‘Good. He wasn’t right for you.’
She frowned. Still he made no move to start the car. There was silence for a moment, and she decided to change the subject. ‘Well, I was thrilled to see your plan worked with North. That was really great. I didn’t see any reference to drugs, though. He tried to make a break for it, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, he heard that he was going to be arrested, so he tried to leave the country. We were waiting for him when he landed in Lisbon.’
‘Oh gosh, so he nearly slipped away again, like the last time.’
‘Not really. He was never going to be arrested on drugs charges. We just got him to believe that, through the same source that tipped him off before. His solicitor, Martin Francis Connell.’
Kathy froze. ‘Martin!’
Then, carefully, ‘Martin wasn’t his solicitor, he said he wasn’t
…’
Brock sat with his head bowed, letting her work it out.
‘How would Martin have been able to know about the police investigation?’ she asked.
‘There were two possible sources, both detectives in ED Division who helped with the original case. One was Detective Sergeant Andrew Rutherford.’
‘Andy Rutherford. He was suspended last month.’
‘The same day North was arrested.’
A pause. ‘And the other one was me?’
Brock said nothing, waited.
‘The Winterbottom case,’ Kathy said slowly. ‘You were never part of it, were you? You were still working on North. It always seemed so odd to me. And you were so casual about the investigation. Not at all how I’d heard you were. I thought you’d mellowed!’ Her face was to the side window, her voice gradually hardening with anger. ‘But I was working on the case and you were working on me. Martin used me, and so did you. God!’ She turned to face him, eyes blazing. ‘Couldn’t you have told me?’
‘I’m telling you now, Kathy,’ he said softly, eyes fixed on the foot pedals.
She stared at him, her anger flowing, breathing hard.
‘Well, too late!’ She reached for the door handle.
‘Think about it, Kathy. That’s over now. There’s no doubt about trusting you any more.’
‘Oh, is that right, sir? And how do you think I’d ever be able to trust you again?’
At around 8 that evening Brock was caught in a thunderstorm as he stepped out of his car. Both lifts in Kathy’s block were out of action, and he had to climb the twelve floors. It was like a steam bath inside his coat by the time he arrived, chest heaving, at her door.
She took so long to answer that he was on the point of turning back when at last her door opened. Her face was pale, without make-up, her hair pulled severely back from her forehead. She was wearing faded jeans and an old sweatshirt. She stared coldly at him, saying nothing.
‘Ah, Kathy. Glad you’re in.’ His amiability sounded strained, especially since he was still gasping to recover his breath. ‘Just thought I’d have another word with you… about this morning.’
‘I’d rather not if you don’t mind, sir.’ She started to close the door, but he stuck out his foot. She stared at it for a moment, then looked him in the eye. Embarrassed, he withdrew it and raised his right hand. In it was a bunch of blue cornflowers, gift-wrapped with a pink ribbon.
‘Did you buy those for me?’ she asked slowly.
‘Yes, I… er…’
‘If I had been a male officer, would you have bought them for me? Or did you think that, being a woman, I’d just go all gooey at the sight of a bunch of flowers?’ Her voice had a terrible calm. ‘If I may say, sir, I think it would be best if you didn’t give me those flowers, because I’d just have to waste five minutes feeding them down the sink garbage grinder. I’d have to do that, because if I put them in a vase I’d spend even more time cleaning up the floor, on account of my throwing up every time I saw them. So on balance I think it would be best if you just took them home and gave them to your mother or sister or whoever it is you live with.’
Brock’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. For a moment he was utterly at a loss as to what to say. He was saved by a small voice behind him.
‘Everything all right, dear?’
Kathy looked past his shoulder, ‘Yes, Mrs P. Everything’s fine.’
She looked back at the bulky figure of the Chief Inspector, steaming, dripping and wilting in front of her, and some momentary instinct of generosity overcame her.
‘Oh, come in, then,’ she said, and turned back into her flat.
He didn’t like to remove his coat, nor was he invited to do so. The place was simply and frugally furnished, and he sat himself on an old plastic chair beside an oval timber dining table. The curtains were open, and the window was filled with the blackness of the night, criss-crossed by chains of streetlights on the ground far below, trailing off to the horizon.
He laid the flowers on the table.
‘You’re right, they were a bad idea. The woman in the shop suggested them. Roses would have been wrong, and the irises and chrysanthemums seemed too assertive somehow. I haven’t got a mother or a sister as a matter of fact. I live on my own. Have done for a long time now. I quite like it, really. Got used to getting home to an empty house, going to sleep in an empty bed, and now I enjoy it. The main problem is the food, having to cook for one. I like to cook, but the quantities are too small, and after a while the freezer just fills up with stuff I’m never going to eat. Do you find that? I was married for a while, but it didn’t last very long. I think, being a copper, the hours, I don’t know. We had one child, a boy. Yes, I know I told you I didn’t have any children. I usually do, it’s easier. We never kept in touch much. And now I’m not sure where he is. Canada, the last I heard.
‘I try not to let the hassles of the job get to me, on a personal level, more than they should. But I feel bad about this, with you. I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do, and I just wanted to say sorry. Sorry because I liked you, and sorry because I like to work with the best, and I thought you were a good officer. So, I’ll take these and go.’ He picked up the bunch of flowers and started to get to his feet.
‘Oh, put them down,’ Kathy said. He subsided into the chair again. She stood facing him, a hand on her hip.
‘Tell me how you knew it was Andy Rutherford and not me.’
Brock shrugged. ‘We gave each of you the same information about the drug raid, but then we gave each of you something else. We told Rutherford that we were about to do a deal with the Swiss Government to get at the assets which serious criminals were holding in Swiss banks. North shifted his money out of Switzerland just before he ran. We told you about his son having leukaemia. It was clear when we caught him that he had no idea about that.’
Kathy nodded. She remembered with relief how close she had been to telling Martin, and the thought of him brought the usual sharp stab, smaller now but still there. She shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of resignation and sat down opposite him. ‘Martin was very special for me. I know all the reasons why he was wrong, but I can’t deny him that. I’ve got over him now, more or less. Although I wish the bastard hadn’t taken his wife to Grenada. I’d offer you a drink, but I’m out of everything.’
‘Well now,’ Brock said, ‘in the faint chance that the flowers didn’t work, I did take the liberty of bringing this too,’ and he drew a bottle of Scotch from his coat pocket. Kathy laughed and went to the kitchen for glasses and a jug of water.
They stood by the window looking out over the city, sipping the whisky.
‘After those five days in Jerusalem Lane last year I became quite discontented here for a while,’ she said. ‘They have no views like this, nothing except of the street, but they don’t need them. They’re in a place. Here you’re on the outside. There’s no place here. No one knows anyone else. Mrs P only speaks to me occasionally because she needs me sometimes for help with the shopping. People like the anonymity, of course. I did until I spent that time in the Lane, then I realized what we missed.
‘They were a real family, the three sisters, weren’t they? You could tell, from the way they talked. They were talking in a family code that was sometimes hard for an outsider to follow. What they believed was a reflection not just of the kind of people they were, but of the part they played in the family. You know, the practical one who put the food on the table, the principled one who kept them on the straight and narrow, the tease who got them over
