Cop to Corpse

He could have saved his breath.

‘Whisky?’ he said. ‘Sometimes it can help. Or I can make tea. How about tea?’

No reaction. Her brown eyes could have been painted, they were so still, so inscrutable.

‘I’ll shut up, while you take it in,’ he said, easing a finger around his collar, remembering his own darkest moment. The difference was that when Steph had been murdered, he’d found out for himself. He’d attended a crime scene and had the unendurable shock of discovering that the victim was his own wife. It had all been so traumatic he still didn’t have any memory of how he had reacted. One thing he did recall from the days that followed: no one had been capable of comforting him.

Would it be any different for Emma Tasker? He guessed you couldn’t generalise.

If she had screamed, or fainted, or burst into tears, he would have coped better. He was in two minds whether to find the kitchen and make mild, sweet tea, that old remedy. He didn’t dare leave her at this moment. Instead, he turned and looked out of the window, waiting for whatever would happen next, be it an eruption of grief or a quiet request for him to leave.

Minutes passed.

The phone rang. It was on a low table beside the sofa. Automatically Emma Tasker put out a hand.

Diamond moved fast across the room. ‘Leave it,’ he said, his hand closing over hers as she reached for the receiver. ‘This will be the press.’

The contact brought a response from her, one he didn’t expect. Her eyes blazed hostility. ‘Don’t touch me.’

‘Sorry.’ He withdrew his hand.

The ringing stopped.

She rubbed at the back of her hand as if his touch had been contagious.

‘I didn’t want you picking it up,’ he said.

‘You didn’t want?’ She was angry, galvanized. ‘You think you have the right to tell me what to do? This is my home. It’s my phone.’

‘True.’

The simple argument about the phone was the tipping point. She vented all the anger she’d been suppressing and Diamond took the full force. ‘You bastard! You come in here and flash your warrant card at me and tell me the worst thing I could hear and then you expect me to jump to your commands. Mister, you don’t impress me at all. I don’t care if you’re the chief constable. I could spit in your eye. I’ve only got to look at you to know you sit behind a desk ordering good men like my Harry out on the streets at night dealing with drug-dealers and drunks and gang members.’

No use telling her he was CID and Harry was uniform. Her ferocity wasn’t amenable to reason. Better let this storm blow itself out.

She continued with the rant. ‘He never got any credit for all the policing he did. He would have stayed a constable for ever. People like Harry don’t get promoted. They do their work and all the overtime keeping the streets safe without complaining while the creeps and arse-lickers put all their energy into sucking up to the likes of you. I know what I’m talking about. I was in the force for three years until I couldn’t stand it any more. That’s how we met. Are you a Freemason?’

‘No, ma’am.’

She wasn’t listening. ‘The Brotherhood, he called it. Great if you’re a member. He was never asked. He wouldn’t have joined, anyway. He had principles.’ She glanced at the wedding photo on the wall showing a tight- lipped Harry standing rigidly to attention beside herself, his radiant, smiling bride. ‘Did you know him?’

‘Not well,’ Diamond was forced to admit. ‘I work from a different office.’

‘Don’t you listen? He didn’t work in an office,’ she almost screamed at him. ‘He was pounding the streets while you had your feet up. Why the hell did they send you if you hardly knew him?’

‘No one sent me. I volunteered to come.’

‘That beats everything,’ she said. ‘What — do you get a kick out of giving bad news to people?’

In this situation the bereaved can say whatever they want and there’s no comeback.

He shook his head. ‘I’m here because I know what you’re going through. Four years ago my wife was shot and murdered in Victoria Park.’

She gave a sharp, impatient sigh. ‘I’ve got my own cross to bear. I can’t find sympathy for you.’

‘I’m not asking for any,’ he said.

‘I hate the bloody police and all they stand for.’

‘There are times when I’d agree with you. Look, I really think you should drink something. You’ve had a terrific shock. Shall I make tea?’

She stabbed a finger at him. ‘Don’t even think about stepping into my kitchen.’

He’d not expected hostility like this. She’d taken against him and nothing he could do or say would alter that. The only way now was to find someone she was willing to relate to. Then think of an exit line.

‘Is there anyone you’d like me to contact? A neighbour? A friend? I’m thinking somebody should be with you.’

Those fierce brown eyes rejected the suggestion outright, but she relented enough to say. ‘Someone should tell them I won’t be in for work.’

An opening. He went for it. ‘Fine. Where is it? What’s the number?’

She was a supervisor at Playzone, the children’s activity centre, she told him before giving the details. He couldn’t help wondering how small kids fared with this pent-up aggression. Maybe she was totally different with them. He called the place and said Mrs. Tasker had suffered the loss of a close relative and might not be in for a few days. When he finished the call she was no longer in the room.

He heard a kettle being filled, so he followed her into the kitchen, defying her order to keep out. She had her back to him yet she must have heard his approach because without turning to look she said, ‘I’m just so angry. He’s been on nights all week. We’ve scarcely seen each other.’

‘And there are things you wish you’d said?’ He was speaking from painful experience.

‘I feel cheated.’

‘You have every right. Believe me, we’ll pull out all the stops.’

She snorted at that. ‘If you want sugar, it’s in the cupboard behind you.’

While this embodiment of fury busied herself with milk carton and teapot, Diamond was bold enough to seek information. He asked if Harry had been threatened by anyone, recently or in the past.

‘Apart from me, you mean?’ she said without a glimmer of irony. ‘I gave him hell on a regular basis. No, he was too easygoing to make enemies. Mind, he didn’t tell me everything. Harry wasn’t much of a communicator. He kept his feelings hidden. If I asked about his job, he’d say there wasn’t anything worth mentioning.’

‘I don’t have to tell you police work is like that a lot of the time,’ Diamond said. ‘Loads of boring stuff you wouldn’t want to hear about.’

‘You don’t get it, do you, bloody man?’ she said, widening her big eyes, ‘Anything is better than silence.’

Lady, you’re going to get a lot of that in the weeks and months to come, he thought. ‘I’m asking these questions because we have to be certain he wasn’t shot by someone he knew.’

‘He was killed by that madman who’s been targeting policemen, wasn’t he?’ she said. ‘I’ve forgotten what they call him.’

‘The Somerset Sniper. That’s a strong possibility. If so, it was almost certainly done because Harry wore the uniform, nothing more. He was a cop, so he was fair game. Doesn’t make it any easier to accept.’

‘To come back to your question, I can’t think of anyone who hated him enough to kill him.’

‘Did he have any interests outside the police?’

‘Fishing.’

He took this as another rebuke. ‘I’m doing my job. We need to know.’

‘I said. He fished, with a rod and line. Is that clear enough for you?’

He gave a faint, embarrassed smile.

She added, ‘He didn’t get much time for it.’

‘You must have gone out together sometimes. Where did you go? A favourite pub?’

‘You’ve got to be joking. If we went out more than twice in the past year I can’t recall it. All he ever wanted was to put his feet up and watch telly. It was the job. It tired him out. If I go out, it has to be with the girls, my