Bad Catholics by James Green Page A

interviews he had concluded.
    â€˜What do you think, boss?’
    Deal stared in front of him for a moment before replying.
    â€˜There’s nothing, no witnesses except those three in there and they know bugger all. If there’s no forensic, there’s nothing. Some thief or addict knifed her for her bag. No story, no mileage. Nothing in it for anybody.’
    â€˜What about Costello? What was all that needle about taking him down the nick? Do you think he’s involved?’
    â€˜No, I just didn’t like him. I didn’t like the nun either and all the girl did was cry. But Costello, there’s something about him.’ He thought for a moment. ‘But why would he kill the old lady? Why would any of them? No, it’s all straightforward stuff this. But I didn’t like him, and my gut tells me he’s wrong. The way he acted, he’s got to have form. You can’t tell me he’s not seen the inside of an interview room, and more than once. I don’t like him and I don’t want him anywhere on this patch. I want him gone.’
    â€˜Boss, I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure but I think he rings a bell.’
    â€˜I thought so. He’s a villain, is he?’
    â€˜It’s just his face. I think I’ve seen it, but I can’t place it.’
    â€˜That’s enough for me. Sort him out, find out who he is, and mark his card.’
    â€˜Make another visit or pull him?’
    â€˜Just a visit to let him know the times of trains and buses out of this patch. Tell him Paddington has an unhealthy climate.’
    â€˜OK boss, if that’s what you want. Back to the nick now?’
    Deal looked at his watch.
    â€˜No, drop me at Bertani’s, I’ll have a coffee then I’ve got a meet. I’ll be back about two.’
    â€˜Any hurry with Costello?’
    â€˜Not really, he’s nobody, just move him. Let the man know he is not loved.’
    Soon after the police had left, Philomena knocked again on Jimmy’s door. Jimmy dragged himself from sleep.
    â€˜Yes, Sister?’
    â€˜Sorry, there’s another visitor I’m afraid.’
    â€˜Police again?’
    â€˜No, definitely not police.’
    â€˜A big man, black, well dressed, good looking?’
    â€˜Is he a friend?’
    â€˜I know him.’ Jimmy felt like shit.
    â€˜He looks like a businessman, but he has the manner of a politician, all smiles and insincerity. Has he come to sell you something or get your vote?’
    Jimmy came out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. ‘Maybe both. Maybe I’m rich and influential, maybe working here is just an eccentricity.’
    â€˜Whatever he is, is he trouble? That’s exactly what he looks like, trouble with nice manners. I’ve seen the type before.’
    â€˜Yeah, he might be trouble.’
    Philomena held Jimmy’s arm. They stopped at the top of the stairs.
    â€˜Then have your trouble somewhere else. There’s to be no more trouble here.’ She let go of his arm.
    â€˜Thanks for your support, Sister.’
    â€˜Sorry, but that’s how it is. If I could help I would, but there’s no sense in beating around the bush. Do you want me to call the police?’
    â€˜No, definitely no police.’
    â€˜That bad? Well, God go with you, Jimmy, but go you must if you have trouble coming. Remember, there’s to be no more trouble!’
    â€˜Don’t worry, nothing will happen here. I’ll see to it,’ and he began to walk down the stairs.
    Philomena noticed his feet. ‘Your shoes, where’s your shoes?’
    Jimmy looked down. ‘My mind was elsewhere,’ he muttered, and went back to his room. Philomena watched him as he came back and went down the stairs.
    â€˜God go with you, Jimmy,’ she said, but this time she said it so that only God could hear.
    â€˜The lad!’
    The voice was loud, cheerful and South London. The big