Barrington put a hand to his heart. ‘I am a reformed character. I am rehabilitated, you know what I’m saying?’
‘So if we bring in dogs to search the place?’
‘Be my guest. I am clean. My crib is clean. I am, like, a polygon of virtue.’
Hannah didn’t bother to correct him this time. She knew they had no grounds to search the apartment, so there was little point in pursuing that line of questioning.
‘Seen anyone lately, Barrington?’ she asked.
‘Like who?’
‘Anyone. Friends, acquaintances. Even a superhero like Parkaman must have friends, right?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘Specifically, I’m thinking of Joseph Cobb.’
‘Who?’
‘Joseph Cobb. And don’t tell me you don’t know him, because your nose will grow so long it’ll be sticking out of your hood.’
‘Oh, you mean Joey.’
‘Yeah, Joey. Seen him recently?’
Barrington pursed his lips and searched the ceiling for answers. ‘Nah. Must be, oh, at least several months since we last hooked up.’
‘But I guess you must have spoken to him on the phone at least?’
‘Hmm, let me think. Nah. Nothing there, man.’
‘Really?’
Another shrug. ‘What you want me to say? It’s been a while. That’s it.’
‘Okay.’ She paused, watching him. Waiting for him to say something. Barrington’s eyes darted around the room.
She said, ‘Don’t you want to know why I’m asking about him?’
Barrington considered this, then nodded. ‘Sure. He in trouble?’
Hannah narrowed her eyes. The question seemed genuine enough, but then Barrington was well-versed in lying to the police.
‘Let’s just say we’re looking for him.’
‘Then you came to the wrong place. Like I told you, I haven’t seen—’
He was interrupted by a muffled ringtone. Some sexist anti-police rap.
‘You want to get that?’
‘Nah. It can wait.’
‘No, seriously, Barrington. Answer your phone. We’ve got all day.’
Barrington unzipped a pocket on his coat and reached in. Pulled out a mobile phone. Glanced at the screen before killing the call.
‘Who was it?’ Hannah asked.
‘Unrecognized number. Probably some bitch in India telling me how I got in an accident that wasn’t my fault, you know what I mean?’
‘No, I don’t think it was a sales call.’ She turned towards Marcel. ‘You trying to sell him something?’
Marcel pulled his own mobile from his pocket. ‘Not me. Just trying to have a friendly chat.’
Barrington looked confused. ‘What’s going on, man? What the fuck is this?’
‘Don’t panic, Barrington. It’s not magic. Detective Constable Lang here just rang your phone. Want to know how he got your number?’
Barrington said nothing. He had enough sense and experience to know when it was time to clam up.
‘It was on Joey Cobb’s mobile.’
‘Okay. So?’
‘So, it wasn’t just in his contacts. He called you. Saturday, in fact. Several times.’
Barrington’s eyes danced again. ‘Oh! Yeah! Yeah, I forgot. That’s right. We did talk.’
