Cage of Bones

of the team in the process.

But everything had been neatly brushed over. Spun out simplistically to give the media its heroes and villains. Phil the hero. Rose Martin the brave but tragic heroine. The Creeper the villain. DCI Ben Fenwick the unfortunate casualty.

Marina was professional enough not to take her partner’s word for things, to judge for herself. But she had been there. She knew the whole messy truth. And she had agreed with him about Rose Martin.

But she put all that to one side, remained impartial. Did her job.

Rose looked good, Marina had to admit. Tall, her dark hair curled and styled, she wore a blue two-piece suit, jacket and pencil skirt, spike heels and a cream silk blouse. Power-dressed, thought Marina. A strong physical presence in the room. Ready for a fight. But also rested, recuperated and rehabilitated. Ready to return to work.

On Marina’s recommendation.

Marina looked down at the file before her once more. Moved a heavy strand of hair that had fallen across her face back over her ear. She was slightly smaller than Rose Martin and dressed completely differently, but she didn’t allow the other woman’s strong presence to intimidate her. Marina, with her long, dark, wavy hair and Italian features, favoured lace and velvet, full peasant skirts and diaphanous blouses, cowboy boots and scarves. She knew she was often portrayed as a caricature, exactly what some on the force expected a psychologist to be like, but she didn’t care. Even played up to it sometimes, enjoyed it. Just because she worked for the police didn’t mean she had to think and dress like them. And besides, her record spoke for itself.

‘Right,’ she said, nodding, ‘been off too long. And what have you been doing with your time? Besides watching Dick Van Dyke?’

‘Worked out.’ Rose Martin kept eye contact. ‘Kept fit. Active. Anything to stave off the boredom. I’m itching to get back.’

‘Itching.’ Marina nodded once more.

‘Look,’ said Rose, irritation creeping into her voice, the shield of her features slipping. ‘I got over… what happened fairly quickly. Dealt with it. Months ago. I’ve been ready to return to work for ages.’

‘You realise that when – or if – you do return, it may not be back on the front line?’

Rose bristled at the suggestion. ‘There’s no reason why not.’

‘I’m just advising you. Be aware of the possibilities.’

‘But I’m ready to go back. I can feel it. Look, before all this, I’d taken the inspector’s exam and passed. I was waiting for promotion. If they knew what was good for them, I’d be back straight away as a DI. I should be. I’ve spoken to DCI Glass and he agrees with me.’

Interesting, thought Marina. DCI Glass was Ben Fenwick’s replacement. She wondered in how many ways.

She nodded once more, said nothing. Rose Martin’s attitude was typical of a lot of officers she saw. They felt they could handle themselves. Reached a point where they found their convalescence too constricting, where they knew they were ready for the challenge of the job, raring to go once more. And if any problems came up, if they had flashbacks, they could always rely on their old inner strength to pull them through.

Even in the comparatively short time that Marina had been doing the job, she had seen too many of them try that, only to crash and burn. Their inner strength had deserted them at the first opportunity. They had crumpled, folded. Been back at square one.

She leaned forward in her armchair. ‘Look, Rose. I don’t want to seem negative, but it’s easy to think you can just walk back into work like nothing’s happened and pick up where you left off.’

Rose leaned forward too. ‘I know myself. I know how I feel. I know when I’m damaged and when I’m good. And I’m good now.’

‘It’s not that simple.’

‘Never is, is it?’ Rose gave a harsh laugh. Nodded. ‘This is about Phil Brennan, isn’t it? I know what he thinks of me. And if anyone’s blocking me coming back, it’ll be him.’

Marina sighed. Didn’t bother to hide it. ‘I’m a psychologist, Rose. Bound by the oaths of the medical profession. Do you really want me to add “paranoid delusions” to your file?’

Rose Martin sat back, stared at Marina.

Marina leaned forward once more. ‘Look, Rose. Over the last five months, you’ve refused to talk to me. Ignored all attempts to let me help you.’

‘Because I didn’t need help. I’ve coped on my own.’

‘So you say. You wouldn’t even attend the anger-management course I recommended.’

Rose Martin’s eyes flashed at the words. ‘I didn’t need your help,’ she repeated.

Marina sighed. ‘I just wanted to say, I know how you feel.’

Rose snorted once more. ‘Is this the bit where you try to be my friend? Tell me you’re the only person who understands me?’

Marina looked at the notes in her lap, deciding. She looked up again. ‘No, it’s not, Rose.’ Steel in her voice hiding a battened-down anger at the other woman’s manner. ‘This is the bit where I put professionalism aside for a while and deviate from the script. Forget that I’m a psychologist and you’re a police officer. Where we talk as one human being to another.’

Rose said nothing.

‘I do know what you’re going through, Rose. Because the same thing happened to me. It was before your time here, but the circumstances were very similar. If you don’t believe me, check it out.’

Marina paused, tried not to let the memories overwhelm her. She continued.

‘And I did what you did. I thought I could cope. Just get on with things again, live my life like nothing had happened. I tried. And I couldn’t.’ She bit back the emotion in her voice.

The shield slipped. Rose frowned, interested. ‘What happened?’

Marina shrugged. ‘I coped. Eventually. Took a while. Longer than I thought it would. Longer than I felt it should have done. It wasn’t easy. But I got there. In time.’

The two women sat in silence together. Then Rose’s phone rang.

She answered it, even though Marina had started to speak, to tell her it should have been switched off. Marina watched the other woman’s face. It changed from initial hostility to polite interest. A smile then split her features as she listened. She took a notebook and pen from her bag, wrote something down. Hung up. Turned to Marina.

‘That was DCI Glass. He has a case he needs me to work on.’

Marina nodded, noting her words. Needs. ‘Right. When would this be?’

‘Straight away. Shortage of staff. He thinks I’m ready.’

‘Does he?’

Another smile from Rose Martin. Triumphant. Adrenalised.

Marina shrugged. ‘You’d better go, then.’

‘Don’t you have to write a report on me?’

‘Doesn’t seem a lot of point now, does there?’

Rose left the room.

Marina shook her head, clearing Rose Martin out of it. She checked when her next appointment was, looked at her watch. Thought about what she’d be having for lunch. Wondered what her daughter Josephina was getting up to with her grandparents. Then her phone rang.

She answered. DC Anni Hepburn.

‘You busy?’ Then, before she could answer, ‘You want a distraction?’

Marina leaned forward. ‘What’s up?’

Anni’s voice became hesitant. ‘I’m at the hospital. The General. And I could do with a bit of help… ’

6

Paul had left him in the cave. Stuck in as far as he could push him. Tried to push everything in after him.