to find his car, when he spotted someone he knew.
Rose Martin, walking along the street opposite.
His first instinct was to turn round, walk as far away from her as possible. He hadn’t known her long, but the impression she had made on him wasn’t a good one. However, he couldn’t. Because she was looking straight at him. He would have to talk to her.
She crossed the road, approached him. Smiled.
‘Hello, Mickey. Long time no see.’
‘Didn’t know you lived round here, Rose.’
She gave a small, stifled laugh. ‘Me? Live round here? You’re joking, aren’t you? No. I’m working.’
‘Oh good,’ he said, relieved that she was no longer with the police. ‘What as?’
She frowned, gave him a quizzical look. ‘As a police officer. What else would I be doing?’
Mickey was lost for words. He knew what she had gone through, how she had been put on long-term sick. Everyone knew it. And most people never expected her to return.
‘That surprised you, didn’t it?’
‘Well, yeah… What happened?’
‘Glass brought me back.’
‘You’re not working on… ’
A dark cloud passed over her features. ‘No. Oh God, no. No, it’s a road accident. Well, we think it’s an accident. Dead woman.’ She gestured back the way she had come. ‘Lived down there. Prossie.’
‘Right.’
They stood there looking at each other. Nothing more to say.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’d better get on. Nice to see you, Mickey. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.’
God, he hoped not. ‘Yeah. Sure, Rose.’
She was turning to go, stopped. ‘Oh, and it’s Detective Inspector now. I’ve been promoted. Bye.’
She smiled, turned and walked away.
Mickey was left standing there, absorbing that last piece of information. The pedestrian crossing sounded. He just stared at it, unmoving.
‘Detective Inspector… Jesus Christ… ’
23
‘So how is he?’
Marina walked up to the tape at the bottom of East Hill, phone clamped to her ear. She heard Anni’s voice.
‘Asleep again. Didn’t stay awake much after you went. He’s exhausted.’
‘Did he say anything more?’
‘Nothing. I’m still here, but if he’s not moving, I might leave a uniform to look after him, or get someone from, I don’t know, Family Liaison? I’m at a bit of a loss.’
‘He needs a psychologist.’
‘Yeah, well he had one. Very briefly. But she had to go.’
Marina smiled. ‘We’ll talk later.’
She pocketed the phone, held up her ID, ducked under the tape.
She felt the eyes of the crowd on the bridge watching her as she did so. Knew that media crews would be in there too. They would all be wondering who she was, what she was doing there. She felt like a celeb on a red carpet. It gave her quite a thrill. Probably more than she would have liked in light of what she was there for.
Of course the media crews might know who she was, she thought. A couple of high-profile cases would do that.
She looked round, scanning the area for Phil. Didn’t see him. There was an air of quiet urgency about the place. The white tent was up and blue-suited CSIs were going about their work with a calm, concentrated commitment. Uniforms were there too. She spotted Adrian Wren, waved at him, moved over to ask where Phil was. Before she could do so, another figure detached himself from a conversation with two uniforms and turned to her.
‘Marina. Good to see you.’ Brian Glass was smiling, holding out his arms as if welcoming her to his party. He looked round, then back to her. ‘I’m afraid Phil’s busy at the moment. Was it him you were looking for?’
When Glass had first arrived at Southway, Marina had done her best to like him. But he hadn’t made it easy. He was the kind of copper she hated working with. The kind that was all business. There was a strand of officer, she had reasoned, and unfortunately it was a dominant one in the force, that had a little more of their personality surgically removed with each higher rank they made. And Glass was no exception. There was no spark, no inner life to the man that she could detect. She had told Phil that Glass reminded her of a supporting CTU character in an episode of
Still, he had made encouraging noises about her work and the job of the psychologist in the police force in general. At least to her face. In times of budget cuts, plenty of higher-ups thought a psychologist was not a necessity but a luxury. That anything she offered could be outsourced, bought in when needed at a fraction of the cost. Irrespective of the results she achieved, the standard of the work she did. So she was polite to him, but wary. It seemed like a healthy way to proceed.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I was looking for Phil.’
‘Can I pass on a message?’
He was making her feel like she was being troublesome, the interfering wife bringing her husband’s forgotten packed lunch to work for him. Not, she thought, because he was belittling her on purpose, but just because he was innately sexist that way.
‘I’ll wait,’ she said. ‘He wants me to look at the crime scene with him. See if I can help him with leads.’
‘Good, good. Fine. All offers of help gratefully received.’ He brought his brows together in a thoughtful manner. ‘What’s happening with the boy? The one from the cellar?’
‘Anni’s with him now. He came round. I talked to him but didn’t get much. He kept asking for his mother.’
‘His mother?’
She nodded. ‘As far as I could tell. But wherever he’s been, he’s been there a while. He can barely speak. Hardly communicate. There’s a lot of damage there. A hell of a lot. It’s going to be a while before we can get anything coherent from him.’
He nodded. ‘Right. Good. Good work, Marina.’
She said nothing.
‘Keep at it.’ A smile. Marina imagined he thought it was the kind Churchill must have given to rally the troops.
‘I will,’ she said. He made to walk away. She stopped him. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m glad I caught you. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.’
He looked at her quizzically. Waited.
‘Rose Martin.’
His attitude changed, his voice guarded. ‘What about her?’
‘You’ve returned her to work. I don’t think she’s ready.’
He straightened up. Expression closed. ‘In your opinion.’
‘In my professional opinion as her psychologist, yes. She’s still exhibiting signs of stress, of trauma. She’s not emotionally ready to handle the demands of her job. At least not back on the front line.’
‘Well, thank you for your comments, Marina,’ he said, nodding. ‘You know I value your input greatly. I’m sure you’ll put them all in your report. I’ll read them then.’
Marina felt her face redden, her hands shake. She controlled her anger, kept talking. ‘With all due respect, Brian, you’ve put her back on front-line duty and I hear you’ve promoted her too.’
He held his hands up as if in surrender. ‘That wasn’t my doing, I’m afraid. The ball was in motion before I got
