“It crossed my mind.”
“But how does this Lovett business fit in with Mack’s alibi on the night of the Voss murder?”
The drinks arrived. For the first time, Cook didn’t begin drinking straight away. He seemed oblivious to the presence of the glass in front of him, his attention fixed exclusively on Rathe. “Mack claims that on the night Voss was killed, he got a phone call from one of Lovett’s associates. An invitation, telling Mack to go to a certain place at a certain time.”
“Where?”
“An industrial estate. That doesn’t matter too much, but the fact it was in Newcastle does. Mack drove up there, thinking he was about to meet Lovett, all his hopes for a twisted partnership of dirt reignited.”
“But Lovett never showed.”
“Claims never to have ordered the meeting at all.”
Rathe leaned ba
