‘We’re not in possession of all the facts yet. Mrs Achebe’s body was discovered yesterday morning. Suicide is most unlikely. The man you saw meet Mrs Achebe, can you describe him?’
Murder then. ‘I’ve got a photograph – well, I gave the prints to Jimmy…to Mr Achebe.’
‘And the negatives?’
‘I’ve got them at the office.’
‘We’d like to take them away with us.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s round the corner,’ I said, ‘walking distance.’
He stood up. ‘Right, then.’ Sergeant Bell closed her book.
We walked along the road and met Ray, Maddie and Tom coming the other way. I felt embarrassed. Maddie ran to me.
‘Mummy, Mummy. We’ve got chips.’
‘I know. I won’t be long. I’m just popping round to the office for something.’
‘Can I come?’ Maddie clamoured.
‘No, you get the chips ready for me. Sheila’s moving her stuff in.’ I thought she’d throw a tantrum but the news of Sheila defused it and she turned to Ray.
The police followed me downstairs in silence. I retrieved the negatives from the file in the cabinet and handed them over. There was just one strip of shots. ‘There’s a couple of Tina and some of the man.’
Crawshaw held the strip up to the light and squinted, grunted. Slipped them into their envelope and pocketed them.
I walked back home in more awkward silence. It was a relief to say goodbye to the police.
‘We’ll be in touch if there are any further questions,’ Inspector Crawshaw said.
Inside I fielded questions from the children about the police visit, ate my chips and tried to be welcoming to Sheila. What did she think of Manchester?
‘Oh, I love it. I was down in Bury St Edmunds before, small town, so it’s a complete change. I love the theatre and the galleries.’ Flipping heck, when had I last been to either? ‘And there’s some superb concerts. I’ve been to the Royal Northern College a few times. There’s such a lot going on I could spend all my time going out if I’d the money. I never expected it’d be like this.’
‘Still thought we were in clogs and shawls?’
She laughed. ‘Well, not quite. But, the rain, I can’t believe it rains as much as it does, I thought that was part of the myth too.’
‘No, that bit’s true.’ I sorted my remaining chips into edible and not. The ones I rejected were mainly those vicious little sharp bits designed to choke you. ‘People don’t realise. It’s like when they were laying the tram lines. The firm that got the contract were outsiders. About a year after they’d laid it all the lines on Moseley Street started coming unstuck. They had to do it all again. Claimed they’d no idea it would rain so much.’