1 The Cuckoo's Calling

statement agreeing that Duffield had come round at about half past two. It was
only the pair of them there, and yeah, I’d take long odds that Whycliff would lie
for Duffield, but a woman on the ground floor heard the doorbell ring and says
she saw Duffield on the stair.
“Anyway, Duffield left Whycliff’s around four, with the bloody wolf’s head
back on, and rambled off towards the place where he thought his car and driver
were waiting; except that the driver was gone. The driver claimed a
misunderstanding. He thought Duffield was an arsehole; he made that clear when
we took his statement. Duffield wasn’t paying him; the car was on Landry’s
account.
“So then Duffield, who’s got no money on him, walks all the way to Ciara
Porter’s place in Notting Hill. We found a few people who’d seen a man wearing
a wolf’s head strolling along relevant streets, and there’s footage of him cadging
a free box of matches from a woman in an all-night garage.”
“Can you make out his face?”
“No, because he only shoved the wolf head up to speak to her, and all you can
see is its snout. She said it was Duffield, though.
“He got to Porter’s around half four. She let him sleep on the sofa, and about
an hour later she got the news about Landry being dead, and woke him up to tell
him. Cue histrionics and rehab.”
“You checked for a suicide note?” asked Strike.
“Yeah. There was nothing in the flat, nothing on her laptop, but that wasn’t a
surprise. She did it on the spur of the moment, didn’t she? She was bipolar, she’d
just argued with that little tosser and it pushed her over—well, you know what I
mean.”
Wardle checked his watch, and drained the last of his pint.
“I’m gonna have to go. The wife’ll be pissed off, I told her I’d only be half an
hour.”
The over-tanned girls had left without either man noticing. Out on the
pavement, both lit up cigarettes.
“I hate this fucking smoking ban,” said Wardle, zipping his leather jacket up to
the neck.
“Have we got a deal, then?” asked Strike.
Cigarette between his lips, Wardle pulled on a pair of gloves.
“I dunno about that.”