‘Talk to you?’ she said. ‘Ben, we’re different people, you and me. You have support from your family, you’ve been surrounded by it all your life. I’m sure that’s lovely and warm and fuzzy, and all that. But some of us have grown up without the need for support. We’re strong enough to look after ourselves. So your concern isn’t necessary.’
‘You know, if we’re going to get a forced shake-up in this department, we should stick together.’
‘Are you the shop steward all of a sudden, Ben? I didn’t even know we’d got a trade union.’
‘I’m not suggesting we work to rule or anything. Just — you know, support each other.’
Fry hissed, a sound low enough that no one else in the office would hear it, but piercing enough for Cooper to get the message loud and clear.
‘Ben, I don’t need your support, OK? I’ll be just fine. Go and give your support to someone else.’
‘Think you’ll get support from Superintendent Branagh? It would be like Dracula becoming a vegetarian.’
Fry stood up and began to stack the files back together.
‘I’ll do that, if you like,’ said Cooper.
‘I can do it myself.’
She grabbed her phone off the desk, flicking it open as if to check whether she had any messages, though they both knew it would have rung if she had. He was perfectly familiar with her ring tone. No downloaded pop tunes for Fry, just a few unobtrusive electronic notes like something from the opening of The X Files. Nothing to upset a bereaved relative.
In fact, a strange silence had descended on the CID room. Cooper turned, and saw Detective Superintendent Branagh standing in the doorway. She said nothing, but looked at Fry and raised one eyebrow.
‘Coming, ma’am,’ said Fry.
She went almost eagerly, and Cooper began to wonder whether he was completely wrong, and everyone else was wrong too, about Fry going through a bad time. Maybe it was something else entirely. Perhaps it was quite the opposite.
Before they left, Cooper looked at Superintendent Branagh again. Who would want to hitch their wagon to that kind of horse?
29
‘So,’ said Branagh when Fry had settled in a chair in her office. ‘DS Fry, do you think you have the full support of your team?’
Fry felt herself grow tense. She’d tried to prepare herself before she came into the superintendent’s office, but this wasn’t the question she’d been expecting. Branagh might look like a bruiser, but this was surely fighting dirty.
‘Has someone said — ’
Branagh shook her head. ‘Whatever discussions might have gone on with other members of staff, they’re confidential. Just as our discussion is this afternoon.’
‘Of course.’
‘DS Fry, I know you came here after a distressing incident in Birmingham, when you were with the West Midlands force.’
Fry swallowed. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘The management team here were impressed with you. Hence the quick promotion. But since then…’
‘I’ve worked very hard for this division,’ said Fry. ‘I hope my work has been appreciated.’
‘Indeed. But to go back a few steps… After the incident, you began the standard counselling process. But there’s a note here that you abandoned the counselling sessions before they were complete. A personal matter.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Yet the earliest reports on you said that you were suffering no ill effects from the incident. Your supervisor even suggested that the experience might have made you a stronger person. “Baptism of fire” was a phrase used. He described you as “solid as a rock”.’
‘Yes.’
‘Of course, that report was written by a man,’ said Branagh.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t understand.’
‘My own view,’ said Branagh, ‘is that no one is strengthened by an experience like the one you went through.’
And then the superintendent did something even worse. She leaned forward and smiled. A friendly, understanding smile that made Fry’s heart sink.
‘Diane, I do appreciate that it must have been very traumatic. Impossible just to put it behind you and forget all about it.’
And suddenly it was first-name terms. Fry steeled herself. There was no doubt about it now. Something horrible was about to happen.
Liz Petty phoned Cooper on his mobile in the office. He glanced around, but there was no one near enough to overhear.
‘How did it go with Diane Fry?’
‘Not good. In fact, she told me to keep my nose out of her business and stop trying to interfere in her life.’
‘She was a bit cool on the idea, then?’
‘You might say that.’
‘Mmm,’ said Liz doubtfully.
Cooper wondered what that sound meant. ‘She doesn’t really have a private life, you know. She talks about work all the time.’
‘Does she really never talk about anything properly? Anything that matters?’
‘No. Well, not to me.’
‘What happened to that sister?’
‘Angie? She was here for a few months, then she disappeared again. Besides, Angie was always bad news.’
‘Diane must need to talk to someone, some time.’
‘Maybe it’s just me, then.’
‘Yes, Ben.’
He sighed. ‘I really thought we were starting to get on a bit better, too. When she first transferred to E Division, I made an effort to be her friend. But something went wrong, and I’m not quite sure what. Now she only seems to see me as a threat.’
‘It’s all about control,’ said Petty.
‘Control?’
‘For some people, control is very important. More important than anything else. They’d rather give things up than feel they’ve let somebody else take control from them. It makes people very defensive.’
‘Well, it’s too much for me. How do I get myself into these situations?’
‘By being you, I guess, Ben.’
‘Who’d be me, then?’
‘You have to get her out of the office,’ said Liz. ‘She can’t relax while she’s at work. You can see it in her face, all the time. What does she do when she’s off duty?’
‘I don’t really know,’ admitted Cooper.
He heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the phone. ‘Why not? What do you talk about in the office, apart from the job?’
‘Well, it’s usually Gavin doing the talking,’ said Cooper. ‘So — football, telly, the problems with teenage children… Food.’
