Rachel dropped her cig and ground it out. They crossed the cobbled street to the front of the archway, went in through a steel door that led in turn to the dispatcher’s office and a small rest area where a couple of drivers were having lunch. The telly in the corner was showing a rerun of the latest Manchester derby.
‘Ladies,’ said the dispatcher.
Janet and Rachel showed their warrant cards.
‘Kasim will be back any minute,’ he said. Then ‘Yes!’ to the screen as a shot bounced off the crossbar. ‘Up the Blues,’ he said, sniffing out their affiliation. A city of two teams. Sporting rivalry passed down from one generation to the next.
Rachel shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
Disappointed, he looked at Janet. ‘Me neither,’ she said. Ade used to follow Oldham Athletic, a suicide mission if ever there was one; went to a few matches when he was younger. Janet never fancied it.
They heard a car trundle over the cobbles and a cab pulled up in front of the office.
‘Kasim,’ the man confirmed.
‘Thanks, we’ll talk outside,’ Janet said. More privacy there.
Kasim was curious, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He had done that thing with his eyebrows, Janet noticed, lines cut through. Looked as though his hand slipped shaving. She didn’t get it. I’m getting old, she thought. The taxi drivers look younger every day.
‘She the girl that was murdered?’ Kasim asked them when they told him what they were there for.
‘That’s right,’ Janet said. ‘You picked her up, when?’
‘Just after one.’
‘Where from?’
‘Shudehill, near the Printworks,’ he said.
‘Where did you drop her?’
‘Fairland Avenue.’
‘She was on her own?’ Janet said.
‘Yeah.’
‘Dispatch says she’s a regular fare?’
He shrugged. ‘We’re reliable. People stick with you if they know you’re gonna turn up.’
‘Did she say anything?’
‘No, just, maybe the weather?’ Like he was guessing. Janet didn’t want guesses.
‘Can you remember what she was wearing?’ Rachel said.
He exhaled noisily, indicating that was a really hard task. ‘To be honest’ – he shook his head – ‘don’t even notice what the girlfriend’s wearing half the time.’
‘Anything about the trip, about the girl? How was she?’ said Janet.
‘Quiet,’ he ventured.
An unmemorable passenger had turned out to be front-page news, but Kasim had no juicy story to dine off. He could barely remember the fare.
‘What time did you drop her?’ Janet said.
He considered, rubbing his chin with one hand. ‘Maybe quarter past one, no later.’
‘She make or receive any calls?’ Rachel said.
