur gave me a quick sniff and then stalked off to check what he’d left in his food bowl, while Merlin sat down next to Phil on the sofa and started licking his bum.
Merlin’s own bum, I hasten to add. Not Phil’s. Nobody gets to lick that except me.
I grinned. “Think the honeymoon period’s over with you and him.”
Then I realised that was another thing we were gonna have to talk about. The honeymoon.
Phil put his good arm around me and pulled me in for a kiss. “Don’t sweat it. Plenty of time to decide about that.”
See? Telepathy.
Just as we were about to ring for a takeaway prior to getting a very early night, my phone rang.
“Have you heard the news?” Cherry breathed down the line.
“Uh, the news in general, or some particular news?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t reckon Arlo’s arrest would’ve hit the headlines yet, and if she hadn’t heard about it, I really wasn’t feeling up to filling her in right now.
“The news about Toby. He’s resigned.”
Oh. That. “Yeah? They say why?”
