Cage of Bones

own warehouse with two containers of illegally trafficked young women. Also on the site was a prison made out of containers.

‘Ongoing inquiries?’ said Anni.

Mickey nodded. ‘The Elders, as they called themselves, left very detailed notes. Who their clients were, what kind of things they enjoyed, how much they paid, where and when… all of that. And their customers weren’t short of a bob or two, either.’

‘Which means they’ll be fighting all the way.’

‘Absolutely. We crack one of the biggest cases in ages, lawyers have a field day. Going to tie the courts up for years. And then there’s the Gardener. Whole country’s being torn apart looking for the remains of his victims. He’s going to be bigger than the Wests, Shipman, all of them put together.’ He looked at her. ‘So yeah, plenty of work for you to do. Hurry back.’

‘Yeah, great.’ Anni’s smile dropped. ‘Look, I… heard about your girlfriend. I’m sorry.’

‘She wasn’t my girlfriend.’ Said very quickly.

‘Right.’

‘She wasn’t. She was… she used me for information. I was in the way and I… ’ He shrugged. Couldn’t look at her. ‘That was it, really.’

‘She killed herself when she couldn’t take it any more.’ Anni’s voice quiet, light. Not wanting to disturb the surface tension of the room.

‘Seems that way.’ He sighed. ‘Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I rode her too hard in the interview room, made her face up to what she’d done. Maybe I could have… ’ He sighed again. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You couldn’t have done any more, Mickey,’ said Anni. ‘Like you said, she faced up to what she’d done. What she’d been a part of. And couldn’t live with herself. It wasn’t your fault. So don’t blame yourself.’

He nodded, tried to appear convinced by her words.

They lapsed into silence.

‘Jenny Swan didn’t make it,’ said Anni. ‘She tried, she was a fighter, but… ’

‘I heard,’ said Mickey. ‘Clemens, one of the SOCA guys, nearly lost his partner. But he’s pulled through.’

‘Well that’s something.’

‘They were all right, those two. In the end. Recommended Phil and me for promotion.’

Anni tried to sit up, fired by his words. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Phil to DCI, me to DI.’

‘Wow.’

‘But Phil doesn’t want it. So that means… ’

‘You’ll be staying where you are.’

He looked right at her. Eye to eye. ‘I’m staying where I am.’

Silence once more.

The wind blew dead leaves against the window. They could feel a faint draught coming through, the world outside penetrating the room inside.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Mickey, after deliberation.

‘Me too,’ said Anni. ‘Haven’t been able to do much else in here.’ She pointed to the TV. ‘Except watch Clash of the Titans on pay-per-view. Again.’

‘When you’re up and about, d’you want to… ’ He felt himself reddening. ‘D’you fancy going out one night?’ He suddenly found the window beside her hugely interesting.

Anni smiled. To herself. ‘You asking me out on a date?’

Mickey didn’t trust himself to answer immediately. He feared his tongue would trip his words.

‘Yeah,’ he said eventually. ‘Yeah, a date.’ He looked at her this time. Saw her smile. For him.

‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I’d really like that. I’d love that.’

He tried to hold her hand, but it was strapped up. Settled for touching her arm.

‘Ow.’

Sorry.’

They both laughed. Kept looking at each other.

Outside, it was a miserable day.

But inside, the room was warm.

133

Donna had never had a good time with religion. Standing outside the church of St James and St Paul on East Hill, she thought of turning, walking away. Not going in.

But she bit down on her fear. Pulled the last bit of life from her cigarette, crushed it under her boot. Went into the church.

Inside, it was as she had expected. Dark. Polished wood. Stone. Tall stained-glass windows, high carved ceiling. All of it dwarfing the people inside. Making small lives seem smaller.

Don and Eileen were sitting about halfway back. Her first impulse was to go to them, join them in their pew. But she resisted. They might not want her with them. Might not welcome her. So she sat near the back. Easier to escape when it was all over.

Donna hated funerals. She had been to Faith’s just a couple of days before. It hadn’t been anything like this. Much simpler. A nearby church, the crematorium, then drinks at the Shakespeare. She had sent Ben to school. He didn’t need to be there, she had reasoned. His mother wouldn’t be.

She had witnessed the vicar glance at his watch while he talked about Faith, seen her cheap wooden coffin go through the curtains, then watched while people she barely knew used her death as an excuse to get hammered. Later she had picked Ben up from school, taken him out in town for a meal. Watching him eat, laugh and tell her about his day at school, she became determined to honour Faith’s memory in a better way. And do something for herself – and Ben – while she was at it.

She looked round the church. A lot of coppers there. Some she recognised. Not always happily. Part of her wished she hadn’t come. But part of her knew she had had no choice.

The service went on. Phil was asked to speak.

She had liked him. A decent copper, a decent man. All too rare. She watched as he stood at the lectern, fumbled to take his papers from his pocket since his arm was strapped up, looked round the church.

‘Rose Martin,’ he said, and glanced down at his notes, ‘was one of my officers for a time. And in that time I came to know her well. She was… ’ He paused, glanced down at a very attractive dark-haired woman who had been sitting next to him. She nodded. He looked up, kept going. ‘She was all the things a good police officer should have been. Conscientious. Hard-working. Loyal.’ He swallowed hard. ‘And that she should die in this way is… particularly upsetting. Now, we didn’t always see eye to eye, Rose and me. But we were on the same side. And she knew it. When she needed an ally, when she needed help, she came to me.’ He sighed. ‘And I wish I could have saved her. I wish… ’ He stopped talking, trailed off. Looked at the stained glass. ‘I wish she was still here. I wish I wasn’t standing here saying this. In the end, I was proud to know her.’

There was more, talking of Rose’s achievements, her accomplishments. But Donna tuned out. That was just cop talk. Nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with the woman she had known briefly, who had died in her house.

Died in her house. A lot had changed in the few weeks since that had happened, thought Donna. A lot. She wanted to move on. Not sell her body any more, not take her anger out on the world. She had responsibilities now, she had Ben to look after. She had to look after herself, for his sake if nothing else. After what she had been through recently, she owed it to him. And Faith. And herself.

So she had gone to St Quinlan’s Trust, asked for help, enrolled in some classes. And she had felt good about herself. The first positive thing she had done in ages. She had a long way to go, but she had made a start.

Someone else was up now, another copper, talking about Rose. Donna tuned out again. She had come, paid her respects, that was enough. She could just slip out the back door, no one would notice.

And that was when she noticed Don turning round, looking at her. He smiled. Caught, she smiled back.