Carol waited for the waiter to deposit their beers, then said, I can manage, you know. Ive been a cop for a long time. Im capable of catching villains without your help.
Tony took a long drink from the bottle of Indian lager while he considered how to deal with her wilful misunderstanding. Im not here to help you do your job. Im here because thats what friends do. He gave a crooked smile. And besides, it suits me to be here. You should see the nutters theyve got locked up in Bradfield Moor. Its a dream come true for a weirdo like me.
Carol snorted, spraying the paper tablecloth with beer. Bastard! You waited till I had a mouthful of beer to make me laugh.
What do you expect? Im trained to provoke reactions. So, where are you living?
Im camping in Michaels spare room while I look for somewhere to rent. Carol studied the menu.
Tony pretended to do the same, though he already knew hed choose the fish pakora followed by the chicken biryani. The lack of commitment implied by Carols decision to rent rather than to sell up in London and buy in Bradfield was understandable. She wanted to leave herself an escape route. But it troubled him nevertheless. That must feel strange, he said. It having been your flat in the first place.
Its not ideal. I dont think Lucys crazy about having me there. Shes a barrister, remember? She does a lot of criminal defence work, so she has a tendency to regard me in the same light as a chicken farmer regards a fox. The waiter returned and they ordered their meals. As he departed, Carol met Tonys eyes. What about you? Where are you living?
I was lucky. I sold my cottage in Cellardyke practically overnight. Ive just bought a place here. Near where I used to live. A Victorian semi. Three bedrooms, two receptions. Nice big rooms, very light.
Sounds good.
The waiter plonked a plate of poppadums and a tray of relishes in front of them. Tony took the opportunity to busy himself with something other than Carol. Thing is, its got a cellar. Pretty much self-contained. Two big rooms, natural light. Toilet and shower. And a little boxroom you could easily turn into a kitchen. He looked up, the question in his eyes.
Carol stared at him, clearly unsure if he was saying what she thought. She gave an uncertain laugh. What would I do with a kitchen?
Good point. But it does give you somewhere to put the washing machine.
Are you seriously offering me your cellar?
Why not? Itd solve your accommodation problem. And having a copper on the premises would give me a sense of security. He grinned. More importantly, Nelson would keep the mice away.
Carol fiddled with the lime pickle. I dont know. Does it have a separate entrance?
Well, of course. I wouldnt want to compromise your reputation. Theres a door that leads to a flight of steps up to the back garden. And an internal door down from the house, obviously. But it would be a simple enough thing to fit a lock to that. He smiled. You could have bolts too, if you wanted.
Youve been thinking about this, havent you?
Tony shrugged. When I viewed the house, it seemed like a good way of making it work for a living. I didnt know what your plans were. But the builders started work on it yesterday. And Id rather have you living there than a stranger. Look, dont make a decision now. Think about it. Sleep on it. Theres no hurry. There was an uncomfortable silence while they both tried to figure out where to take the conversation next. So how was your first day back in harness? What are you working on? Tony asked, moving the conversation away from treacherous shoals.
Until we get a new major case, were taking a look at a bunch of unsolveds. Carol looked up as the waiter brought their starters.
That must be pretty soul-destroying.
Normally it would be. She reached for her aloo chat. But amazingly enough, we actually scored a break this afternoon. Purely by chance, a detective from another squad stumbled across a new lead. I cant help seeing it as a positive omen.
Thats a great start.
Carols expression was rueful. Yes and no. You remember Don Merrick? Hes the DI on my team. And the trouble is that the break came on one of his cold cases. Which makes him feel pretty sick.
Not Tim Golding?
Carol tipped her head in acknowledgement. The one he called you in on. Thanks for telling me, Tony, she added ironically.
He looked embarrassed. To tell you the truth, I was afraid of muddying the waters while you were considering coming back to Bradfield. I didnt want to influence your decision one way or the other.
Carol smiled. Oh, you think your presence in Bradfield would have been such a draw?
He put down the pakora that was halfway to his lips. The truth, Carol? I was afraid if you knew I was here, it would be the last place on earth youd want to be.
Don Merrick stared glumly into his pint of Newcastle Brown Ale, his Labrador eyes sad and brooding. Stop looking on the fucking bright side, Paula, he grumbled. Because there isnt a fucking bright side, all right?
Paula ran her finger down the condensation on her bottle of Smirnoff Ice. They were the last survivors of the bonding session the team had decided on after DCI Jordan had called it a day. There hadnt been much of a celebratory atmosphere, truth to tell. Stacey and Sam had excused themselves after the first round, and Kevin had been sucked into a drawn-out game of pool in the pubs ratty back room. Neither Paula nor Merrick minded. Theyd worked together long enough to slip the bonds of rank once they were on their own time. Please yourself, Don.
That photoI cant help thinking about what that lad went through before he died. And dont try to contradict me, he continued, holding up a hand to fend Paula off. We both know that the kind of scum whod do that to a kid wouldnt leave a witness. Tim Goldings dead. But he was alive long enough to be taken off somewhere in the middle of nowhere and subjected to Christ knows what. That picture was taken in daylight, which means he was still alive the next morning. And thats what Im having trouble with. If Id done my job, wed have found him.
Paula reached across the table and helped herself to one of Merricks cigarettes. If youre getting maudlin, I need a smoke.
Thought youd stopped.
I have. She inhaled deeply. Thats bullshit, what you were just saying. We worked that case into the ground. Youve got to stop beating yourself up like this, Don. Apart from anything else, we need you not to be fucked up. Weve already got a fucked-up DCI. The last thing we need is a fucked-up DI as well.
Merrick looked at her in surprise. You think Carol Jordans fucked up?
Of course she is. She was raped, Don. And it happened because a bunch of suits thought so little of her they staked her out like a Judas goat. However you cut it, shes not playing with a full deck right now. Her judgements compromised.
Merrick shook his head. I dont know, Paula. She seemed pretty much on her game to me.
Its easy to talk the talk when theres no pressure. But Im not sure shell be able to walk the walk any more.
Merrick looked doubtful. Its far too soon to be talking like that. Carol Jordans the best guvnor I ever worked for.
I thought so once too. But now? Paula swigged the rest of her drink. Lets see if youre saying that in six months time. So what do you make of the newbies?
Early days. Merrick shrugged. That Stacey knows her way round the machines, thats for sure.
I keep catching myself wondering if she is a machine, Paula giggled. Shes not one of the girls, thats for sure. I keep trying to get her talking, but shes definitely not one for idle chit-chat.
Merrick grinned. Yeah, somehow I cant see her gossiping about men and make-up in the toilets. But shes quick enough to weigh in when somebody needs a bit of help with the computers.
What about Sam? Whats your take on him? Paula asked.
Seems all right. He doesnt have much to say for himself.
Im not sure about him. Theres something a bit creepy there, Paula confided. One of my mates used to work with him over at Downton, and she said he was slimy. Never said much, but never missed a chance to put one over on everybody else. And always incredibly well informed about what everybody else was up to. Apparently, he likes to look good to the bosses, does our Sam.
Well, we all like to make a good impression, Merrick said.
Yeah, but not necessarily at the expense of our colleagues. Oh, and she said he was never at ease with her or the other women on the squad. She thought he was a bit of a secret sexist.
Merrick laughed. Paula, these days were only allowed to be sexist in secret or else you and the sisters come down on us like a ton of bricks.
She punched him affectionately on the arm. You know what I mean. She contemplated her empty bottle. You ready for another?
I should be getting home, Merrick said reluctantly.
Paula got to her feet, grinning. Thatll be another brown ale, then?
He knows these streets like the inside of his pocket. Hes walked them, worked them since he was a kid. He knows the faces, he knows the places where certain people can be found at particular times of the day and night. He never thought anything of it before, it was just the way the world turned. But the Voice has made him understand that knowledge is power, that what he knows makes him king of the streets.
He shambles along in his usual fashion, trying his very best to look like he would on any other night. He does a bit of business, just to cover himself, just to make it look like any other night. The Voice said he should do that. So that when the questions come, people will place him in the usual haunts, doing the usual things.
But soon its time. He knows where to find her. Its where she always is between punters. He clears his throat and walks up to her. He tells her what he wants. She looks amused, as if she cant quite believe its him asking for it. No discounts for mates, mind, she says. He blushes and squirms. It makes him uncomfortable that she calls him a mate. Because what hes about to do to her is nothing like the things that mates do to each other, no way. But she doesnt see whats in his mind. She sees what she expects to see: a punter who feels awkward because hes a fish out of water.
He tells her he wants to go back to her room. He knewabout the room even before the Voice. He knows much more about what goes on round here than anybody gives him credit for. He follows her round the corner into the ginnel where her room is, giving a quick glance over his shoulder. Nobody is paying any attention. Even if they wanted to, its too dark round here; the dealers smash the streetlights so often the councils given up replacing them. And even if they had eyes like a cat, theyd assume it was him working, not getting her to work for him.
Up the stairs she goes, her arse tight in her short skirt. Its amazing, but he feels himself getting hard at the sight of it. Hes seen these girls a million times before, theyre just part of the landscape, they dont normally register any more. But tonight, watching Sandies gyrating hips, hes turned on. He remembers dimly what hes supposed to do at this point and he pulls out the digital camera and snaps her as she goes. The flash makes her stop in her tracks and whirl round. What the fuck are you up to? she demands.
He waves the camera at her. I just wanted something to remember you by, he says, the rehearsed words tripping out with hardly a stumble.
She frowns for a second, then laughs. Thatll cost you.
He snaps another shot. I can afford it, he says. She carries on upstairs and he follows. At the door, she stops. Lets see the colour of your money, she says. You want to tie me up, you pay upfront.
He takes out the money the Voice left with his instructions and peels off some notes. Sandie snatches at it and shoves it into her little handbag. Business must be better for you than it is for me, she says, her voice bitter as the coffee in Stans Café. She opens the door. Come on then, lets get it over with.
He smiles. She wouldnt be saying that if she knew whathes got for her. But then, if he does what hes told, she wont be saying anything again. Ever.
Temple Fields hadnt changed much in the past couple of years, Carol thought as they walked back to her car. The same litter tumbling along the gutters, the same mixture of self-conscious seekers after what passed for pleasure rubbing awkward shoulders with those who had already found it and lost all inhibitions along the way. Her police officers mind clocked them as she passed: the frail-looking rent boys, the bored hookers, the shifty sellers of chemical promises, and the easy marks who moved among them, obvious in their fake confidence. But the woman behind the badge shivered at the traffic in human flesh and folly. She didnt want to think of the acts that would take place in this square mile before morning. Carol felt as though shed lost a layer of skin somewhere, and wondered how long it would take to grow back.
Same old same old, she said wearily. Look at themthey think theyve made a deal with the world that will keep them safe. Theyve no bloody idea how fragile they are.
They cant afford to think about it, Tony said, his eyes taking in the parade on streets splashed with garish neon from the bars.
They walked on in silence. Ill give you a lift, Carol said as they neared her car.
No, youre all right. I feel like walking. Carol raised her eyebrows. Thinking time? Tony nodded. I saw someone today and I need to figure out how to keep the promise I made him.
Your latest crusade? Carol smiled.
Tony looked surprised. Is that how you see what I do?
I think its how you see what you do. A one-man crusade to mend the damage.
He shrugged. I wish it was that easy. So, youll come round tomorrow night to see the house?
I will. Then maybe I can decide if I want to be the mad woman in the cellar. Shall I bring pizza?
He considered. Chinese, he said finally.
OK. She reached for the drivers door. Tonythanks for tonight. And for being here in Bradfield.
He looked surprised. Why would I be anywhere else? Everything I need is here. Instead of speaking his thoughts aloud, he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. See you tomorrow.