Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Locked In / Vigilante / The Woman in Black"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 31 (всего у книги 60 страниц)

Jessica went to stand but Cole started speaking. ‘I think you should let Jessica close the Graves case, Sir. It was her theory after all.’

Feeling frozen to the spot, she looked from DCI Farraday to DI Cole, who were staring at each other. It was the chief inspector who finally spoke. His tone was steady but had an undercurrent of anger. ‘Fine. Sort it out among yourselves but I want some progress on all three cases by the end of the week or I’m going to start kicking some arses around here.’

20

Cole hadn’t even let Jessica thank him as they walked back down the stairs to their own offices. As she went to speak, he cut her off. ‘Don’t worry, you did well today. Now find the killer.’

Jessica went back to her office and immediately called Garry Ashford. Even though Reynolds was in earshot, she thanked the journalist for his article about Craig Millar’s mother and then told him the news about the type of person they now suspected had killed Robert Graves. She told him he had a two-hour head start to get a story on his newspaper’s website before she called in the local television and radio stations.

She phoned back the witness to the murder and re-checked each detail with her, especially focusing on the time and description of the killer. After that, Jessica went to the press office and told the woman who worked there exactly what she wanted doing. The small team on site were well known for being tetchy with officers in trying to balance the needs of both sides but Jessica didn’t make it a negotiation. The press officer was obviously nervous about going to the media and admitting they had made a mistake but Jessica was clear the only way people would pay attention to a new appeal was if they started from scratch.

Jessica sat in their office taking phone calls and giving statements to local radio stations and other newspapers with Farraday reluctantly agreeing to go on camera for that evening’s news broadcasts. Officers were brought in to answer the phones and Jessica took Carrie to the main road near the universities later that evening. They had arranged for the press office to print out flyers of the e-fit and handed them out to the young people walking past. Being two youngish women standing on the street, they got a fair amount of attention and inappropriate suggest ions but the sight of their respective police identification cards sent people scurrying quick enough.

As the passing foot traffic dried up, with everyone either in or out for the night, Jessica sent Carrie home, telling her to make sure she took the hours back in lieu and then drove herself to the station. Jessica watched the late-evening news on the television in the reception area. It replayed everything that had been on the earlier broadcasts, which was good as their story was still high on the bulletin. She walked through to the incident room where a bank of half-a-dozen phones had been set up at the back. Given the time, the area was fairly empty. Four of the officers were chatting with each other, with two others on calls.

Jessica pulled up a chair and sat behind them. ‘How much have you had in?’

‘Bits and pieces. Loads earlier but nothing much recently,’ one of the officers said.

‘Any names being repeated?’

‘Two or three.’

Each call would have been logged through the computer system but she had instructed the officers working earlier to make a hard-copy note of any names suggested. The officer used a pencil to point Jessica towards a clipboard at the end of the line. It was about as low-tech as she could have imagined – literally a tally chart. The full length of the page had around twenty-five names listed. Most had just one mark next to the name but three instantly stood out. One had four ticks, another six and one name near the top – Dan Wilkin – had seven. Jessica noticed there was even one for a ‘Danny Wilkin’ lower down the sheet where someone hadn’t realised it was likely the same person. As Jessica was scanning the list, one of the officers who had been on the phone hung up and beckoned for her to hand the list over. She passed them the clipboard and they very deliberately put one more mark next to Dan Wilkin’s name.

The next morning, Jessica took DC Jones and four uniformed officers with her to arrest Daniel Wilkin. His name had been added to the tally chart twice more the night before and, from the full call records registered through their computer system, his address had been given too. He lived in a block of privately owned student flats around ten minutes’ walk away from where Robert Graves’s body had been found.

The building was arranged in a large semicircle with a courtyard at the front. There were half-a-dozen doors, each listing twenty flats inside that particular area. If their suspect was looking to run, he wouldn’t have too many options but one of the officers was sent around to the back in case he jumped out of a window.

Inside the main entrance, there were five more doors to choose from, each apparently hosting four flats. One door was on the ground floor, with two on each of the levels above. Jessica and the other officers made their way up to the top floor and knocked on the flat’s main door. A man who’d seemingly been asleep in his underwear answered it. Jessica had woken people up many times but couldn’t remember anyone looking quite as tired as the young man in front of her. He could barely open his eyes and she wasn’t entirely sure how he was standing.

‘Is Daniel Wilkin in?’

The person in front of them clearly didn’t understand and rocked slightly on the back of his feet. ‘What, man? Who’s been sick?’

Jessica ignored his ramblings, pushing past him into the flat. One bedroom door was wide open, which she presumed belonged to the man who had let them in, while an opening at the opposite end of the corridor clearly showed a fridge. There were four more doors to choose from. Jessica first tried pushing each of them. The final one on the left swung open to reveal an empty but filthy bathroom.

With only three options, she indicated for Carrie to stand at one door, while one of the officers took another and she took the third. The final two officers stood by the front door. Jessica counted down from three and, on one, they all banged on the remaining bedroom doors. ‘Daniel Wilkin,’ Jessica shouted loudly.

No one could have slept through the noise. The door in front of Jessica and the uniformed officer opened almost simultaneously. There was a young man wearing only a pair of boxer shorts in front of her. Jessica had her identification in her hand. ‘Daniel Wilkin?’

The man was clearly puzzled and tired but pointed to the still-closed door Carrie had been knocking on. ‘That one.’

Jessica told him to go back into his room, as well as the man who had answered the main door and then indicated for the officers to clear a bit of space around the remaining bedroom door.

She knocked one final time. ‘Daniel, if you’re in there open the door now or we will break it down.’

She heard it unlocking and the door was pulled open to reveal a man standing there fully dressed in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and denim jacket as if he were on his way out. He looked exactly like the e-fit. Jessica didn’t know if he had just got dressed because he had heard them or if he had been looking to make a run for it. Ultimately it didn’t matter.

Jessica left Daniel Wilkin in the cells under the station talking to a duty solicitor. She checked his name in their records but there was nothing. Being a student it was likely he lived elsewhere but she couldn’t find any matches on the national database for anyone with his name and age who had a criminal record.

She asked Cole if he would join her in the interview room and, after getting everything ready, they finally called for the suspect to be brought upstairs. The student confirmed his name, date of birth and address, both his university one and that of his parents, who lived in Portsmouth. Jessica asked him where he was on the night Robert Graves had been killed.

‘No comment,’ Daniel replied.

‘Did Robert try to rob you?’

‘No comment.’

‘Have you ever seen this man?’ Jessica asked, showing a photo of Robert Graves before he had been killed.

‘No comment.’

Jessica turned to the duty solicitor. ‘Did you tell him to do this?’

The solicitor just shrugged at her. ‘You know you can’t ask me to disclose what I say to my clients.’

Jessica sighed and looked back at the suspect. ‘Look, Daniel, I’ll be completely honest with you. We’ve got fingerprints and we’ve got DNA. You know that swab you gave us when you were brought in? That’s on its way to our labs right now to be tested. I don’t know if it’s you who did this or not but we will know for sure within the next forty-eight hours. No commenting is just going to look bad in court. If you’re completely innocent, by all means refuse to answer the questions but if you’re not – if I were you – I would go back down to the cells, call your parents and get them to arrange a proper solicitor for you.’

The young man looked to the solicitor next to him and Jessica knew they had their man.

‘I want to do what she said.’

Two hours later and they had a full confession. Daniel told them how he had been walking home from the local shops when some guy had jumped out at him and demanded his phone. With all the reports about students being attacked, he acted on instinct and punched the assailant hard in the face. From there, things got out of hand. Before he knew what had happened, the other man had stopped moving.

‘It was almost like it was someone else, like a movie or something. I don’t know what happened,’ he said.

He told them about the nightmares he’d had since and how, because of the e-fit, his mates had joked he was the vigilante. They knew he wasn’t of course because he had been out with them on the dates the other victims had been killed. He felt guilty he had got away with it but had kept quiet. Then he had got home from a student bar the previous night and saw his face again on an Internet news site but this time they knew what he had done.

‘I wanted to hand myself in,’ he added. ‘I even went to call the number you put up but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I . . . I’ve never been in trouble before. I’d not even been in a fight until then.’

Jessica found it hard not to feel sorry for him. He had initially been a victim but had completely overreacted. Jessica thought he would probably end up on a manslaughter charge as opposed to murder but two lives had been ended that night.

He was led back to the cells and would be in front of magistrates in the morning. Jessica was applauded as she walked back onto the main office floor but didn’t feel like taking people’s praise. Cole told her he would deal with Farraday and that she should enjoy the night. Tomorrow they would both get to work on figuring out who killed Craig Millar, Benjamin Webb, Desmond Hughes and Lee Morgan.

Back in their office, Reynolds gave her a hug and told her he was determined to push on with his case, if only to get a justice of sorts for Robert Graves’s parents. ‘I’ll let you off that tenner too,’ he added.

Jessica went back through to the canteen to find DCs Row lands and Jones. ‘Hey, are you two still off to the quiz later?’

‘Yep, are you gonna come embarrass yourself?’ Rowlands said.

‘Yes and I’m going to bring my boyfriend too.’ Jessica didn’t even wait for any witty comebacks, turning and walking towards her car. She had three phone calls to make.

The first was to Adam to make sure he was interested in going to the pub quiz. Then she phoned Garry and talked him through the day’s events. She felt she owed him one if only for listening to her in the supermarket car park and gave him a full exclusive. Other publications would get the standard lines from the press office but he would end up looking the most impressive.

The final call was simply to check if the people she wanted to visit were in. They were and invited her round so she drove the few miles to their house. It was the one job she promised herself she would do without any help.

Arthur Graves answered his front door and invited her in. Jessica knew they would be upset with what she had to tell them but it would be as much closure as they could hope to get.

21

The killer hadn’t enjoyed the previous week or so. His project had been going well and then they had started accusing him of murdering someone he didn’t know. It was an insult to what he was trying to achieve. Three druggie scumbags and a bent prison warden had been removed from the streets and then they started saying he had taken out some kid who hadn’t done any real harm.

Until the newsreader had given the boy’s name, the killer hadn’t even known who he was. It was a complete disgrace to his legacy and he had stopped working his way through the list in protest. But then, last night, finally the police retracted their accusations, admitting somebody else had killed the boy and leaving him with the credit he deserved.

He didn’t know if it was a deliberate game but he had spent the day smiling and trying not to let on to those around him.

That night he could get back to work.

The killer had enjoyed the news bulletins and papers over the past couple of weeks. There were a few people that couldn’t get their heads around what he was trying to achieve but a decent amount were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. They knew there were people who could only act like animals and had to be put down as such.

He looked through the list of names he had made. Three people at the top and one three-quarters of the way down had been crossed out. At first he had thought he would work his way through them in order, from the easiest to the hardest.

Millar had been no problem whatsoever. He was just a big mouth who stayed safe through the number of people he kept around him. Without them, he was always going to be the first to go.

Webb and Hughes had been part-impulse, part-necessity. He had been planning to deal with them one at a time but had then seen them swaying their way down the road and simply acted. If sober they would have been near the bottom of the list given their brutality but, from what he had seen, they were both keen drinkers.

The warden had been a special case. Originally he would have been near the bottom of the list, not because he would be physically hard to despatch, simply because of the attention it would have brought to the mission. Unfortunately certain police officers were getting a little too close for comfort and at least with the warden out of the picture it showed he was willing to go to any lengths.

There were five names left on the killer’s list. All of them deserved exactly what was coming to them: drug dealers, rapists, those who were a little too handy with their fists and others who put money above anything else.

The next name would be interesting, although a bit of a challenge. The next victim truly was a wolf in sheep’s clothing who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

22

She wouldn’t have predicted it beforehand but Jessica was actually looking forward to a night out at the pub quiz Rowlands had invited her to. He lived near the edge of the student area of the city and the pub contained a mix of young professionals like them, students and the locals.

Jessica was always fascinated by the regulars who went to the same pub day after day regardless of who owned it. She would often look for them, either sitting at the bar with a pint of cheap bitter or occasionally feeding pound coins into the fruit machines. She couldn’t get her head around how some people’s lives literally revolved around getting up, going to the pub, then going home.

The place itself was what she would have expected. The ceilings were low and parts of the floor were sticky from either spilled drinks that hadn’t been cleaned up or something she would rather not know about. It reminded Jessica of her younger days when she and Caroline were more interested in the price of a drink than the fancy decor.

Dave was at the pub on his own when Jessica arrived with Adam. After visiting the Graveses, she had gone home to clear her head. She couldn’t switch from something so serious into either going back to the station or meeting up with friends. She changed into a clean pair of jeans and one of her favourite going-out tops, which hadn’t been worn in well over a year. Adam had caught the train to the station closest to her flat and they had both taken a taxi together to the pub.

When they arrived, Jessica had quickly spotted Rowlands sitting in a booth off to the side, guarding it by stretching himself across the seat in case anyone else tried to sit down. ‘Thank God you’re here,’ he said. ‘I’ve been dying for the toilet but didn’t want to lose the seats.’

He stood and offered his hand for Adam to shake. ‘You must be Adam. I’m Dave. Apart from your name, which someone else told me, I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.’

All three of them laughed together and Dave disappeared towards the back of the pub. Jessica and Adam sat in the booth.

‘There’s nothing bad about me not talking about you,’ Jessica said.

‘Sorry?’

‘What Dave just said about me not talking about you, it’s not because I don’t like you. It’s just not the type of workplace for that . . .’

Adam smiled. ‘You told me to assume everything you said was a joke but when he makes a joke, you take it all seriously. It’s okay, I don’t mind.’

Jessica didn’t get much of an opportunity to feel embarrassed about her moment of insecurity before another familiar face came walking across to them. Carrie had dressed up for the evening, wearing a short blue dress with matching heels. It was definitely a little over the top for the standard of the venue and she was getting plenty of sideways glances from the men. She didn’t seem to notice and strolled over to the booth, making Jessica shuffle over so she could sit alongside them.

She initially ignored her friend, leaning right across her to shake hands with the man. ‘You must be Adam?’

‘Yeah, hi. Are you Carrie?’

‘Yeah, you all right? Pleased to meet you at last.’ She turned back to Jessica. ‘Where’s Dave?’

‘Gone for a wee and then he’s getting the drinks in.’

‘Ooh, that’s nice of him.’

‘He doesn’t know yet.’

Jessica turned to Adam, pointing backwards at Carrie. ‘Don’t mind her accent by the way. She’s not got some sort of debilitating brain injury or anything, she’s just from Wales.’

‘Oi, cheeky,’ the constable chirped back.

Conversation flowed easily and, when Dave returned, Jessica told him he could get the drinks in for them all. Adam volunteered to help and, not long after, the four of them were sitting in the booth as the quizmaster read the rules out over a crackly PA system.

‘We’re still waiting for someone,’ Dave said.

‘Who else is coming?’ Jessica asked.

‘You’ll see, a mate of yours. That should narrow it down to three or four.’ Adam was consistently laughing along with Rowlands’s jokes, which was partly pleasing for Jessica as he was fitting in nicely, but somewhat annoying because at least two-thirds of the officer’s jokes were at her expense.

‘Are you all right by the way?’ Rowlands asked the other constable.

‘Yeah fine,’ Carrie replied.

‘Why, what’s up?’ Jessica asked.

Carrie started to say ‘nothing’ but Rowlands talked over her. ‘I saw Farraday having a go at her earlier near one of the holding rooms.’

Jessica looked from one of them to the other. ‘Why, what about?’

‘I don’t know,’ Rowlands said.

‘Carrie?’

‘Nothing really. It’s not important.’

Jessica wanted to push the issue but the quizmaster was starting the first round. As a clearly annoyed Carrie loudly shushed them so she could hear the opening question, Jessica remembered she was well known in the station for being fiendishly competitive.

A couple of years earlier, officers based at Longsight had been part of a charity fun day. The station’s police had faced off against the local fire brigade in a sponsored sack race and Carrie had been determined to win. Unfortunately for her, she had hopped a bit too excitedly over the finishing line and wiped out a thirteen-year-old boy who was waving a chequered flag. The poor lad had spent the rest of his summer holiday with a broken leg and she had picked up the unfortunate nickname ‘Terminator’. It wasn’t used quite so often now but every now and then someone, usually Rowlands, would remind her.

Jessica had a silent giggle to herself remembering the tangled heap of young teenager, chequered flag, old sack and fully grown woman.

The quizmaster’s voice told them the first round was ‘geography’ as an audible groan rippled around the room before he asked the first question. ‘What’s the capital of Latvia?’

The three officers looked blankly at each other, as Adam leant in closer to Carrie to whisper: ‘It’s Riga’.

He also knew the answer to the two questions that followed and they all knew the fiftieth American state. After two rounds of results, they were joint first, mainly due to Adam. The quizmaster stopped for the first drinks break and Adam went to the toilet as the two girls sent Rowlands back to the bar. They had at least given him some money the second time around.

As soon as they had the booth to themselves, Carrie leant in close to Jessica and smiled broadly. ‘He’s nice.’

‘Adam?’

‘Of course Adam, I’m not going to be talking about Dave, am I?’

‘He’s all right.’

‘He can take me out if you’re being picky.’

‘I thought you had a bloke?’

‘I did, well maybe still do. I don’t know really.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Not now. Let’s go out later in the week though? Or come over to mine? I’ll tell you all about it then, promise.’

‘Okay. Are you all right? You look a little flushed.’

‘It’s just the alcohol. I’ve not eaten today.’

Jessica looked up and saw the final person Dave must have been referring to. She tried not to grin but couldn’t stop herself. ‘Hugo? I didn’t know you were coming.’

‘Hugo’ was the stage name of a part-time magician she had met through Rowlands the previous year. His real name was Francis and his interest in taxidermy meant his flat was occupied by numerous stuffed animals. She had steadfastly refused to admit he actually helped her on a case but he had made things a bit clearer. From her previous experience, she knew he hugged everyone he met and, as he leant in, she didn’t refuse. He then hugged a bemused Carrie, then Adam, then Rowlands. The five of them squeezed into the booth together with Hugo on one end, then Dave, Adam, Jessica and Carrie.

Hugo was wearing a pair of shorts, despite it being pretty cold outside, with a dark T-shirt and a full tuxedo jacket with tails. He was very thin with longish brown hair and, as with the last time Jessica had met him, he was also wearing shoes that didn’t match.

Rowlands explained to the rest of the table that he knew Hugo from university and asked his friend if he had any new tricks. Hugo smiled dreamily and said he’d spent much of the last three weeks meditating but did pull a stuffed mouse out of his pocket to show them. Jessica thought he was a very peculiar man.

The interference squeak came over the speakers again as the quizmaster began talking. The next round was quotations. ‘Question twenty-one,’ the quizmaster said. ‘Who said; “Let them eat cake”?’

Dave leant in and whispered loudly, ‘Kipling.’

Jessica’s eruption of laughter was instant. Carrie didn’t know what was so funny and Rowlands clearly wasn’t sure either. Hugo was in a world of his own but Adam’s smile told Jessica that he knew what she was laughing at.

Jones had already written a K on the answer sheet and that made Jessica laugh even more. She thought she’d got over the giggles but the quizmaster repeated the question, which set her off again. Jones was getting annoyed because she clearly wanted to win, while the penny had dropped for Rowlands that he was wrong.

Finally Jessica managed to stop herself. ‘Kipling’s the guy who makes the cakes, you dick. It’s Marie Antoinette.’

Adam nodded to indicate the answer was correct and Jessica was really enjoying herself. Hugo began to join in and got a few correct but Adam’s knowledge didn’t extend to ‘sport’ or ‘the animal kingdom’. Carrie caused a mini scene by shouting at a man for using his phone during the quiz. He insisted he was just texting his girlfriend but she was having none of it. Rowlands calmed the situation by telling the guy not to mess with the ‘Terminator’, which quietened them both.

In the second drinks break, Hugo finally relented in the face of Dave’s pestering, taking a deck of cards from his jacket pocket and handed them to Carrie. He told each of them to choose a card then put them back in the pack while he went to the bar.

When he returned, he took the deck back and worked his way through each person, predicting which card they had opted for.

He got every guess wrong.

Sheepishly, he put the cards into his jacket pocket and went back to playing with a yo-yo he had taken out of another pocket. Carrie looked at Jessica as if to ask, ‘Is he for real?’ but Jessica didn’t know any better than her friend did.

The next round of the quiz had started when one of the bar staff shouted out, ‘Hang on a minute, who’s playing silly beggars here?’

Everyone looked around to see what the noise was about except for Hugo. Jessica could see the cash register was open and the barman was standing next to it holding four playing cards in the air. ‘Who put these in the till?’ he asked loudly.

Hugo didn’t react but the other four people around the table stared at him. Jessica stood and walked over to the bar. ‘Can I see them, mate?’

‘It’s not you, is it?’

‘I’ve not even got up until now.’

The man handed over the cards and Jessica could see they were the exact four they had picked out from Adam’s deck moments earlier. ‘Can I have them?’ she asked.

‘Whatever, just stop pissing around.’

Jessica went back to the booth and put the cards down one by one on the table in front of them. Carrie gave a small squeal as the final one came down.

‘How did you do it?’ she asked.

Dave cut across her. ‘He can’t tell you that.’ He then looked at Hugo. ‘It was quality though, mate, completely effulgent. How did you do it?’

Hugo smiled, picking up the cards, pocketing them, and returning to his yo-yo. Jessica looked at her colleague. ‘Effulgent?’

‘What about it?’ Dave said.

‘You’ve been using the calendar I got you,’ Hugo said out of the blue.

‘Calendar?’ Jessica repeated.

Rowlands tried to shush his friend but Hugo explained. ‘I got him a word-a-day calendar as an early birthday present.’

Jessica looked at Dave with a big smile, glad she had figured out what had been going on. She had no idea why Hugo would have given him a calendar in September as a present when the constable’s birthday was actually in November but decided that was a question for another day.

After another round about ‘the British Isles’, their team had dropped back into second place. Carrie was trying not to be overtly angry and Dave wasn’t saying anything unless he was sure of the answer.

The next round was literature and Jessica exploded into laughter again when the first question was, ‘Who wrote The Jungle Book?’ She pointed at Dave and said far too loudly: ‘This one’s bloody Kipling.’

Carrie shushed her, looking around to see if anyone had overheard.

As the final drinks break arrived, Jones went to the toilets. When she returned, she was looking a little redder than before, carrying her mobile phone in her hand. ‘Are you okay?’ Jessica asked.

‘I’m going to get off. I don’t think we’re going to win anyway and I’m not feeling too great.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘God no, you stay here with Adam.’

Hugo must have heard because he stood up and gave Jones another huge hug. ‘’Bye, Carrie,’ he said. ‘It’s been really nice meeting you.’

‘Um, you too.’

She also made Adam stand up, so she could hug him and then cuddled Jessica. ‘Today was brilliant,’ she said. ‘I’m so pleased it was you who sorted things out.’

‘Thanks. It means a lot.’

Dave stood up and held his arms out but Jones blew a raspberry at him. ‘You can sod off, Mr Kipling.’

‘Look who’s talking, sheep-shagger.’

Jones wiggled her little finger at him and winked. ‘That’s what I’ve heard.’

Dave looked down at his crotch then back up to see Carrie walking away from him. ‘Who told you that?’ he shouted after her then, much more quietly as he sat down, ‘It’s not true, you know. Even if it was, it’s all about technique anyway.’

Before the final music round, the quizmaster gave out the scores that had them tied in second place but well behind the leaders. A group of four pot-bellied men who were sitting around a table loaded with empty pint glasses waved their arms about excitedly and Jessica guessed they were the team out in front.

Without Carrie to bully them into silence, some of the fun had definitely been lost. Hugo, who had been relatively quiet throughout the evening, seemed to know far more about recent music than any of them. Adam was good on the rock tracks and Jessica had the Eighties nailed. Her biggest problem, as before, was not shouting out the answers. Adam had taken over the pen duties and even he gave her a mildly annoyed look as she called out ‘Bros’ far too loudly as one of the answers. He quickly turned his look into a smile though.

With all the scores in, it turned out they had finished third. The team in first place got two free drinks each, while the ones in second got a single drink apiece.

Jessica’s team ended with nothing. ‘Good job Carrie’s gone,’ Dave said. ‘She wouldn’t have been happy with third. She’d have probably tried to break our legs like that kid.’

The quizmaster announced that they were going to do karaoke until closing time and Jessica pulled a face. ‘What’s up, moody bum?’ Dave asked.

‘Karaoke’s for idiots.’

‘You’re not getting up then?’

‘No chance. Why, you’re not having a go, are you?’

‘Hell yes, that’s why I come.’

‘What do you sing?’

‘Robbie Williams, “Angels”. Pitch perfect.’

‘Piss off, is it.’