1 The Cuckoo's Calling

“He’s told you that, has he?” asked Wilson, looking faintly relieved. “Yeah,
she did. But I felt sorry for the man, y’know? He had a contrac’ to give back to
her; he was worried about it, so I let him go up.”
“Had anyone else come into the building that you know of?”
“Yeah, Lechsinka was already there. She’s one of the cleaners. She always
arrives at seven; she was mopping the stairwell when I got in. Nobody else came
until the guy from the security comp’ny, to service the alarms. We get it done
every six months. He musta come around nine forty; something like that.”
“Was this someone you knew, the man from the security firm?”
“No, he was a new guy. Very young. They always send someone diff’rent.
Missus Bestigui and Lula were still at home, so I let him into the middle flat, and
showed him where the control panel was an’ got him started. Lula went out while
I was still in there, showin’ the guy the fuse box an’ the panic buttons.”
“You saw her go out, did you?”
“Yeah, she passed the open door.”
“Did she say hello?”
“No.”
“You said she usually did?”
“I don’t think she noticed me. She looked like she was in a hurry. She was
going to see her sick mother.”
“How d’you know, if she didn’t speak to you?”
“Inquest,” said Wilson succinctly. “After I’d shown the security guy where
everything was, I went back downstairs, an’ after Missus Bestigui went out, I let
him into their flat to check that system too. He didn’t need me tuh stay with him
there; the positions of the fuse boxes and panic buttons are the same in all the
flats.”
“Where was Mr. Bestigui?”
“He’d already left for work. Eight he leaves, every day.”
Three men in hard hats and fluorescent yellow jackets entered the café and sat
at a neighboring table, newspapers under their arms, work boots clogged with
filth.
“How long would you say you were away from the desk each time you were
with the security guy?”