the table in front of him. As her eyes met his, she felt the familiar chill. ‘Nice to see you, Eve. I’m glad you decided to come.’
The words came over clearly via the microphone, as though the glass partition wasn’t there, his voice deep and a little hoarse, the tone flat and measured and without accent, just as she remembered it. There was no smile, or change in his facial expression.
‘Forget the pleasantries,’ she said, suddenly impatient. ‘Let’s get to the point. You say I was set up.’
Duran gave a slight nod. ‘I can give you the evidence. It wasn’t hard to get …’
‘But I hear you want something from me in return.’
‘Always so direct.’ There was a pause while he unashamedly studied her. ‘You’re looking very well, Eve.’ There was a flicker of a smile, which felt like an insult.
‘That’s more than I can say for you.’
‘Prison life doesn’t suit me. But that’s not why I wanted to see you. Do you believe in justice?’
‘What sort of a question’s that?’
‘Humour me.’
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘But you accept that the justice system is fallible?’
‘Are you trying to tell me now that you didn’t murder Stanco Rupec?’
Duran stared at her for a moment, his black eyes glassy, the dull glimmer of light behind them unreadable as always.
He gave a faint, weary sigh. ‘No. This is not about me. There’s a man here at Bellevue, who’s in for a crime he didn’t commit …’
‘That’s what they all say.’
Duran held up his hands and she noticed that even his palms had a yellowy tinge. ‘Not me. You need to hear me out. I did what I did and I’m prepared to pay the price, which is why I’m not bitter, at least not as far as you’re concerned. You were just doing your job. But Sean Farrell is not a murderer. He was stitched up, and the real killer’s walking around a free man.’
‘What’s any of this got to do with me?’
‘His case is being reviewed in a few weeks. He’s been through ten years of hell in this dump just to get this far. This is his one final shot to prove he’s innocent, or at least show that the investigation was flawed. He’s got some people working on his behalf, but they’re just skimming the surface. They need help. Unless something else comes to light very soon, his application will be turned down. And then that’s it for Sean. All hope gone. That’s not justice.’
His words spoke of passion but the delivery was flat and without energy. As far as she knew, he didn’t have an altruistic bone in his body and she couldn’t fathom why he was interested in somebody else’s cause.
‘Why do you care?’
‘Because I believe he’s innocent. I’ve talked to him at length in here, made some preliminary enquiries myself, and I’m convinced he didn’t do it. The police cocked up. This wasn’t the Met, I hasten to add, so you don’t need to defend them. It was somewhere out of London, in the Home Counties. They had him in the frame and they tried to make the evidence fit. They were just plain lazy and his lawyers were no better. They just wanted a quick fix, tick the box and move on. Problem is, they got the wrong man.’
‘Shit happens. It’s tough. More to the point, why are you bothering to get involved?’
He shifted in his seat and took a deep, rasping breath. ‘Because it interests me.’
‘Are you saying the justice system’s corrupt? Is that your angle?’
Duran inclined his head. ‘In some cases, without a doubt. In this instance, I suspect it was incompetence more than anything else, but they don’t give a flying fuck. Their necks aren’t on the line. They can go home at night to their families and their cosy little beds and put it all behind them. The only one who pays for their shoddiness, day in and day out, is Sean.’
She almost smiled. It was ironic hearing him take the moral high ground about the justice system, or its failings. He had been successfully dodging around it for years, but she let it go. He had a point, not that she would dream of saying so. Occasionally, she had seen at first hand fellow officers taking short cuts with cases. It was usually due to laziness, or over-work, or occasionally, as he said, incompetence. If it was true for the Met, who had the greatest number of murder cases to solve each year, it was even more so for a smaller, more rural police force, where murder was a much rarer occurrence. A murder investigation was always high profile and hampered by all the usual media focus and hype. Under the constant pressure to get a result as quickly as possible, errors might be made. Sometimes, it made even the best officers blind to what was in front of them. Although there was no excuse, it happened. But she reminded herself she was there to find out what he knew about her case. That was all.
‘As I said before, what’s any of this got to do with me?’
Duran inclined his head a little towards her, holding her gaze unblinking. The room was overheated and airless and she suddenly felt a little giddy. His dark scalp and forehead gleamed with perspiration and the whites of his eyes were bright yellow. He looked very ill. Maybe he was in pain, which would explain his stiffness. She couldn’t smell him through the glass but she wondered if he still wore Paco Rabanne, if he was allowed such luxuries in prison, then decided that, like access to a mobile phone, it was something he would make sure of.
‘I like the way you handle things,’ he said quietly. ‘You treated me with respect and courtesy, unlike many of your colleagues. I don’t forget these things. What happened to you wasn’t right. I’ll help you sort it, so you come out on top. But I’d like you to do something for me in return. You’ve got time on your hands until your hearing. Maybe you can use that time to help Sean, see if you can turn up anything new that the others have missed. That’s all I ask.’
His request took her by surprise. It was the last thing she had been expecting. She shook her head. ‘Why don’t you just hire a PI?’
‘I could do, of course. Anything’s possible, even from in here. But you’ll do a much better job. You’re top-notch, Eve. You’ve got all the necessary experience and you understand the system from the inside out. If anyone can spot a flaw in the process, you will. I’ll pay you generously for your time …’
She felt the colour rise to her cheeks. ‘I don’t want your money.’
‘I’d forgotten how proud you are. I didn’t mean to insult you, but your reputation is trashed and you’re likely to lose your job, from what I hear. Money aside, that must matter a lot to you.’ He let the sentence hang. ‘That’s why, like it or not, you need my help. I can give you the proof you were set up, who did it, and why. It will stand up in any internal proceedings, or court of law, if you decide to take it that far, and if you still don’t get what you want, the newspapers will love it, if you sell your story. You can also have the satisfaction of helping an innocent man.’
She stared at him for a moment. Much that she’d like to believe him, it all sounded hollow.
‘Have you got religion, or something?’
The
