The Family Firm

Chapter 65

DI Wallace sat upon the uncomfortable chair at his desk with a sigh and an ache in his knees. Normally, a long day without work in the field was tedious at best, even with the help of endless polystyrene cups of cheap coffee and his usual Benson & Hedges menthols, but for the past few months he had been sleeping better and waking refreshed.

He supposed it had started two years prior when Freddie took care of Brandon Duffy for him. On the day that bastard ex-son-in-law of his was to be released, an Irish gypsy serving at Her Majesty's Pleasure for murder did him in with a filed bedspring—crafty little buggers they were, prisoners.

Of course, the gypsy was a psychopath, but Wallace would have kissed him on the mouth for what he did. That fucker who ended the life of his daughter never stepped foot outside that prison, as should have been his proper punishment. The last thing he saw before going straight to hell was the walls that had kept him hostage for the previous twelve years, and knowing that, despite the fact Wallace wished he could have ended the bastard's life with his own two hands, brought him a deep restful sleep for the first time since Kelly had died.

Rightfully so, the act hadn't been traced to Freddie nor Wallace himself. But the detective knew better, and that's what mattered. Crime really did pay, and so did making friends with criminals.

It was an interesting relationship, what he and Freddie had. Most of the others in Scotland Yard thought he was crooked, a dirty filth, and he supposed in a way he was, but he came through when it mattered, which made him a valuable asset to the department. He had good standing in the criminal community, because he didn't grass unless necessary, and didn't spend his time piddling around with low-end scum. In fact, he often relied on those no-gooders to apprehend the real criminals, nonces and paedophiles and rapists, the bastards no one wanted to defend.

Now, Freddie wasn't a good man, and Wallace knew that more than most. But he was a valuable friend to have, especially when dealing with people like Brandon Duffy who had been out of his grasp. They both had done much for each other, he and Fred. Wallace had made sure certain deaths were overlooked, like with that tom Sara Wickers, whose daughter Kate Fred had since taken under his wing, in a way. And Fred had helped him with things like his divorce, and making sure his now ex-wife Sandra would be taken care of financially since she'd moved back to Scotland.

While he wouldn't trust most criminals as far as he could throw them, there was something he liked in Freddie Evans, genuinely liked, something he found dependable. He supposed it came down to the fact that they had similar values. They were both family men, and both alone in a way. A bond of loneliness, it seemed, held them together. There might have been something poetic in that, but Wallace never had been very creative.

He grabbed his latest folder, heavy with papers, and slid it towards him just as a WPC named Watson passed him a local newspaper as she made the rounds. He raised it to her with a small 'Ta, Marg,' before pulling it open for a quick read. A headline on the third page caught his attention, and he squinted to read the words:

FIRE ABOVE RESTAURANT KILLS 12

The article went on to explain that a block of flats had caught fire in Manor House and twelve people, including three children under the age of ten, had all died of smoke inhalation. It seemed that while he was reading, the bold title had caught someone else's eye as well, for he felt a large presence approach him from behind and watched as a chubby finger tapped the paper he was holding.

'Chip fat, I heard.'

Wallace turned his head and peered over at the source of the voice, and was greeted at first by a very large gut. As he glanced upwards, he realised the gut belonged to an officer by the name of Graves. He was a good man, Cockney through and through, but he took his time and had the patience of a saint, which was probably why he was one of the only few in Scotland Yard who seemed to genuinely like the Scottish detective.