Staying Power (20 page)

The best thing to do now, with the room relatively quiet, was to go through the list of credit referees. Not a Minim or a Breve amongst them. BrightSparks, Brio, Clef, Concerto, Darling, Gifts4All, Prettyware – right down to Zappideal.

‘Some will be bona fide, of course,' said Dyson, over her shoulder. ‘Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump. That one there – see, they only guaranteed a thousand pounds, though. It's those with the highest ratings that you want to look for. Now, Kate, I forgot to say this this morning. Keep a copy. Of everything. One for the records. One for your records. One for me. OK, they say Fraud cut down more forests than any other department, but remember we're talking evidence, here. Evidence a jury has to understand. They see it written down, they're more likely to believe you. Time and date. Graham tells me you're a decent detective, but in Fraud you've got to be more than decent. You've got to be obsessive over detail. And that's the first detail to remember. Copies.'

Was that ulcerous behaviour? She decided to risk asking for a phone extension and an answerphone. And got both, with a wave of the hand. ‘Just keep a note of when and why you requested it. That's all. Oh, and a copy for me.'

Kate was poring over the list while she waited for Graham, who was uncharacteristically late. She wondered if in fact she was being stood up: had fear of his wife's displeasure overcome his desire to meet her? And though she was happy to flap a matey hand at any coppers who happened to be using the place, she didn't want to invite company. Not until her standing up was definite.

‘Another one?' Graham's hand hovered over her glass.

She knew her smile was unguarded, saw him register, return it with one equally open. And then their faces returned to formality.

‘Cast your beadies over this while I get you one,' she said. ‘Your usual bitter?'

‘I think I'll settle for half of mild tonight. Why don't you try it? Midlands speciality.'

It was only as she ordered that she realised what they'd said might have two meanings.

‘What's the problem?' Graham asked, putting the list down on the table so he could take both glasses from her.

She stood by his shoulder, pointing. ‘We know Minim and Breve look pretty dodgy. What I want to guess is which of the others to go for first. Limited time, limited money. Oh, and keep copies of everything.'

He ran an index finger down the column, stopping to point from time to time. The wedding ring he wore, much wider, much heavier than average, glinted in the cosy lighting. ‘Easy. That one. That one.' And so on.

He made a minute gesture with his head. She sat, at right angles to him, but pulled her chair round closer to his to watch his progress.

‘Why those?'

‘Breve.' He pronounced it as one syllable. ‘Minim.'

‘We thought it was – Oh, God!'

‘And you're supposed to be the chapel organist! OK, retired.'

‘So we should go for the ones that sound musical first. I should have noticed: they figure more frequently than some of the others, too. Graham, you're a genius.' She clasped his forearm briefly, in what she'd meant to be congratulation. It was the sort of gesture she made to Colin without thinking. Even beneath the layers of fabric, she felt his muscles tense. She released him as quickly as she could without appearing to snatch back.

She willed him to respond lightly. He had to carry the moment.

‘Fully paid up member of Mensa,' he said. ‘That's me. Or I will be as soon as I pass the entrance test. What now?'

‘I check out a few of your choices, then I put it to Lizzie that we trace the person who let out their premises – almost certainly unoccupied by now.'

‘How are you getting on with Lizzie?'

‘She's not exactly a founder member of the Kate Appreciation Society. Maybe it's because I'm a Butterfly,' she added, to the tune of ‘Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner'.

‘She's had a tough time. You and she should be singing from the same hymn sheet.'

‘Do you know her well?'

‘She was a neighbour of ours for a while. When we lived out in Quinton. She was there – she was very helpful – when my wife lost her baby.'

‘I'm so sorry.'

‘Hmm. It was a difficult time. She lost it very late, you see.'

Kate nodded, but said nothing. Perhaps her silence was sympathetic, but it was also a pause for rapid thinking. He'd said ‘her baby' – not ‘our baby'. And he'd called it ‘it'. Not very warm. And had his wife – never a first name! – then had post-natal depression? Had she still got it?

‘You didn't try for another baby?' she asked eventually.

‘My wife – no, she said she didn't want to risk it again. She'd been quite ill, you see. And she's not been what you'd call strong ever since. She has support, of course. The people at the church … Sometimes,' he added, dropping his voice so low it was hard to hear him though the conversations buzzing around them, ‘sometimes it's not easy. Knowing what to do. Knowing whether to stay. Knowing whether by being there you make things worse.'

‘You stayed.'

‘Twenty years. Every time you work with a woman she's sure you're having a relationship. Sometimes you feel driven to do just that. A lot of attractive women in the police, Kate.'

Colin had said something once, hadn't he? About Graham and another officer? He'd broken it off, not her.

‘Anyway, I'd better be getting home to her now,' The life had gone out of his voice. It wasn't the voice of a man who wanted a woman to say ‘Come home with me instead', was it?

Kate groped for something to say. Robin's wife had been plain nasty. So she'd always thought. It was easier to go on if you thought that. But Graham's wife might not be simply a Gorgon. She might be a sick woman.

‘Another half?' Even to her ears the question sounded lame.

‘Another night,' he said. ‘If you've got time.'

‘I've always got time,' she said, ‘for a friend.'

Kate couldn't face going back home, not yet. She made her way back to Lloyd House, to find not only a new desk but also an answerphone sitting on it. Dyson had worked fast. She moved her file from the table, and put it in the middle of the desk. No chair yet. The one she'd used earlier had disappeared. No problem. She could record her incoming message sitting on the desk. No fluffs – right on the first take.

What about phoning Isobel?

No reply. This time she left a message on their machine asking her to call back. And crossed her fingers as she replaced the handset. OK, time to head for home and cook up some fish.

As she passed it, she saw yet another phone message on Lizzie's desk.

Kate

Please phone me as soon as you can.

Fatima.

Great. Breaking a promise or disobeying a direct order? And the order one not without good reason. Hell, why couldn't this have come in an hour ago, so she could have chewed it over with Graham?

She was heading back to her desk when she was aware of movement behind her.

‘You're working very late, Kate.' It was Dyson. ‘And – if I may say so – you don't look very happy about it.'

‘It's not the working late, Sir. Not when you've whistled up all this lot so quickly.' She gestured. ‘Thanks. No, I've got a problem.'

‘This squad or your own?'

‘My own.' Funny how good that sounded.

‘Take it back there, then. If I know him, Graham Harvey'll still be there. Or failing him, Superintendent Neville. Go on, Kate: that's what he's paid for – to make decisions. And to take the rap if they're the wrong ones.'

Although Kate had set out to follow Dyson's advice, she turned for home instead. She knew Neville started his days early – she'd catch him before she went into Lloyd House next morning. In what little was left of this evening, she ought to pop in to see Cassie.

There was very little indeed left by the time she eventually got home, and she was far from cheered by the nose-to-tail ranks of cars in her road. So the local school was having a parents' evening, and it was of course a biological fact that parents were incapable of approaching a school without the protection of a car. Cursing, she parked in an adjoining road, no doubt in someone else's cherished spot.

Still the same old concrete floor of course. Roll on Thursday. And a decision about what she did to let the floorers in. She'd have to get Cope to chase Selby on that one. The thought of having her own house open to possible burglars hadn't concentrated her mind as wonderfully as she'd have expected.

Suddenly cooking for herself didn't seem an option. So what was it to be – another chicken tikka naan or something out of the freezer? No contest: the chicken tikka naan meant turning out again.

She still had some wine in her glass when on the off-chance she phoned Isobel's number. Three rings, and Howard replied. She introduced herself and asked for Isobel.

‘I just want to find out when it would be most convenient for me to collect that freezer box I left behind the other evening,' she added.

‘I'll call her – if you want. But I'm sure she'll say what I said the other day: the evening's the best time to catch us.'

Kate held on for some time. She could hear Sanderson calling his wife, perhaps even detected a murmured reply. What she didn't hear, as she heard an extension being picked up, was the sound of the first line being closed down. Had Howard simply forgotten, or was he still listening?

Isobel certainly repeated what Howard had declared. ‘An evening is probably the best. I'm out so much in the day. It's very hard for me to tell you a time. But another evening this week – Thursday perhaps?'

Why not say that was the night she coached the football team? ‘I'm afraid I'm tied up then,' she said. ‘Tomorrow?'

There was a minute's hesitation. ‘I believe Howard and I may already be committed.'

‘Tell you what,' Kate said, not quite ingenuously, ‘why don't I drop by anyway – your son could give it me. It's no big deal, after all – just a plastic box.'

‘Nigel's very busy. School work. A levels.'

‘It's a difficult time for these kids, isn't it?' she agreed, affably. ‘So how about Friday?' Not that she'd really want to do anything except dance on her kitchen floor, would she?

‘Oh. I believe we're going out on Friday. Perhaps – perhaps we could drop it round to you? On the way?'

Oh, no, you don't
. ‘Well, I was going to collect it from you on the way to somewhere else,' Kate said. ‘Look, it's not that important. I can get another. It's just that I promised a huge batch of mince pies for the Boys' Brigade. Tell you what, maybe if I'm passing I'll just pop round on the off-chance. And if you get a spare hour, you could always phone me and I'll see if I can skive off work for five minutes.' She gave her new number and settled down for an hour in front of the TV.

‘I'd like you to make the call with me as a witness,' Neville said, perhaps as Howard had said to Isobel last night. ‘I can quite appreciate you want to support Fatima, and that she might be upset if you fail to return the call.' He smiled. ‘But you must see why I don't want to do anything that might muddy our waters here. What appears to be happening is a violation of the Race Relations Act, and after the Stephen Lawrence affair I for one am not prepared to let such a thing happen within my area of responsibility. The fact it's sexual harassment as well makes the whole thing even more reprehensible. Put it this way, Kate – I want to nail the bastard.'

That was language Kate could understand. She reached for the phone.

And drew an alarming blank. A woman at the other end told her Fatima had gone to Bradford. Kate left a message.

‘Though I'm not sure she'll get it. The person at the other end didn't speak much English.'

‘You know Fatima spoke no English when she came over here? Until she was nine, that is? Makes her subsequent achievements even more remarkable, I'd say,' Neville said.

Kate nodded. ‘She's a wonderful role model for Asian women,' she said.

Neville rubbed his chin, speculatively. Kate could almost see him thinking,
And she's young and attractive enough to be extremely televisual. And wouldn't that be a good bit of multi-cultural PR for the service?
Out loud he said, ‘Absolutely. I'd like to see her going a long way. When this business is over, I'm sure she'll shoot onwards and upwards.'

‘If we can stop her resigning. I don't like the sound of this return to Bradford. I really don't.'

Neville smiled, and poured her coffee. It was good, the caffeine firing her immediately.

‘I know what you'd like to do, Kate. You'd like to drop everything and go up to see her. This morning. Am I right?'

Kate took another sip. ‘Someone ought to,' she said at last.

‘You're right. In fact, I think I may well go up myself, provided Welfare approve sufficiently to provide a senior woman officer to accompany me. Sooner, rather than later, before you ask.' He clicked his computer mouse. ‘I can make an opportunity – yes, nothing I can't clear. Now, Kate, how are you finding Fraud?'

‘I'm missing the jobs I'd started on here. And one has particular urgency, now I come to think of it. There are some burglaries associated with people having carpets fitted. I'm supposed to be having some laid at my place this Friday. I want to know how safe I'd be handing over my keys. I was going to discuss it with DI Cope.'

‘Fine. Anything else you're working on? I like to know what people are doing even if I can't maintain daily contact.'

‘There are some pharmacy break-ins that interest me. I've spoken to one of my mates from the Met. since I don't know anyone in Drugs up here. I've not set up a nice circle of contacts yet.'