Carol rolled her eyes. ‘Nigel Barnes, I am arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Sam, cuff Mr Barnes.’
Barnes suddenly stepped back from the door, catching Sam off-balance. Only a desperate grab at the door jamb saved him from sprawling on the floor. ‘There’s no need for that,’ Barnes said, his voice tight. ‘I’ll get my coat.’
‘Sam, go with him. You are under arrest, Mr Barnes,’ Carol called after him.
It took twenty minutes to get him back to the station and another hour for his solicitor to show up. Carol was so tired she wanted to lay her head on the desk and cry, but at least Sam would be leading the interview. He thought she was doing him a favour because of the work he’d done on the case; the truth was she didn’t think she had the energy to question Barnes properly. The one pleasant surprise while they’d been hanging around was finding Tim Parker’s third attempt at a profile on her desk. As she read it, her smile grew. So that’s what Tony had decided to do with him. She supposed training him to be better was a preferable option to ripping his arm off and hitting him with the wet end, which was what she’d felt like earlier. Trust Tony to find a way through the mess.
And now she had to pray Sam could do the same.
The waiter offered coffee; both women ordered espressos. Elinor caught Paula’s eyes and burst out laughing. ‘Docs and cops - the only people who can drink espresso after dinner and know it’s not going to keep them awake.’
Paula smiled, a lazy smile that spread across her face like jam on a toddler. ‘I don’t usually have something this entertaining to stay awake for, though.’
‘Me neither.’ Elinor drained the last of her red wine and sighed with pleasure. Tonight she appeared to have cast off the weariness of work. Somehow she’d found the time to put her hair up in some complicated pleat and change into an aquamarine silk shirt that made her eyes look like jewels. She was radiant, apparently illuminated from within. Paula thought her skin actually glowed. She felt amazingly lucky. ‘Thank you for making time for this,’ Elinor said.
‘Like you said, we both have to eat. And there’s nothing else I can do tonight except go over my witness statements again till I’m cross-eyed. I’m just glad you were free.’
‘Even Mr Denby has to set the slaves free sometimes.’ The coffee arrived, hot and strong, and they appreciated it in a moment of quiet.
Paula couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a relaxed evening. It was what she’d longed for, but she couldn’t quite let go of the old cop’s maxim: hope for the best, expect the worst. But this time, she seemed to have beaten the house. The conversation had flowed easily between them. They liked the same music, their reading overlapped enough for them to share opinions, they had similar taste in films. They both loved red wine and red meat. Elinor even confessed that she enjoyed the occasional cigarette. ‘One or two a week,’ she said. ‘Last thing at night, with a whisky.’
‘If I could smoke like that, I’d be happy,’ Paula admitted. ‘With me, it’s all or nothing. I want to quit again, but I know I have to work up to it.’
‘You stopped before?’
‘Yeah. I was doing really well until . . . Oh, it’s a long story.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Elinor said. ‘That must have been difficult. It’s strange how often the death of people we love brings out the self-destructive behaviour in all of us.’ And she’d left it at that, which Paula had been grateful for and impressed by.
Now, as they finished their coffee and split the bill, there was an unmistakable frisson between them. Paula wanted to touch Elinor’s skin, to feel the electricity flow from fingertip to fingertip. Not that she wanted to rush into anything. She had too many reservations. About herself, not about Elinor.
They stepped out of the restaurant into a vicious swirl of wind. ‘God, it’s Baltic,’ Elinor exclaimed. ‘When did that happen? It was really mild when we went in.’
‘Time flies when you’re having fun. It’s actually Wednesday now.’
Elinor laughed and tucked her arm through Paula’s. ‘You know what I’d really like?’
Paula’s chest constricted. She felt delight, desire and dread combine inside. ‘I’m far too well brought up to guess,’ she said.
Elinor squeezed her arm. ‘I like that you’re not presumptuous. And I’d like for us to get to know each other a great deal better.’
‘Yes,’ Paula said cautiously, wondering where this was going.
‘And I don’t want this evening to end just yet. I know it’s late, but do you want to come back to mine? For a coffee? More conversation?’
They paused for a moment under the canopy of a shop. ‘I’d like that,’ Paula said. ‘I’d really, really like that. But please don’t take this the wrong way. When you say coffee, it would have to be just that. I have to be in the office first thing, showered and alert and in fresh clothes.’
Elinor chuckled. ‘In that case, we’d better go to yours, don’t you think?’ Before Paula could reply, Elinor had pulled her into an embrace. It was an electric moment for Paula. Her body tingled and her ears rang. She heard a soft moan and realised it had come from deep inside her. She wanted the kiss to go on for ever.
When they finally parted, they were both breathing heavily. ‘Oh my,’ Elinor said.
‘Shall we go?’ Paula said, her voice a squawk. She cleared her throat, patting her pockets. ‘We can get a cab.’ She stopped short. ‘Hang on a minute.’ She opened her bag and raked through the contents. ‘I don’t believe it. I’ve left my bloody keys in the office. I was in such a rush not to be late for meeting you . . . I can picture it. They’re sitting on my desk, in front of my computer.’
Elinor shrugged. ‘No problem. It’s no distance to your office. We can walk over and pick them up then get a cab from there.’
‘You don’t mind?’
